"You are not frightened?" said Florentina gently.
"Frightened—no Señora; you are very kind—and the Señor too."
"Are you not glad to be here? what are you afraid of?"
Golfin took her hand. "Speak frankly and truly," he said: "Which of us do you like best—Florentina or me?"
Nela made no reply, and the others smiled; but the child remained moodily grave.
"Now, listen to me, you silly little thing," the surgeon went on: "You have to make up your mind to live with one of us. Florentina will stay here; I shall go away. Decide for one or the other—which do you like best."
Marianela looked from one to the other without finding any definite answer; finally her eyes rested on those of Golfin.
"I believe I am the man of her choice.—But that is not fair to Florentina, Nela; she will be vexed."
The poor child smiled and, putting out a feeble hand to Florentina, she murmured: