This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Jamie Chambers. Paula the Wild Dinsien by Eva Lacompt, translated by W. M. Strong. Book 1, Chapter 7, Catalina's Illness. Teresa had not been mistaken. Catalina became so critically ill during the following week that my father lost all hope of her recovery. Not being able to be with her during the day, he washed in her bedside during the greater part of the night. And if it had not been for Teresa, who compelled him to go and take some rest, he would have, undoubtedly, suffered a collapse himself. How long those days appeared to be in spite of the happy companionship that I had found with my dear cousin Paula. My father hardly noticed us, absorbed as he was with the fear that filled his heart. And Teresa was occupied with so many tasks that she had no time for us either. Rosa had to leave school in order to help nurse the sick one, and Paula also was required to stay home until the afternoon session. As for me, I was packed off to school in the morning, carrying my lunch in a little basket, fearing each night as I came back to the house that I would receive bad news as to Catalina. My, what grand resolutions for the future I made during those sad days, to try to love my poor sick sister and to treat her better than I had done, should she recover. One afternoon I was surprised to find my father at home. It was only about five o'clock and he generally did not return from work until eight. He seemed so sad and depressed that I dared not embrace him as was our custom. Teresa crossed the dining room and gave me her usual warning. Don't make any noise, Lucita.  Teresa said my father in a low voice. Do you think Catalina would be able to see the children? Why do you ask that, sir? She said. I would like them to see her that she may embrace them for the last time. You know what the doctor said. Oh, those doctors said Teresa in a scornful tone. The doctors don't know what they're talking about. Don't lose hope, sir. I know that Catalina may not live to be very old. But if God wills her to live, she will do so in spite of the doctors. Yes, but you know how weak she is. She never will be able to survive so many complications. And yet, how can I bear such affliction? She reminds me so much of her mother, the same voice, the same blue eyes, and even her identical way of smiling. And now to follow this child to the cemetery and return to the house where she will never be anymore. Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do? Why don't you consult the great physician, sir? What do you mean by the great physician? I mean the Lord Jesus. Deliver Catalina into his hands. When he walked this earth, all the sick ones were brought to him and he healed them all. But he's no longer on the earth. No, but his power is the same today as it was then. Theresa, do you pray nowadays? Yes, sir, I do. When did you begin to pray? From the time that Paula entered the house, sir. I suspected that. Now, please don't go and rebuke her, sir. If you only knew how she loves you and how she prays for you and Catalina, oh, sir, how many times she has made me blush for shame. How so, my good Theresa? That's a fact, sir.  You have suffered much in your life. You work hard. You don't do any harm to anybody. Surely you will go to heaven. But when I saw Paula and the reality of her religion and how she loved God, oh, then, sir, I comprehended for the first time in my life that I was a sinner worthy of hell. I prayed to God that he would pardon me. And did he do it? The savior assures us, sir, that he that cometh to him, he will in no wise cast out. So I dared to believe that he has pardoned me. Theresa was pale with emotion. It was the first time that she had confessed the Lord before me, and it caused her a good deal to do so to my father. He was apparently too depressed to be angry. After a moment of silence he said, Where is Paula? I sent her to the drugstore, sir, to get certain medicines that the doctor ordered. When she returned, sent her to Catalina's room. I shall remain there until, until my poor father could not conclude the sentence. Then, turning to me, when Paula returns, I wish you to come into Catalina's room also, Lucita. Yes, father, I answered him in a low voice. A quarter of an hour later Paula returned. Never shall I forget the anguish and terror that I experienced when Theresa, warning us to be quiet, led the way to the bedside of my dying sister. Catalina did not appear to notice our entrance.  But my father made signs to us to draw a little nearer, and putting his hand over the forehead of my poor sister, he called to her gently in a voice that betrayed great anguish. Catalina, Lucita and Paula have come to visit you. Would you not like to embrace them? Lucita? Paula? I heard Catalina murmur in a far away voice. Ah, yes, I remember. Help me up, father. My father lifted the poor, thin body of his daughter. In spite of all I could do, I could not keep from crying, thinking that it would be the last time that I would embrace my big sister, whom I had loved so little. She looked at us for a long while, and then said calmly, have you two come to say goodbye to me? No, no, said my father. We hope that... No, father, I'm dying. I know that well. It is useless to keep it from me. Think of it, only eighteen years old, and yet I've been of no use to anybody, and nobody's going to miss me very much. Catalina, exclaimed my father, do not speak so.  Are you really crying, Lucita? And Catalina turned her feverish eyes toward me. How strange. I have not been a very good sister to you, and I always thought you didn't care for me. Oh, Catalina, I exclaimed, kneeling beside the bed. Please don't die. I do love you so.  I will be always good to you, indeed, even when you're bad-humored. Please don't die. And then I sobbed with such violence that my father, fearing that such conduct would cut even shorter that parting life upon the bed, asked Teresa to take me away. But Catalina said, Let her alone, father. It really does me good to see her cry. I never dreamed that Lucita had any heart at all. But I see now that it has been all my fault. If I had only been a bit better tempered with her, she would have shown me a little more affection. Rosa, give me a little water, please. And Rosa placed a teaspoonful of water between the lips of our poor sister. Are you quite bad, my daughter? Asked my father. For some minutes Catalina could not reply. But finally she said, Lucita, don't cry any more, please. Now listen. I tried to calm myself. We need to ask each other's pardon, my poor little sister, she said.  Oh yes, indeed I do forgive you, I answered, from the bottom of my heart. It is I who have been wicked, whereas you have been so very very sick, while I enjoyed such good help. Yes, that's true, said Catalina. But I am older, and I should have shown you a better example. I had always thought of myself and now it's too late to change. Come, dear Lucita, come and kiss me once more.  