ould throw me into the river.
But I knew if I just kept still and knew--really _knew_--that God
would take care of me, why, He would. And, you see, He did, for He
brought me to you." A tired sigh escaped her lips as she laid her head
on the woman's shoulder.

"But--oh, _Santa Maria_!" moaned the woman, "you are not safe here!
What can I do?--what can I do?"

"Well, Anita dear, you can know that God is here, can't you? I knew
that all the way down the river. And, oh, I am so glad to see you!
Why, just think, it is eight years since you used to play with me! And
now we will go back to Simiti, will we not, Anita?"

"Pray to the Virgin to help us, child! You may have influence with
her--I have none, for my soul is lost!"

"Why, Anita dear, that is not true! You and I are both God's children,
and He is right here with us. All we have to do is to know it--just
really _know_ it."

"But, tell me, quick--Diego may be here any moment--why did he send
Ricardo for you?"

The girl became very serious. "Anita dear, Padre Diego says I am his
child."

"What!"

"Yes--his daughter--that he is my father. But--is it really so,
Anita?"

"_Madre de Dios!_" cried the woman. "What a beast!--what a beast! He
saw you in Simiti when he was last there--and you are now a
beautiful--No, child, you are not his daughter! The wretch lies--he is
a sink of lies! He is rotten with sin! Oh, _Dios_!"

"Why, no, Anita dear, he is not a beast--we must love him, for he is
God's child, too," said Carmen, patting the woman's wet cheek with her
soft hand.

"He!--God's child!" She broke into a shrill of laughter. "_Carita_, he
is Satan himself! You do not know him!"

"I don't mean that what you think you see is God's child, Anita dear;
but that what you think you see stands for God's child, and isn't
real. And if we know that, why, we will see the real child of God--the
real man--and not what you call a beast."

Ana apparently did not hear. Her thought was with the future. Carmen
looked about the room. "Oh, Anita," she exclaimed, "what a beautiful
place, and what beautiful things you have!" She rubbed the tile floor
with her bare foot. "Why, Anita dear, it is just like the palaces
Padre Jose has told me about!" She walked around the room, touching
the various toilet articles on the dresser, passing her hands
carefully over the upholstered chairs, and uttering exclamations of
wonder and delight. "Anita--Anita dear! Why, it is a palace! Oh! oh!
o