tender attentions could not have been exceeded by those endeared to me by ties of blood.
Pomposita, though so young, as a matron took precedence, constituting herself my special nurse, in full accord with the Gospel injunction to love her neighbor as herself. In the fevered, silent watches of the night, how gently her soft little, brown hand would pass across my brow as she murmured her sweet words of endearment, and how lovingly her arms encircled me as she held me to her warm and noble heart. She constantly reminded me of her first visit and her assurance that she would be my sister.
In every way they all sought to win me from my grief. Indeed, it seemed that the ministering angels themselves had deputed their high mission to my devoted, faithful, and gratefully remembered Mexican friends.
In this land of sunshine and brightness there fell upon my heart the darkest shadow of my life, the shadow of the tomb of my sister, who slept the dreamless sleep in her far-off, lonely grave.