But I didn't dare refuse to show the last sign of affection for Catalina. So I laid my hot cheek against that of my sister, trying to bid her goodbye, and her tears mingled with mine. When Paula's turn came, Catalina was so exhausted that she could hardly say a word. But finally she said, you will take my place at Father's side Paula. Father, I'm dying. Paula will take my place, and I know she will be a better daughter that I could have ever been. Her strength was going rapidly, and we could hardly hear her words. And now my father softly put her back on the pillows and motioned us to retire. Exhausted by remorse and grief, I threw myself on my bed and continued crying until at last I fell into a heavy sleep. During the week that followed, Catalina hovered between life and death, and good old Dr. Leban came and went two or three times a day. Theresa never went to bed, but took short cat naps in her chair at times, as best she could, and my father made very rare and short visits to his office, bringing a good part of his work home with him. Rosa never placed Theresa either in the kitchen or at the bedside of the invalid, as the case might be. And I continued at school where, thanks to the fears that filled my heart, I was a model of good conduct. Paula had quickly learned to make herself useful. She liked experience in a house like ours, but her willingness and cheerfulness more than made up for the glumsiness of her hands as she would say to Theresa. Let me do that, dear Theresa. You were so tired, and you have so much work now. Theresa, a custom as she was to perform everything herself, hesitated a little at first, but Paula would look at her in such a deceiving way that she generally yielded to her. From the time that Catalina fell ill, Rosa had to make all the purchases in town, and this was not a small thing, for the distance from the old convent to the city was considerable. At times Paula was allowed to go with her. Why don't you let me go along to the city? Paula said to her, if you did not have to go out, you could help Theresa so much more in caring for Catalina. That's true, but you couldn't go along to the city, you'd get lost. No, no, never fear such a thing. Let me go, and I'll have none a bit of trouble going my way back. And Rosa, like Theresa, had last yielded to her pleading. How is Catalina now? was my first question on returning from school. Always the same, Paula would say. Do you think Paula should ever get well? That I don't know of, Lecita, but I believe she will. Theresa praised for her, and so do I. God is able to heal all the sick people. Don't you, Lecita? And then, as she thought of the dear sick one, that the Lord had not healed, whose body was lying in the far away Waldesian valley, she added, I know the Lord did not heal my father, but then, you know, he was prepared to go. What do you mean prepared? I said a bit puzzled. Oh, I mean to say that my father had given his heart to the Lord Jesus, and so he was ready to go to heaven. I suppose it is very difficult to prepare oneself for heaven, I said guardedly. Oh, no, said Paula. If we ask the Lord Jesus to give us a new heart, he always does so. What do you think? I said, has Catalina received a new heart? I don't know, and Paula hesitated, but I don't think so.  I don't think she would get well. Before she became so ill, I didn't care for her a bit, and I believe she didn't care for me either. But after having said goodbye to her that afternoon, I certainly do love her. Poor Catalina. In the middle of the school session, many times it comes to me, suppose that Catalina should die today, then I do not seem to be able to pay any more attention to the lessons. It seems as if Catalina was there, dead in her bed, and I hardly dared to come home. If I had not been so wicked to her before she became so ill, I know I would not feel so. Now listen, Lucida, this is what you ought to do. You ought to ask the Lord Jesus to heal Catalina. He'd never do it for me, I said. And why not, asked Paula, because I'm sure God doesn't hear the prayers of wicked people. And Paula did not answer me. I saw that she was thinking about what I had just said. Suddenly, a ray of happiness illumined the dear face with its dark eyes as she exclaimed, Yes, he does hear wicked people. How do you know that? I said. Because when Jesus cried his tongue on the cross, one of the robbers asked him to remember him when he came home. Well then, I murmured, perhaps the Lord might hear me also. Paula turned about and faced me. But my dear Lucida, you're not wicked. Most certainly I am, said I. No, no, you're not that bad. And if you wish to be my sister, you will love the Lord Jesus and you love him now with all your heart. Do you not, Lucida? I love you dearly, Lucida. I. I. Good? I stared at my cousin. At any rate, I knew that that very night for the first time in my life, I was going to pray to the good Lord before I slept. Tracea had come in to say good night and put out the light. I had the courage to get up and kneel beside the bed as Paula did. But I joined my hands in prayer and prayed in the pillow. I murmured, Oh my God, I have never asked anything of you. I wouldn't have dared to have said I'd worked to you tonight if Paula had not said that you heard the prayers even of wicked, penitent ones like me. My God, I ask you to heal my sister Catalina and I ask it with all my heart. I haven't been very good to her and I'm very sorry. I know her well, and if she gets well, I promise you now to do all my lessons faithfully for a whole week. And so I thank you ahead of time. Amen. Two days later, Catalina was out of danger. It was my father who told me the good news on my return from school. Oh, how happy, how happy I am, Father. I cried as I danced for joy. No more than I am, my daughter. He answered gravely. End of chapter 7. Part 1, chapter 8 of Paul of the Waldensian. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Paul of the Waldensian by Eva Lacompt. Translated by W. M. Strong. Part 1, chapter 8. The Five Frank piece. Catalina recovered slowly and seemed to constantly desire Paula's company. In the afternoon on returning from school, I would find her by the bedside, always happy, always smiling, with the complete forgetfulness of self that had always been such a wonder to me. A new gentleness seemed to come over my father as the days passed, and I noticed that he always seemed to observe Paula with a sort of puzzled air. Paula, too, seemed to change. That little alpine flower, accustomed to the pure mountain air of her beloved country, naturally could not be transplanted from her native soil without some damage, but that sensitive conscience of hers always seemed to be in struggle between obedience to her God and her duty towards my father. That girl is nothing more or less than stubborn. I heard my father say one day to Teresa, which remarked our old servant answered with a grimace behind his back. One day Teresa, with an air of triumph, showed us a new testament on her return from town. Paula took it from her hand for a moment and then returned it to her old servant after caressing the shiny cover of her goodness. Take it, said Teresa. It's not only mine, but yours, and you will have more time to read it than I will. No, Teresa, dear, and Paula sighed as she put her hands behind her back. I know I'll get my Bible someday. That's what I've asked God for and I know he answers prayer. A little later Paula said to me, I certainly would have loved that new testament for there are two or three favorite passages with which I would like to refresh my memory, but I simply can't deceive my uncle. What am I to do, Lucita? I must never forget what I promised Papa when he died. Never forget, never forget, was Paula's constant preoccupation. But in spite of these problems which seemed to confront her, her perfect faith in God came to her aid and seemed to give her wisdom to take the right road through it all.  