“Paiutes.” Anne wiggled her toes.

“Humph!” was the only comment Mary Helen could think of to make.

“It’s ten o’clock,” said Sister Therese, who preferred her name pronounced “trays,” rushing by. Loose tiles clinked under her busy feet. “You know how the kitchen staff likes us to get our coffee and get out so they can get on with lunch.”

Sister Therese did not wait for a response. In addition to being slightly high-strung, Therese was slightly deaf.

Anne spoke out of the corner of her mouth, just in case. Apparently, she had learned from experience that it was difficult to predict when Sister Therese’s hearing would suddenly improve. “I know what young Leonel likes,” she said. “He wants us to finish coffee so he can have some time alone with his girl friend before starting lunch.”

“Who’s Leonel?” Mary Helen asked.

“Our assistant cook. Sweet young man. I’ll introduce you.”

“Does this girl friend go to school here?” The idea of a cook-wooing coed appealed to her.

“She works here. Villanueva’s secretary.”

“Marina? I just met her a few minutes ago. She’s a lovely child.”

“Right. Leonel and she came from the same village, or at least the same province, in Portugal. Villanueva helped them both to emigrate. Marina has been with us a couple of years. Leonel, almost a year now.”

Sister Anne swung the kitchen door open and held it for Mary Helen. “We’ve had a lot of Portuguese here,” she said. “Those two. Marina’s sister, Joanna. She’s a graduate student. The college gave her a full scholarship. But most of them work around the place. And they are very good workers, too. You’ll meet Tony. He’s the gardener. Probably the best we’ve ever had. Have you noticed the grounds?”

Mary Helen hated to admit she hadn’t, so she just cleared her throat. Anne didn’t seem to notice.