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"She knelt before the altar"
"Good evening to thee, Pancha."
"Good evening, Chaunita."
"Where hast thou been?"
"To the shrine of Guadalupe."
"Thou wilt need to go there often."
"Yes, we all have need to pray."
"Pepe is near death to-day; he lies there like a log and knows no one. If Our Lady cannot save him, nobody can."
Pancha listened in stony silence, and crossing over to her own door, she closed it behind her. Once inside, however, all her passionate nature gave way. Tossing her reboso on the floor, she looked up at a picture of the Virgin hanging on the wall. "Cruel, cruel Mother!" she cried, stamping her feet and shaking her fist at the sacred picture. "Thou canst save my Pepe, and thou wilt not. Have I not prayed to thee, weeping and fasting for two days? Have I not vowed to give thee a silver heart if thou wilt save him ? Did I not burn candles at thine altar, and give my last cent to the poor ? But thou wilt not
