Pilar hummed to herself as she walked along. Some day she would grow up to be a great dancer like her mother and—
What was that? A light in her house? She looked through the window and saw the doctor bending over her grandfather's bed.
Pilar caught her breath. Then she rushed indoors and ran straight to her grandfather's bedside. Sinking down on her knees, she burst into tears.
"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "You are ill! Dear Grandfather, what is the matter?"
The doctor smoothed her soft, black hair and raised her to her feet.
WHEN PILAR WAS LITTLE
"There, now, my child," he said. "You must not cry. You will only make your grandfather worse. He will get well if you will do what I tell you."
"What—what is that, doctor?" Poor Pilar was trembling.
"You must buy and cook good, nourishing food for him," said the doctor. "And give him the medicines which I order."