with the Indians. He had quarters adjoining those of the Father, on the
main corridor of the cuadro.

His family consisted of his wife, Juana, chief of the lavanderas, or
washwomen, and several children, the oldest of whom, Magdalena, was now
growing into the fresh and early womanhood of these Southern races.
Already she had lovers, who took such opportunities as the strict
discipline of the Mission life allowed (and they were rare) to endeavor
to awake a response in her heart. But she held herself aloof from all.
Proud of the Spanish blood in her veins, though that blood was but that
of a common soldier, she counted herself to be of the gente de razon,
far above the level of the mere Indians, her mother's people. And,
indeed, in her finer features, quick glance, and more spirited bearing,
the difference of strain was manifest: the Latin admixture, though only
fractional, justified itself in evident supremacy over the aborigine.

This proud element in Magdalena's nature had the unfortunate effect of
bringing her into conflict with the Father and the Church. Not that she
would, out of mere perverseness, have refused obedience, but the Father,
himself a Spaniard, viewed all who were not of the sangre pura as
Indians, all alike. This the girl felt and resented, and her resentment,
though unexpressed, showed in numberless ways; while the Father, on his
part, viewed her only as an obstinate Indian child, naturally averse to
good influences.

It chanced one day that Agust'n, overlooking the making of adobe bricks
at the clay pits a mile from the Mission, needed to send a message to
the Father on some point concerning the work; and, Magdalena having been
sent to carry their midday meal to the brick-makers, he entrusted her
with the errand. Failing to find the Father in his private room, she