Now Pilar's eyes were full of terror. "But, oh, doctor," she cried. "I cannot do that. We have no money."
"No money?" The doctor looked at her pityingly.
"We live by what Grandfather makes when he can work," said Pilar. "Now that he cannot work, there will be no money."
The doctor said, "Um-m" and stroked his beard. Then he asked, "Have you nothing which you might sell?"
"Only—" And Pilar gazed into her tiny cubbyhole of a room next door. "Only an old wooden chest filled with souvenirs, left to me by my mother." She added in a whisper, "I could not sell them!"
The doctor was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I am afraid you must sell them, Pilar, if you wish your grandfather to live."
When the doctor was gone, Pilar went into her room and looked at the precious wooden chest. In it were the souvenirs which her mother had collected throughout her interesting life as a dancer.
The doctor had given her grandfather medicine, and now he slept. But what would happen in the morning?
Pilar shuddered. She was only a little girl, and she was afraid. The doctor had said that her grandfather must have the best of everything, or maybe he would die.
A tear splashed down upon the old, carved chest. There was only one thing to do. Tomorrow she would go into town and sell one of her mother's souvenirs so that she might buy medicine and food.