"Painting and sketching. I'll never be a worth-while artist, but I
like to paint things for myself. I've been trying to depict on canvas
the San Gregorio in her new spring gown, as you phrase it. The arrival
of the Sepulvida family interrupted me, and I've been sitting here
since they departed. We had tea."

"Getting a trifle bored with the country, Kay? I fancy you find it
lonely out here."

"It was a trifle quiet while you were in hospital. Now that you're
back I suppose we can ride occasionally and visit some of the places of
local interest."

"By all means. As soon as I get rid of that little bunch of cattle I'm
going to give a barbecue and festival to the countryside in honor of my
guests. We'll eat a half dozen fat two-year-old steers and about a
thousand loaves of bread and a couple of barrels of claret and a huge
mess of chilli sauce. When I announce in the El Toro _Sentinel_ that
I'm going to give a _fiesta_ and that everybody is welcome, all my
friends and their friends and relatives will come and I'll be spared
the trouble of visiting them individually. Don Nicolás Sandoval
remarked when he collected that Loustalot judgment for me that he
supposed I'd do the decent thing, now that I could afford it. Mother
Sepulvida suggested it and Anita seconded the motion. It will probably
be the last event of its kind on such a scale ever given in California,
and when it is finished it will have marked my transition from an
indolent _ranchero_ to some sort of commercial go-getter."

"I see. Little Mike, the Hustler."