"'Yes, capitan, you are right!' Then, coming to me, she took my hand, and said, 'If you promise me not to be angry, I will tell you something.'
"I gave the promise.
"'Well, then, I have taken a liberty. Manuela, the sister of the boy you found upon the desert, has come to attend upon you, now that you are in trouble and need loving care and assistance.'
"'But I never saw her in my life!' I said.
"'You have seen her brother, and been his friend; and for his sake she is devoted to you.'
"'But why did not Manuel come?' I asked.
"'Their father died recently; and he was detained at home.'
"Hardly knowing what I did, I said, 'Call Manuela in, then!'
"The girl came in, and stood, with cheeks suffused and downcast eyes, quietly by my bedside. She was taller than Manuel, and of lighter complexion, but had the same glorious eyes of liquid black, the same dark hair with the tinge of purple when the sunlight rested on it, the same bright, expressive countenance, and quick, graceful movement of the little taper hands when speaking. She was very fair to look upon,—as the young palm-tree by the desert spring; and there was goodness, as well as beauty, in her face.
"From that day I began to mend. Manuela stayed with my nurse, and was ever at my bedside, or ready to come at my call. Neatness and taste were in all she did, and at her touch all things grew beautiful. She practiced reading English
