Diego and Juana had a grand wedding. Both favorites of the Father, and
Diego, in particular, whom he regarded rather as friend than servant,
the priest made it a holiday, and the mission church was crowded to the
doors, in the morning, at the marriage ceremony. In the afternoon the
Indians and the Mexicans celebrated the day with a bull-fight, horse
racing, and various games and diversions, Mexican and aboriginal. The
day was one long remembered by all the inhabitants of the mission.

The newly wedded couple took up their abode in the tiny adobe house
Diego had built, and began a life of great happiness, little disturbed
by affairs outside their own domain. Life in California, in those days,
was a dolce far niente kind of existence that was most captivating,
although ruffled at times by troubles with the many Indians on all
sides. The days sped by, each one making but the slightest notch in the
span of life. Juana continued her teaching, riding to the mission every
day, where she spent the morning. During the rest of the day, after
returning home, she busied herself about the house in all domestic
duties, or in embroidering, at which she was an adept, her work being
much in request, not only at San Gabriel, but at the other missions; or
in tending her garden, where were growing many vegetables and fruits for
their use. The birth of their child brought an added joy to their
already overflowing life of happiness. But this kind of life could not
last forever, even in that idyllic land of Nueva California.

Diego was given the services of two neophytes in cultivating his land,
leaving him at liberty to continue those of his mission duties which
could not be delegated to another. And toward the end of the second year
of Diego's married life, his presence at the mission became more urgent,
and he was sent off to the neighboring missions with greater frequency,
and made longer stays than ever before. Juana began to be anxious, and