It was not in vain that she prayed. Her God, whom she had not ceased to serve in the midst of the worldly atmosphere that surrounded her, seemed to comfort her and strengthen her. Away off here in Valar the little orphan was not forgotten. One day to her great excitement Paula received a letter directed personally to her from someone from her own beautiful land. What beautiful writing! exclaimed Rosa. Who could it be from? I think it must be from my Godmother, responded Paula, trembling with emotion. Oh, do give me the letter, Rosa. Rosa always felt fun, pretended to keep the letter to the dismay of our small cousin who didn't always see through our jokes but finally yielded to her in treaties. Wouldn't you like to read it to us, Rosa? asked Paula, tearing open the envelope. I find it much harder to read writing than writing. Rosa was only too glad to learn the secrets contained in such an unusual communication and so this is what we heard as she read. My dear Goddaughter, I cannot tell you how dismayed I was on my return from Geneva to learn of the death of thy father. I know he was ready for heaven but it is for thee that my heart was torn with anguish. Canst thou imagine the pain that filled it when I found on my return to Valar that both of you had gone from me? to your uncle's house in Normandy and that thou worked well care for it? But oh how I would have wished to have kept thee with me but thou knowest that for me that would have been impossible having to care for my old father and mother as well as pay off their debts. I know, however, with the help of God some day I shall be free. Then we shall return to buy the little farm where my father made us such a happy home and at that time I trust that thou wilt come back and live with me but then I suppose and wilt not be content to come back to such a simple life with an obscure country woman although I don't really believe that. Oh no, no, no. Suddenly interrupted Paula Godmother knows very well that I shall never forget the happy life in Valar Then you will go back there inquired Rosa Of course, why not and Paula looked quite surprised What's that you say you would leave all of us who love you so? Oh no indeed you will leave me responded Paula who generally had a way of solving every difficulty Rosa smiled and returned to her reading I have just been to see the grave of thy dear father where I planted some hearty white roses which will stand the winter winds I went also to the neighboring village of Androi where thou used to visit the poor and immediately I was surrounded by thy friends Papa Pierre Vignay especially sensed his love they all spoke of thee and called down blessings on the head especially that thou mightst be a witness for the Lord in thy new home Mama Vignay recalled the time when thou visits her when she was so sick and how happy thou madeest her when thou didst sing those beautiful hymns to her I believe my dear one that if thou should write her a few lines it would be like letting in a little heaven on her simple life as she would thus see that the daughter of their best friend is thinking still of those whom she used to make happy by her heavenly presence all those that have known thee and rememberances many persons have asked that thou should pray for them they love thee so and miss thy presence my dear dear God daughter continue Paula always to be obedient love everybody and above all else love the God of thy father love not the world nor the things that are in the world be thou a valiant soldier faithful unto death and Christ shall give thee a crown of life for he will never forget thee and neither do we in this far off valley and now may God bless thee and keep thee safe in his hands thy loving God mother evangelina who prays for thee Paula overcome by emotion buried her face on Rosa's shoulder wait a minute said Rosa don't cry here is something more Paula dried her eyes and listened intently as Rosa continued P.S. I am sending thee five francs by money order which you can redeem at your post office buy something with it by which to remember me five francs repeated Paula with astonishment now instead of tears on her face are you sure of course see here is the money order Paula who never in her life had owned a single scent could hardly believe that she was the possessor of so much riches her God mother's letter was of course a tremendous event for all of us Rosa had to read it over and over many times and it seemed as if Paula wished to learn it by heart even my father read it with great attention and appeared quite pleased Teresa declared that the God mother was surely a tray called me full but she did not explain to us why one thing however displeased Teresa the eagerness with which Paula immediately planned to spend all her money how now she exclaimed is it burning a hole in your pocket I should think a little girl like you would refer to keep the money keep it said Paula why should I keep it but the next day when Teresa announced that she was going to the city she invited us both to come along what are you going to buy she asked Paula oh so many things you shall see and the things which we saw were certainly a great surprise to us first we went to the bookshop where a number of souvenir cards were purchased to send back to Valar from there on passing a window filled with fruit Paula exclaimed that she certainly does love grapes I must get her some grapes said Teresa look at the price you silly child never mind I'm rich this afternoon well you won't be rich long if you make many purchases like that but Paula would not be satisfied until a great bunch of the luscious fruit was safely stowed away in Teresa's bag destined for Catalina having arrived in front of a station or shop two pencils went into the bag and aren't you going to get anything for yourself said Teresa with a quizzical grin oh you shall see laughed Paula besides you know Teresa I've got everything I need and a good deal more but now a present for my father was the next object for discussion men don't need presents said Teresa impatiently but Paula did not agree with her I know she cried at last and she said that his coffee cup was too small let's get him a big one so off to the china shop we went where a huge blue cup decorated with flowers of extraordinary size depleted Paula's treasure by a whole frank I began to ask myself whether I was going to have any part in Paula's generosity but I'm passing a certain bizarre where a myriad of things were sold I saw Paula make signs that Teresa seemed to understand contrary to her custom Teresa entered alone and now said Paula we must buy an apron for Teresa while she is not looking where shall we go I think it would be better to let her choose one and anyway Teresa will soon be out of the bizarre and will be looking for us oh my no this has got to be a surprise yes I know but how are we going to work it a moment later however Paula discovered a way a bit risky perhaps but the circumstances seem to justify the means Teresa suspecting that Paula's generosity would extend to her and wishing to avoid that watched us both carefully but when all purchases appeared to be completed the good woman occupied herself with buying provisions for the house which of course entailed considerable discussion as to price etc it was then that Paula had her chance now's our time she said to mean a little voice I followed her without delay Teresa meanwhile argued the price of butter and cheese with an old school friend now elevated to proprietorship of the shop and we knew that this would take at least a quarter of an hour we soon erupted the place where they sold novelties and where the clerks were about ready to close for the night oh sir cried Paula to one of the young men will you not please attend to me I am in a great hurry so you're in a hurry said the young man jovially yes you see we've run away and we've wait a minute this is quite serious who have you run away from oh it's only Teresa across the street and this must be a surprise for her will you please show me an apron so the young man without further ado hauled down a number of these articles for inspection there you are take your pick Paula gave one look oh no not that kind she said with a consternation which I shared seeing an imagination old Teresa and her long skirt adorned with one of these elegant articles of the latest fashion no you don't like these question the clerk oh no said Paula