Papasito was so tender with us then; and now we are _all_ alone." "Not all alone," responded Madame.

"Jesus and the Blessed Virgin are with you." "O, I don't know where _they_ are!" exclaimed Flora, in tones of wild agony.

"I want my Papasito! I want to die and go to my Papasito." Rosabella folded her in her arms, and they mingled their tears together, as she whispered: "Let us try to be tranquil, Sistita.

We must not be troublesome to our kind friend.

I did wrong to say we were all alone.