accompanied the strains of the Christmas hymn with its familiar old refrain.
“This night is the good night,
And therefore is no night of rest.”
Soon they came to the hospital where the children had frequently been with their mother. The portress who opened the door for them seemed to know their errand without being told and held out her hands for their gifts. The children could see many baskets of fruit and flowers in the corridor behind her. She recognized them at once and told Señor Vasquez that she had just sent a messenger for him. A sick soldier had been asking for him and would like to see him at once.
Antonio and his sister were told to wait for their father in the courtyard, and he immediately followed a sweet-faced nun down the long corridor to the wards.
Left alone, the children amused themselves by watching the doorway, for the portress was kept busy admitting visitors. Some had come to visit their sick friends, but many people came to leave fruit and gifts as the children had done.
“What shall we buy for Mariquita?” said Antonio suddenly.
Anitia shook her head doubtfully. “I am afraid there is nothing she cares for very much except to have Don Francisco back again,” she said. “What do you suppose has become of him?”
“I don’t wonder Mariquita is sad,” answered her brother. “It is so long since she has had any word from him.”