you see it's for Teresa and pray who is Teresa Paula started to explain when the anxious face of the old servant showed itself at the door of a shop across the way and not seeing us had started to look up and down the street here she comes go in behind the counter there said Paula who never lost her head I got in behind a pile of merchandise while Paula continued to explain her wants to the clerk from the dark corner of the shop the young man appeared to comprehend our situation Bertrand and he turned to one of his fellow clerks please attend to this young girl I'll be back in a minute but Bertrand hardly had time to ask us what we wanted when our first friend returned to the farm I had a look at your Teresa he said and I think that an apron of this excellent cloth will give her a thousand thrills see what beautiful stuff it is Paula gave a nervous look toward the window before answering no she's not there said the young man dividing her thoughts not finding you here she's gone on a bit but you can find her easily enough we were enchanted with the goods which he displayed here said Paula starting to go out we have given you so much trouble but when we wish to buy anything more we shall always come here will we not Lesita? in the meantime many thanks and she extended her hand to him with surprise and self-possession the pleasure is all mine said the young man and I could see that he'd never met her life before Teresa was not far away gazing into a jeweler's window she made no mention of her untoward absence and one would have believed that she had not noticed it and that relieved us very much you certainly are late said my father to Teresa on her return I thought we'd never get through said the good woman for you see Paula had to spend oh yes I understand she had to get rid of her five francs and now Paula show me what you have bought alright here you are uncle Paula had always shown a certain timidity toward my father and appeared to be slightly afraid of him slightly red in the face she took out the packages one after the other from Teresa's bag you shall see sir you shall see commented Teresa with a shake of her head what a lot of packages said Rosa I'm seeing all the bundles tied up with such care shall I help you open them said my father let us see what's in this first package behind my what's this the finest kind you certainly have got good taste I'll say that much Paula there for Catalina uncle for Catalina yes uncle dear now there is not a sign of derision in my father's voice it had changed the surprising tenderness as you said so you brought this for our Catalina I know the cost of such fruit and Teresa should not have consented and do you think sir broken Teresa so when Paula wants to buy something that she asks for my consent you will soon be able to judge that for yourself I never saw her equal and this question Rosa taking of the package of souvenir cards Paula indicated the destination of each one as she gave the name and address of many of her old neighbors and far away Valar so you don't forget your old friends observed my father oh what a beautiful box this is continued Rosa and oh look here as she displayed the thimble inside who can this be for oh that's for Lisita for me I cried jubilantly oh Paula so you remember that I have just lost my thimble two pencils announced my father undoing another small paper package one of them is for Rosa and the other is for Louie said Paula simply what on earth are we going to do with you here's another package but it appears so fragile that you'd better open it yourself no no that's for uncle let him open it my father cut the cord that held the package Paula hardly dared to raise her eyes as he took the beautiful cup with its blue and gold ornamentation and took it over to the fading light in order to examine it more carefully I don't know whether I should be angry or content he said with a dry smile said Paula appealingly well so be it he said at any rate I'm happy to have such a good generous niece who does love her uncle a bit is it not so Paula there's one more thing I cried I wanted to see the effect on Teresa of that final package which Paula handed over immediately to the old servant saying gently it's for you Teresa dear what's this how is it for me I hate you but there you are what can one do with such a girl the apron was found to be eminently satisfactory and Teresa promised to put it on first thing in the morning and I could see a few tears in her eyes as she said so and now said my father you've shown us all these things which you have bought us with your five francs where is the present for yourself Paula looked at us with a snag I declare a few small coins which were all that remained from her five franc piece my father looked at her searchingly with that new tenderness which I had seen frequently lately and then left the room without another word I believe said Rosa that she'd be happy to give us her last piece of bread if there was any occasion for it yes and her life also if that was necessary said Teresa in a shaky voice as she turned back to her duties in the kitchen and of part one chapter eight part one chapter nine of Paula the Waldensian this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Pam Moscato Paula the Waldensian by Eva Laconte translated by W.M. Strong part one chapter nine a little glimpse of heaven what a wonderful afternoon it was the sun far down in the west painted the eastern mountains with a lovely tint of orange the warm air was balmy with the perfumed flowers and the birds were singing cheerfully as they flitted about all was quiet in Catalina's bedroom where Paula and I were seated my sister was now on the road to a partial recovery having passed the danger mark another change also I noticed had come over her her impatience and irritability had gradually disappeared day by day and when she suffered more than ordinarily she never seemed to complain the expression of her face had sweetened also and even a slight but quite natural smile would often allume her thin features death had passed her by and now seemingly a new influence gradually possessed her this simple country made of the Waldenzian mountains had come smiling into her life and although Catalina had frequently abused the kindness of our cousin Paula never had lost patience with the poor invalid soon love had triumph and Catalina had begun to return the love of her little nurse even though at times she still kept her tyrannical attitude one day Catalina said to Teresa no she answered she's a daughter of the good God just as I said one day when she first arrived Teresa sighed as she added what would I give to be like her one beautiful afternoon the poor invalid lay there with her eyes on Paula as if she wished to say something how do you feel now said Paula as Catalina's fixed gaze seems to disturb her somewhat oh I'm all righteous now I was thinking of your god mother's letter she said the hymns you used to sing you've never sung any of them to us Paula I saw a mist in Paula's eyes as she answered no that's true I don't think I've sung a note since my father's death would you like to hear me sing yes indeed said Catalina without noticing Paula's emotion I was on the point of reminding them of father's formal prohibition relative to hymn singing but an imperative sign is all the same to me then said Paula I will sing to you no night there and then to our unaccustomed ears came the glorious words in the land of fateless day lies the city four square it shall never pass away and there is no night there God shall wipe away all tears there's no death no pain nor fears and they count not time by years for there is no night there Paula had that rare gift the golden voice a voice that seemed to penetrate to one's very soul Catalina was