She was a little creature, not yet three years old, with sunny golden hair, and so spontaneous in her baby talk that her grandmother quite adored her.
"What have you got for me, grandma? What have you got for me?" she asked, looking eagerly at Doña Paula, after having nearly knocked her over in the impetuous way she caught her by the legs.
"The doll, my child, with its new frock."
"No doll—the doll for Lalina—I'se big—I want chocolate."
"I have no chocolate here, my darling," replied the grandmother, looking lovingly at the child.
"Mama has chocolates—come and give me one."
And the little girl dragged her grandmother by the dress to her mother's room. On entering it the child seemed surprised, and looked about everywhere, while Ventura came forward and embraced her mother affectionately.
"My goodness! what a surprise! whatever brought you here? I don't know that it is good for you to come upstairs like this. Do you feel all right?"
"I am not very tired. I think I am better. Dehand's pills seem to do me good."
"That's right. I am glad we have at last hit upon a medicine that does some good. Won't you sit down?"