Several started to unharness the horse. Others held out their hands. After
a moment's hesitation Nan accepted their aid and descended. Keith's
performance was evidently considered a great joke.

On the low veranda were two women, one most enormously fat, the other young
and lithe. They were dressed almost exactly alike, their blue--black hair
parted smoothly over their foreheads but built up to a high structure
behind, filmy _rebosas_ over high combs, and skirts with many flowered
flounces. They both had soft, gentle eyes, and they were both so heavily
powdered that their complexions were almost blue. All the men explained to
them at once. The younger answered gayly; the older listened with entire
placidity. But when the account was finished, she reached out to pat Nan's
hand, and to smile reassuringly.

Various foods and a flask of red wine were brought. There was no
constraint, for Keith threw himself with delighted abandon into experiments
with sign language.

"_Esta simpatica_," the Californians told each other over and again.

Their manners were elaborate, dignified, deliberate, and beautiful. Keith,
ordinarily rather direct and brusque, to Nan's great amusement became
exactly like them. They outvied each other. The women touched smilingly the
stuff of Nan's gown, and directly admired her various feminine trappings.
She, thus encouraged, begged permission to examine more closely the lace of
the _rebosas_ or the beautiful embroidery on the shawls. A little feeling
of intimacy drew them all together, although they understood no word of
each other's language.