enchanted suddenly I heard the heavy steps of a man coming along the corridor but as Paula began the second stanza I heard them pause all the gates of pearl are made in the city four square all the streets with gold are laid and there is no night there and the gates shall never close to the city four square and the river flows and there is no night there Paula's voice trembled at the beginning then presently the sadness in her tones disappeared and they seemed to swell out like an echo of radiant happiness Catalina listened hardly breathing involuntarily I asked myself if Paula in heaven would be any different from the little country girl I saw seated near the window at this moment I had an instance impression that my father would be at his office a special light came over the expressive face of Paula as she continued there they need no sunshine bright in the city four square for the lamb is all the light and there is no night there and then again the wonderful refrain God shall wipe away all tears there's no death no pain nor fears and they count not time by years for there is no night there the sweet sounds died away and Paula looks smilingly at Catalina as if asking her opinion of the song when a marvelous song exclaimed the poor sick girl and Paula you have a voice like an angel I did not hear my little companions reply this time I was not mistaken there was someone there behind that door impelled by curiosity I ran to open it at first I saw no one in the darkened passage but finally I could make out my father moving off down the hall and he saw that I had discovered him he stopped and put a finger to his lips and made signs to me to keep silent but in my surprise I cried is it you father yes he answered I came home earlier than I expected was that Paula who was singing in Catalina's room I don't know I hesitated not knowing what to say there was an instant of terrible silence like a calm before the storm slowly repeated you dare to look at me and say you don't know when you have just this moment come out of your sister's room oh father please forgive me I exclaimed penitently it was indeed Paula that sang but don't punish her she didn't know that you had forbidden our singing hymns who said I was going to punish her my father questioned and I could see that his anger had cooled come here taking me by the hand to hear Paula sing again he asked why no father Catalina answered surprised then Paula said my father sing again that same song and once more we heard there's no night there who taught you to sing my father asked I think it was my father but in our valley everybody sings on the roads climbing the hills carrying for the animals in the meetings in fact everywhere Catalina looked at my father furtively and noticed that his face remained serene almost tender and so she hastened to profit by the occasion dear father she said in a low voice let her sing to us once in a while will you it's such a joy to hear her doesn't it tire you on the contrary I think it does me good and Catalina looked at her father appealingly let her sing he said but leave it to the nightingales to sing alone we are so few of them there are too many crows said my father shaking his head you are right father and your daughter Catalina is one of the number for she's only a poor sick crow but sometimes father you know the crows envy the nightingales the comparison made my father laugh heartily and he let himself be persuaded by his elder daughter that elder daughter whose voice was so like that of that dear wife of his now forever silent well crows and nightingales all three of us he bit us good night he disappeared but not without turning for a moment to Paula with the remark good night my little alpine nightingale and Paula who did not seem to comprehend a single word of this conversation answered gravely good night uncle end of part one chapter nine recording by Pam Moscato part one chapter ten of Paula the Wild Denzian this is a LibriVox recording in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Paula the Wild Denzian by Eva Lacompt translated by W. M. Strong part one chapter ten in the country once a year we were accustomed to visit our grandparents and this was generally made a real family reunion there we met with all our uncles and aunts and cousins it was also a joyful occasion for Teresa who was very fond of Justina grandmother's faithful old servant grandfather had been a very successful farmer intelligent, hardworking and economical without being stingy after many years work he had amassed considerable fortune the big farm which to Catalina and Rosa was but a dim memory but whose glories Teresa had often recounted to us had been sold quite a number of years before my grandfather had then bought a beautiful house nearby with a few acres stoning it just to remind him of his former activities the garden itself was large and imposing and well cared for under the critical eyes of both our grandparents who specialized in new and rare plants the flowers appearing in profusion in all seasons of the year even in winter in the great hot houses filled the air with their delicious perfumes our grandparents reigned over this domain and it was here that they loved to welcome us our father was there a special pride and joy as he was the oldest son our grandfather had a gruff enormous voice and possessed a pair of great square shoulders in fact he was a real country man but beneath his root exterior he had a heart of gold and no one could gain the confidence of a little child quicker than he grandmother was of a different type with her long black dress and her beautiful white hair of which she was justly proud she could easily have been mistaken for a noble woman she was a strong character and had had the advantage of considerable schooling with her firm step and resolute voice and her brilliant black eyes nevertheless we all loved her dearly for there was a simple loving heart hidden away beneath all her magnificence Justina who had been our faithful servant for forty years never tired of singing the praises of her madame if during our short stay at Las Lales we showed ourselves in duly boisterous or when we disobeyed orders Justina would say to us after we had been properly reprimanded you never, never will be like your grandmother grandfather always met us at the little railway station on our arrival he embraced everybody including our father whom he would kiss on both cheeks as if he had been a child Catalina would first be hoisted up into the great carriage and we would follow one after the other Louie took unto himself the honor of holding the reins and after everybody was well seated except my father and grandfather who marched on ahead of the horses the slow procession to the house decked out in their Sunday gowns awaited our arrival there after various comments on our growths and states of health Catalina would be conducted by her grandmother to her room to rest after the tiresome journey while Justina would carry off Teresa to the kitchen and the rest of us would hurry to the orchard with grandfather with a vigorous hand would shake down the apples and pears into our outstretched aprons those were ecstatic moments there would be nothing left for anybody else but grandfather continuing to shake down more fruit would answer with his great gruff voice first come, first served besides look over there to the right there are thousands of apples that we haven't even touched soon after this there would appear on a cloud of dust the carriages of our uncles August and Edward with their families from Hover and Paris carrying all sorts of bundles mixed up with the her numerous grandchildren clambering about her and embracing her affectionately each one fighting for the first kiss me me grandma I'm the smallest no me me