You remember when Juanito's father, who passed as my nephew, died, how deeply I felt it, I thought I should have died also.

Such a fine, handsome man, and with such a brilliant future before him! I would have made him a magistrate, president of the supreme court, minister, anything I wished! And in twenty-four hours he was dead as though Heaven wished to punish me.

It is true I have my grandson remaining, but this Juanito in no way resembles his father, and I confess it to you, I do not care much for him.

I can only see in him the most distant reflection of my poor son.

Of my past, of that time which was the happiest of my life, all I have left me is Visitacion.