"The Mexican girl does not like me.She is devotedly attached to the baby and fears I will supplant her.""That is true，"admitted Beth，who had conceived thesame idea；"but you mustn't mind her，Mildred.The poor thing's only half civilized and doesn't understand our ways very well.What do you think of little Jane？""I never knew a sweeter，healthier or more contentedbaby.She smiles and sleeps perpetually and seems thoroughly wholesome.Were she to remain in her present robust condition there would be little need of my services，I assure you.But—""But what？"asked Beth anxiously，as the nurse hesitated."All babies have their ills，and little Jane cannot escape them.The rainy season is approaching and dampness is trying to infants.There will be months of moisture，and then—I shallbe needed.""Have you been in California before ？"asked Beth，impressed by Mildred's positive assertion.
The girl hesitated a moment，looking down.
"I was born here，"she said in low，tense tones."Indeed！Why，I thought all the white people in Californiacame from the east.I had no idea there could be such a thing as a white native."Mildred smiled with her lips.Her imperturbablea eyes never smiled.
"I am only nineteen，in spite of my years of training andhard work，"she said，a touch of bitterness in her voice."My father came here nearly thirty years ago.""To Southern California？""Yes.""Did you live near here，then？"Mildred looked around her.
"I have been in this house often，as a girl，"she saidslowly."Se？or Cristoval was—an acquaintance of my father."Beth stared at her，greatly interested.
"How strange！"she exclaimed."You cannot be far from your own family，then，"she added.
Mildred shivered a little，twisting her fingers nervously together.She was indeed sensitive，despite that calm，repellentb look in her eyes.
"I hope，"she said，evading Beth's remark，"to be ofreal use to this dear baby，whom I already love.The Mexicangirl，Inez，is well enough as a caretaker，but her judgment could not be trusted in emergencies.These Mexicans lose their heads easily and in crises are liable to do more harm than good.Mrs.Weldon's arrangement is an admirable one and I confess it relieves me of much drudgery and con？nement.I shall keep a watchful supervision over my charge and be prepared to meet any emergency."Beth was not wholly satis？ed with this interview.Mildred had told her just enough to render her curious，but had withheld any information as to how a California girl happened to be in New York working as a trained nurse.She remembered the girl's fervent exclamation："Thank heaven！"when askedif she would go to Southern California，to a ranch called ElCajon，to take care of a new baby.Beth judged from this that Mildred was eager to get back home again；yet she had evaded any reference to her family or former friends，and since her arrival had expressed no wish to visit them.
There was something strange and unaccountable about the affair，and for this reason Beth refrained from mentioning to her cousins that Mildred Travers was a Californian by birth and was familiar with the scenes around El Cajon ranch and even with the old house itself.Perhaps some day the girl would tell her more，when she would be able to relate the whole story to Patsy and Louise.
Of course the new arrivals were eager to inspect the orange and olive groves，so on the day following that of their arrivalthe entire party prepared to join Arthur Weldon in a tramp over the three hundred acre ranch.
A little way back of the grounds devoted to the residence and gardens began the orange groves，the dark green foliage just now hung thick with fruit，some green，some pale yellow and others of that deep orange hue which denotes full maturity."They consider five acres of oranges a pretty fair ranch，out here，"said the young proprietor；"but I have a hundred and ten acres of bearing trees.It will take a good many freight carsto carry my oranges to the eastern markets.""And what a job to pick them all！"exclaimed Patsy.
"We don't pick them，"said Arthur."I sell the crop on the trees and the purchaser sends a crew of men who gather the fruit in quick order.They are taken to big warehouses and sorted into sizes，wrapped and packed and loaded onto cars.That is a separate branch of the business with which we growers have nothing to do."Between the orange and the olive groves，and facing alittle lane，they came upon a group of adobe huts—a little village in itself.Many children were playing about the yards，while several stalwarta Mexicans lounged in the shade quietly smoking their eternal cigarettes.Women appeared in the doorways，shading their eyes with their hands as they curiously examined the approaching strangers.
Only one man，a small，wiry fellow with plump browncheeks and hair and beard of snowy whiteness，detached himself from the group and advanced to meet his master.Removing his wide sombreroa he made a sweeping bow，a gesture so comical that Patsy nearly laughed aloud.
"This is Miguel Zaloa，the ranchero，who has chargeof all my men，"said Arthur.Then，addressing the man，he asked："Any news，Miguel？""Ever'thing all right，Meest Weld，"replied the ranchero，his bright eyes earnestly ？xed upon his employer's face."Some pardon，se？or；but—Mees Jane is well？""Quite well，thank you，Miguel.""Mees Jane，"said the man，shyly twirling his hat in his hands as he cast an upward glance at the young ladies，"ees cherub young lade；much love an'beaut'ful.Ees not ？""She's a dear，"replied Patsy，with ready sympathy for the sentiment and greatly pleased to ？nd the man so ardent an admirer of the baby.
"Ever'bod'love Mees Jane，"continued old Miguel，simply.