grandma I'm the biggest when they had been all finally satisfied she would embrace with great tenderness all her sons inquiring of each internist to his health sometimes in the conversation there would come a cloud of sadness as some relative would be mentioned who had departed since the last family reunion then finally after having returned to the garden to play for a while under the great trees the bell of the nearby church would strike the hour of noon and justina would appear at the great arbor entrance crane come one come all the scoop is getting cold then there would be a wild race on the part of all the cousins to see who would be first at the long table placed in the cool shade under the great spreading vines that wonderful table with its wide to mass covering which only appeared on state occasions grandma's loving hospitality was shown in the minutest detail of that elaborate feast for she had remembered the favorite dishes of each of her three sons and each found himself confronted with the delight of his childhood when under the maternal eye and by gone days he was not allowed to overeat but now each was left to his own discretion to satisfy the most ample appetite and then came those delicious desserts followed by fruits and nuts which had been especially kept as the crown of the feast to accompany the final visit of the garden while the baby slept in the shade under the eye of the respective mothers the most solid moment of our visit was when we had to make a report to our grandparents as to our progress in school I remember especially one year when Rosa was the first in her class and Santiago our tall cousin had taken the first prize in the great school of Louis the great from which each year he carried new laurels from then it was of course a time of triumph but for me oh with what shame mother read it the seats of Dumas last place and I had my face in my hands come come grandma said don't cry try to do better next time my cousins were not quite so charitable as they passed my poor card from hand to hand tell us the seat to Santiago said when he thought we were well out of earshot of our elders you certainly do love to ride in the seat behind do you not and he pulled my hair with her back better let somebody else sit there here after the grandmother overheard him and she said go a little slower my fine fellow the seat to might have a more brilliant future than you think and besides when you my fine grandson are since leading in the world of letters and Rosa is director of the great normal school perhaps the seat to maybe occupying a comfortable post right here in this great house I didn't understand the full part is that had the effect of silencing my tormentor who slunk away a bashed we would play happily in the garden until supper time and even the grown folks joined us in some of our games sometimes father would gather all of us children around him and we would never tire of hearing the stories of his adventures when as young man he had gone far beyond the boundaries of France these wonderful stories seem so strange to us as we got to the end of the world and the next day we went to the house of August and Edward informed us that at one time he was the happiest and gayest of them all after supper came the problem of housing is all the boys always slept in the hay barn a good preparation said uncle August for their future training in the army the rest of his own resting places somehow here and there in the great house on the following day we'd gather at breakfast two carriages to Paris and Havre would be loaded up again and we would take the train once more generally leaving Catalina to pass an additional week in the invigorating era of last lilas this short visit in the country was the great event of the year my young life I talked about it six months beforehand and for six months afterwards the other scholars made fun of me in school and do me lost lilas because I talked so much about my grandfather's home that I was tired of hearing me repeat over and over our experiences at last lilas it must be confessed that I exaggerated and describing many things about my grandfather's place until my country cousin came to believe that my grandfather's house was a palace and that the garden was a veritable Eden you shall see you shall see I exclaimed as I ended my description the cow appeared to be the most interesting thing to Paula if of course he lives in the country I said it is so beautiful there but don't you think that we also are living in the country here in the convent Paula left hardly at this but may know for their comment at last the annual letter of invitation arrived I recognized it on account of the beautiful hand writing of my grandmother it is for next Saturday announced my father and we are all invited to stay until Monday I hope that you will take care of your grandmother and her grandmother. She means you grandmother I hope that now on she will keep a warm place in her heart for her old grandmother who loves her without having ever met her Teresa who was indeed tired out with the care of Catalina and who is very sensitive to the warm weather was no less than we were for she too. Catalina manifested no to save Daughter Mine? I'm not going, Father. What's that you say? You've been much better these last days and are well able to stand the trip. You weren't very well last year, and yet you went to Las Lailas and found it so beneficial to your health. Yes, I know, Father," answered poor Catalina, but I know also that I've always been a great source of trouble for you, and Theresa would never have a minute's peace because of me. I shall go a little later, Father, when I'm stronger if Grandmother will have me. She knows very well how I long to go to Las Lailas, but I fear that the trip would only bring on a special spell of weariness, and that would spoil the fun of everybody. Maria, who works in the garden here, can look after me for a day or two. She is very kind and thoughtful, and I know she'll care for me very well. We all stared at Catalina. It was the first time in all her history that I had ever seen her forget herself. It was a great struggle, for she had become so accustomed to think only of her own comfort. Maria's welled up in her eyes as she smilingly awaited Father's decision. But this is going to be a great disappointment to you," he said, passing his hand over the feverish forehead of the invalid. No, Father, it will give me great pleasure this time, came Catalina's brave answer. Be it therefore as you wish, he said. Pleasure? I couldn't understand what pleasure there would be for Catalina to stay behind alone with Maria, especially at the time of the great event of the year. My father looked at Catalina tenderly, as if he read her very heart, and saw there something he had never seen before. That was changed much, daughter, mine, since your last sickness. For better or worse? asked Catalina with a mischievous smile. For better, my daughter, indeed, far better. It's because I'm older than I was, perhaps, Father. No, no, it's more than that. I wonder if I could dare tell you the truth. Never fear. Tell me what's on your mind, Catalina. Well, it's this, Father, dear. God has spoken to me, and I have answered him. How has he spoken to thee? said my father, and there was no sternness in his look either. Catalina pointed furtively at Paola. And how has thou answered him? I've asked him that he might save me, and that he might make me a real Christian. There was a strange look in my poor father's face as he answered quietly. If I could believe that there was a God, I would say that he had heard thee. Catalina wrote a long letter to Grandmother, the contents of which she did not care to show us. So it was, as Catalina wished, and Maria promised to take good care of the invalid. At last the great day arrived. Paola and I, up at sunrise, scurried to the window to look at the weather, and, oh joy, it was a magnificent day without a cloud in the sky. A little later, when Teresa arrived to call us, great was her surprise to find us all ready to start. What a wonderful thing, she remarked dryly. You'd never relate to school if you did this every morning. After the first moment of enthusiasm, Paola strangely enough began to lose, little by little, the happy atmosphere which usually surrounded her. I discovered soon the cause. She was thinking of Catalina. It's quite a bit terribly lonely for her, she said. Never fear, I said, she can go another time.  