“Do you know, Lolita,” pursued Ana, “when a little baby is put into the cradle for the first, very first time, if the Sunbeam plays upon it, the little sprites always look after that baby, and never forget it, but when it is grown up into a big man or woman they still continue their care. There was once such a little baby, Lolita, born in a poor little cottage; such a poor little cottage, Lolita, that there were no shutters to the windows of any kind, when it was ever so hot the sun all came in, and made the air suffocating, unless the poor mother could pin up an old dress; but it was not often she had one besides the one she had on. So it happened that when this little baby was born, Lolita, the sunbeams were streaming in, with the little sprites all basking in them, and the sprites kissed this little baby, and said, ‘Dear little girl, we will never leave you; only be good, and so long as you are good we will see that you shall want for nothing at all.’
“A very little while after, Lolita, that little baby’s father died, and you might have said the sprites had forgotten her; but it was not so. They kept their word exactly. She did not know her father had died. Her mother was there, and took care of her, and she was too little to know that other children had more pleasure, so she wanted nothing.
“She did not even know, Lolita, the labour her poor mother had to work for them both, and even when she sang her to sleep with her sad, ceaseless song,—
“En los brazos te tengo,
Y considero,
¡Qué será de ti, niño,
Si yo me muero[2]!”
she knew nothing of its meaning; her little face was pressed close and warm against her mother’s breast, and a flower or a fruit, which the sprites had painted for her, was enough to complete her happiness.
“Before Pura—such was her name—was two years old, her mother died too. But the sprites had not forgotten her, Lolita: her mother had a sister, and when this sister came to the funeral, they had painted Pura’s cheeks with such fresh, clear tints, and lit up her baby face with such a bright, sweet smile, that her aunt would not part from her, but took her home and brought her up as her own child, and was to her as a mother.