h!"

The woman looked up with a wan smile. "_Chiquita_, they are nothing.
They are all cheap trinkets--nothing compared with what there is in
the big world beyond us. You poor dear, you have lived all your life
in miserable little Simiti, and you haven't the slightest idea of what
there is in the world!"

"But, Anita dear, Simiti is beautiful," the girl protested.

"Beautiful!" The woman laughed aloud. "My dear, simple little girl!
You have seen only this poor room, and you think it wonderful. I have
been to Barranquilla and Cartagena with Padre Diego, and have seen
houses a thousand times more beautiful than this. And yet, even those
are nothing to what there is in the world outside."

Carmen went to the bed and passed her hand over the white counterpane.
"Anita--why, is this--is this your--"

"Yes, _chiquita_, it is my bed. You have never seen a real bed, poor
little thing."

"But--" the child's eyes were wide with wonder--"it is so soft--you
sink way into it--oh, so soft--like the heron's feathers! I didn't
sleep at all in the canoe--and I am so tired."

"You blessed lamb!" cried the woman, springing up and clasping the
girl in her arms. "But--what can I do? When he returns, he may come
right up here! _Santa Maria_, help me!--what shall I do?"

"Anita--let me sleep in your bed--it is so soft--but--" looking down
dubiously at her muddy feet.

"Never mind them, child." The woman's face had set in grim determination.
She went to the dresser and took out a small stiletto, which she
quickly concealed in the bosom of her dress. "Get right in, just as you
are! I will take care of Diego, if he comes! _Santa Maria_, I will--"

"Anita dear," murmured the girl, sinking down between the white
sheets, "you and I will just _know_ that God is everywhere, and
that He will take care of us, and of Padre Diego too." With a sigh
of contentment the child closed her eyes. "Anita dear," she
whispered softly, "wasn't He good to bring me right to you? And
to-morrow we will go back to Simiti--and to padre Rosendo--and Padre
Jose--and--and Cantar-las-horas--you haven't seen him for such a long
time--such a long--long--Anita dear, I--love--you--"

The child dropped asleep, just as a heavy step fell outside the door.
Ana sprang up and extinguished the lamp, then went quickly out into
the rotunda. Padre Diego was standing on the top step, puffing and
weaving unsteadily. The woman hurried to him and passed an arm about
his waist.