“Oh, you’ll get on to it in no time.” As she had lived more than half of her sixteen years in Mexico, Spanish was perfectly natural to her. It seemed so simple that sometimes she found it easier to express herself in Spanish than in English.

“Though I’ve studied it two years, I have my doubts about ever being able to speak it fluently,” said Jo Ann slowly. Noticing Florence’s flushed face she added, “Where’ve you been? What time is it?”

“Almost ten o’clock. I’ve just been to market.”

“To market? Why didn’t you call us?”

“Well, I knew you girls would be tired and sleepy after your trip, so I didn’t disturb you. I go to market early every morning. I like to do the buying myself.”

“Promise you’ll call me next time. I didn’t come down here to lie in bed and sleep all the time. There’s too much to do and see.”

“All right, then; I’ll call you tomorrow. But come on, let’s have breakfast. I’m ravenous after my walk, and I know you two must be starving.”

“If having breakfast served in bed is your idea of our helping you to keep house, then I’m all for it,” declared Peggy gaily as she flopped her pink-pajamed legs over the side of the bed. “It suits my taste exactly.”

Florence nodded smilingly toward Juana. “It wasn’t my idea. It was hers. She’d be terribly hurt if we didn’t let her wait on us. After you two get rested from your trip, though, I’ll set you to work planning meals and cooking—and everything.”

“Well, I’m going to enjoy being waited on as long as I can,” laughed Peggy.

Sitting on the side of the bed, clad in their gay pajamas and eating their breakfast from an exquisitely inlaid tea table, Peggy and Jo Ann felt very sophisticated indeed.

“This is the most delicious orange juice and the best toast I’ve ever tasted,” declared Jo Ann, a moment later.

“It’s the best breakfast I’ve ever eaten in my whole life,” added Peggy with her usual exaggeration.

Florence turned to the servant, who had just returned with a plate of hot toast, and repeated their remarks in Spanish.

From that moment Juana was their devoted slave, anticipating their every wish.

As soon as they had finished breakfast, Jo Ann and Peggy dressed for the street, Florence insisting, much to their disapproval, that they wear hats. “The sun is too hot here in the middle of the day to go out without something on your head,” she explained.

While Peggy was arranging her hair in neat auburn waves, Jo Ann, who had finished her hasty toilet, stepped to the door leading into the hall and stood taking in every visible detail of the strangely constructed building. The immense rooms, each opening onto the long central hall, seemed dark and gloomy, owing to the thick walls, the concrete floor, the heavy doors, and the iron-barred windows. Though the bright-colored rugs, the gay-flowered chintz, and a few well-chosen pictures added a cheerful homelike note, the general effect was one of austere simplicity.

Having noticed Jo Ann’s interest, Florence came up beside her and, slipping her arm around her waist, asked, “How do you like our house? It’s very old, you know.”

“I love old houses,” Jo Ann replied quickly. “This one is extremely interesting—so different from anything I’ve ever seen.” She hesitated, then added, “I’ve been thinking of studying architecture when I go to college.”

“Would you care to see the rest of the house? There are some rather unusual features about it.”

Jo Ann’s dark brown eyes sparkled. “I’d adore it!”

“I, too,” put in Peggy, who had come out in time to hear Florence’s words.

Florence pointed to the open door on the right. “This is the sitting room, but Mother and I stay in the office with Dad more than in here. Come on and I’ll show you the office.” She led the two girls across the hall, but stopped a moment later, saying, “The office door’s closed—Dad probably has a patient—but I can show you the other rooms. The kitchen is the most interesting room in the house, I think.”

She took them into the dining room and on to the end of the long hall, then turned into an immense room having three large windows all heavily barred.

“My goodness, you could ’most put our whole house into this one room!” exclaimed Peggy. “I’ve never seen such a huge kitchen before in a private residence. Why do you suppose they built it so large?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure. It’s the strangest house I’ve ever seen. Just look at that fireplace, for instance.” Florence motioned toward one side of the room, which was entirely taken up by a huge fireplace set back in a broad arched recess. “It’s large enough to belong to some big hotel—and yet we’ve only two bedrooms in the house.”

“But why did they build the fireplace in three sections? All the fireplaces I’ve ever seen were built on a level with the floor. This one reminds me of the ‘Three Bears.’ This section belongs to the great big bear; and this one——”

Florence broke into a peal of laughter at Peggy’s whimsical idea. “No one but you would have thought of that,” she said.

Juana glanced up from her preparations for lunch, smiling to herself. She had not seen her Florencita happy for months—not since her mother had been taken ill and had been sent to a sanitarium for a several weeks’ stay.

As their laughter died away, Florence went on to explain, “You see, the lowest section—in the middle—was where they built their fire to cook the food; this section here, of medium height, was where they made their tortillas. It’s just the right height for the metate, the stone on which corn is rubbed or ground into a paste. There’s room here for several women to work at the same time.”

“But what was the great big bear’s section used for?” interrupted Peggy.

“The highest one was used for draining the dishes and earthen cooking utensils. Each section is covered with smooth hard stones, and here in the corner is a small hole left to let the water drain off. It was a very well-equipped kitchen in its day.”

Florence was delighted to find that her guests were so interested in the old house which had been her home for many years. She went on to explain that although modern equipment had been installed wherever possible, they had tried to leave the quaint old atmosphere undisturbed.

While she was answering Peggy’s questions about the new equipment, Jo Ann was busily taking in the details of the architecture, especially noting the absence of woodwork in the queer windows that had iron bars and no glass.

As her gaze wandered to the window at the end of the room, she caught a glimpse of something which sent a little thrill of excitement over her. She crossed the room quickly and stared through the iron bars at what seemed to be the ruins of an ancient building. Could this be the ruins of one of those old cathedrals which she had read about and had wanted to see for so long?

“What’s this old building back of your house, Florence?” she asked eagerly.

Peggy rushed over to the window to see the building that had caused the note of excitement in Jo Ann’s voice, while Florence merely smiled and replied, “That’s a part of a very old church, now used only by the poorest peons.”

Jo Ann’s eyes opened in surprise. “I don’t see how they can use it—it looks as if it were falling down.”