Oh, Lesita, if you could but know how lonely Catalina will feel as she sees us go without her. When I took her breakfast to her yesterday and saw that she had been crying, I simply could not bear the thought of leaving her at home alone. But if Papa says it's all right it can't be so bad, besides, Paola loves her as much as you do. Paola didn't answer me. Soon the time came to start. Teresa started calling to one and another. One had lost this thing, another had misplaced something else. My father scolded and helped at the same time trying to get us off. Then Rosa wasn't ready and Louie always unprepared, couldn't find his favorite blue necktie. But last we were ready. The only thing that remained was to say goodbye to Catalina. Louie, impatient to be off, performed that ceremony quickly. Rosa, who had reserved a surprise for the invalid, put a new book into her hand as she kissed her. Teresa as she embraced in her turn left many instructions. Then, as Paola came forward, we heard a sob as she buried her face on my oldest sister's shoulder. What's the matter now? said my father. An unintelligible sound was heard, but Catalina understood and her eyes moistened with happiness. Oh father, she said. I know, she's crying on my account. She doesn't want to leave me alone here. Is that it, Paola? questioned my father. Yes, please leave me here, uncle. I shall be so happy to be at Catalina's side while you are gone. But Catalina refused the sacrifice saying, No, no, my dear little Paola, I'll not be lonely. You have too tender a heart. Now go, things will be all right here. Everything has been arranged for me, and it will make me happy to know of the good time you are all to have with our grandmother. My father didn't know what to do. The time was passing. Come, Paola, come, he said. It's time to go. Paola raised her head. If you order me to go, I'll go, for I must obey you, and I know they are waiting for us, but if you will permit me to stay. And she put emphasis on the word permit in her peculiarly irresistible manner. I have to be a whole lot happier here than in Los Lajales. Stay then, said my father, as he had it with a smile. You certainly are a little despot, for you seem to twist me to your will in everything. Paola laughed at this as happy as if she had received the most valuable of gifts as she kissed him. Oh, yes, kisses are all very well, said father, pretending to be angry. But what will the grandparents say? You will tell them, but the rest of the sentence I could not hear as she bent close to my father's ear. Where's Paola? Everybody cried as we went through the door downstairs. Look, said my father, pointing to the upper window. There was Paola, with a radiant face, waving her handkerchief and goodbye to all of us. Come, come, hurry up. Stop your fooling, cried Louis. I'm staying here. How's that? I'm just staying with Catalina.   Well, she begged me with tears to let her stay, and there she is, said father. Goodbye, uncle. Goodbye, Teresa. A happy journey to you all, cried Paola. Have a good hug and a kiss to grandmother and to grandfather. We heard her say as we turned the corner. She isn't a bit like the rest of us, said Louis. She never seems to seek her own pleasure, and yet the funny thing about it is she's always happy. I can't understand a nature like that. It's because she finds her happiness and making other people happy, said Teresa. This is also what our grandmother said when we explained Paola's absence. Part 1, Chapter 10. Part 1, Chapter 11 of Paola the Waldencian. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Paola the Waldencian by Eva Lacompte, translated by W. M. Strong. Part 1, Chapter 11. The Cat Mother It was the month of October. I was sure that my father would permit Paola to go to school with me after the summer vacation, but not so. Catalina herself wished to teach her at home. This decision caused me many tears and complainings. Teresa tried to console me. Don't worry, she said. Just wait a little. I know Catalina. She'll soon tire of teaching, and then she'll let Paola go to school with you. Teresa was right. In the beginning, Catalina was enchanted with the task. Paola was obedient, and she did the best she could. But she didn't learn very quickly. Therefore, Catalina soon tired, and Paola, with the teacher so inexperienced, became sleepy and inattentive. So it was that the teacher tired the pupil, and the pupil tired the teacher. Catalina was the first to complain. Paola doesn't care much for study, she said to her father. I'm afraid I am wasting my time trying to teach her. Well, then, said my father. Perhaps the best thing will be to send her along to school with Lesita. Catalina hesitated a moment. She wished to do something for others, but she was slow to learn how. I think it would be better to let her go, she said residedly. So it was that the following Monday, my father accompanied us both to school and duly inscribed her as a student. Paola immediately became the center of great interest on the part of my school companions. They remarked upon the beauty of her eyes and hair, the latter reaching almost to her knees. Coming out of class at noontime, all forty-five pupils surrounded her affectionately, and at the end of a week, Paola was the best known pupil in the entire school. Catalina was right, however, for Paola was not really a student, but she applied herself because, as she said, she did not wish to cause pain to Madame Oisele, the teacher. As she left the school in the afternoon, the teacher would kiss Paola with a tenderness not seen toward others. At times Paola would bring her a few flowers, which caused Madame Oisele's eyes to sparkle with such happiness that she almost seemed beautiful to us. Have you a guardian? she said to us one day. Yes, Madame Oisele. How happy I should be to have one, when you have an overabundance of flowers, don't forget me. Poor Madame Oisele veered toad, said Paola one day. I am sure she has some secret burden. Nobody likes her, I said. I remembered that I had twenty-five lines to copy, because I had talked all the afternoon. God loves her. And you, I questioned. Oh, certainly! said Paola. Notwithstanding she is so disagreeable. I do not know. We don't know her outside of school. And I don't want to know her.  And that was true. Paola was always the friend of the poor and the despised. In that great school, which was a world in miniature, there were many unfortunate little ones who suffered neglect from their drunken parents. Others were cruelly treated at home, and in the case of still others, their timidity or physical weakness exposed them to the ridicule of their comrades. In Paola, however, they all found a friend and a companion who loved them and defended them. The capacity to love and make others happy extended itself also to the animals, but not to those small boys who destroyed the bird's nests or threw stones at the horses or dogs. These she attacked without mercy. In the neighborhood of the convent where we lived, there were quite a number of this type of boy whose greatest pleasure was to torture the dogs and cats. One of these especially, the son of the Briton, was a veritable executioner. He never attended school, for his father never bothered with him, and his mother, poor woman, accustomed to misery and the blows of her drunken husband, had apparently lost all semblance of human feeling.  One cold day in December, Paola and I were walking slowly along the street, studying our lessons as we walked. Suddenly, we heard the piercing cries of a cat in distress. Paola, always touched by suffering of any kind, stopped to listen. Louder came the cries of the cat. ROW! ROW! Paola threw her grammar on a roadside bench. Poor little thing, I cried. We can't help him, for I can't see where he can possibly be. Well, I can't stop here, said Paola. Come along, we'll soon find him. We ran over to the canal, which ran along a few feet below the avenue. Suddenly, I was afraid. Perhaps Joseph, the Briton's son, is mixed up in this, I said trembling. Come along, anyway, unless you want me to go alone, Paola said quietly, so I followed her. Sure enough, it was the Briton's son surrounded by a dozen ragamuffins of his own set. They took no notice of us. He had a beautiful black cat that had a string tied to its hind legs. The boy was swinging it around his head, and at times ducking it in the canal, while his companions danced around him with delight. Now that he is good and wet, let's bury him, suggested Joseph. Alive, said his comrades. Of course alive, and the old dame his owner can—but here Paola suddenly lunged forward, seizing the wicked youngster by the wrists, with a surprising strength for one of her age. You'll do nothing of the kind, she cried. Let him go, do you hear me? Let me alone, said the young bully as he tried to bite her. Not being able to accomplish this, he gave her a ferocious kick, which caused Paola to let go with a cry of pain. She now saw that her efforts were useless. See here, she said to him, after a few seconds' thought, if you give me the cat, I'll give you four cents. Ah, you haven't got four cents! Yes, I have. I have it here in my pocket. All right, let me have the money. No, no, said Paola. If I give you my four cents first, I know you will never let me have the cat. Come, give him to me, she said beseechingly. He's never done you any harm, and you have made him suffer so much. But Joseph refused this appeal. With a diabolical grin he raised the cat again to swing it over his head. There was a meow of agony, but it was the last one. In spite of her former lack of success, Paola made one supreme effort to rescue the cat. Somehow the string got loose, the cat escaped, and was soon lost to view. Then the rage of the young Ruffian knew no bounds as he turned to Paola. Run, run! I cried, but Joseph and his companions cut off the only path of escape. Easy with terror I began to yell, Help! Help! with all my strength! But the boys drowned my cries with their own shouts. This very circumstance saved us. I saw someone coming to our help. We soon recognized with joy that it was Dr. Lieben. On seeing him the boys ran away with the exception of Joseph, who was a little too late. The doctor who knew him suspected he was the guilty one, and succeeded in getting him by the ear. Then the doctor said to me, What has happened, Lucita? And I told him the whole story. Well, he won't do it again. That's one thing certain, said the doctor. Oh, let him go! said Paola generously. Paola, said the doctor, with a severity we had never seen in him before. Go back to the house with Lucita. We had nothing to do but obey. On the way back we could tell by Joseph's cries that he was having a bad time of it. Teresa was frightened when she saw the condition of Paola's leg as the result of the terrible kick she had received. The doctor soon arrived at the house, and Paola could scarcely help crying as the doctor examined her. But he said as he left us, If I am not mistaken Joseph will never trouble you any more. This was true. Joseph avoided us for a long time. But he took revenge on us through the other boys, who would cry after Paola as she walked up the street. Cat mother, cat mother! This incident won us a friend. Shortly afterwards, returning from school, an elderly woman that lived in one of the most miserable huts among the red cottages stopped us and asked if one of us was called Paola. This is she, said I, pointing to my cousin. Then you are the one that saved my cat, she said. How can I thank you enough, mademoiselle, for that cat is my one consolation. If you would be kind enough to visit me some time, I would be so pleased to see you. Paola looked at her in surprise and said, I will ask Teresa if we may come to see you. Which permission Teresa readily gave. It's Louisa, I know her well. She has lived in that little hut for fifteen years. True, she is a bit weak in her head, but she would never hurt a fly. Speak to her of the Lord Jesus Paola, it will do her good. On the following Thursday therefore we went to visit her. As we left the house, Teresa handed us a jar of preserves, saying, Give Louisa this, poor thing, not many good things have come into her life. Louisa herself answered our knock. Ah, she said, please excuse the disorder. If I had known you were coming today, I would have straightened things a bit. Sit down here on this box, mademoiselles. I am sorry that I have no chairs to offer you. Ah, here comes Cordero. She continued, and we could hardly recognize the beautiful black cat that jumped purring into Paola's lap as the same cadaverous animal that was swinging around Joseph's head a few days before. It's my one friend, said the poor old woman, sitting down on another box. Do you believe that, said Paola, can you not call us your friends? And there's another friend who has sent you a present. Our Teresa sent this for you. She placed in the eager hands of the old woman the preserves. Is it for me? How can I thank you? For years everybody has made fun of me, for I never speak to anyone, preferring the company of animals to that of people. Paola had such a sympathetic way of getting at people's hearts that instinctively she understood how lonely Louisa had been. By the way, said Paola, this is for your cat. And she put two cents on the table. The old woman did not seem to understand. It's for him, you know, said Paola. You can buy some liver with this. Surely Cordero loves liver. The pleasure in Louisa's eyes was almost childlike as she addressed her cat, saying, You must thank this good madame Oisele. And Cordero jumped down and rubbed against Paola in a most affectionate manner. It was time to leave as the short day was ending and we had to be in the house before dark. But how can I thank you, madame Oisele? said Louisa.  Oh, Louisa! exclaimed Paola. There is one who loves you. Don't you know him? Louisa shook her head sadly. No, nobody loves me. And to tell you the truth, I don't love anyone else, either. The Lord Jesus loves you, Louisa. The Lord Jesus? Tell me about him, madame Oisele. I have heard the name. Who is he? The Lord Jesus is he who died on the cross, that you might go to heaven. He suffered much before he died. They despised him. They beat him. They spat in his face. Even his own friends deserted him, and he was so poor that he didn't have any place at night to lay his head. Yet he was God himself. He died for our sins, and he rose from the dead. He is now in heaven, and he waits to receive you there, Louisa. None of us deserved to go to heaven, but he who was so perfect suffered in our stead. He died for all of us sinners that we might be pardoned. I wish I could explain it better, much better, but Jesus loves you, Louisa. I know he loves you more than you could ever dream. Louisa's wrinkled face lighted with a smile, but she did not seem able to believe or comprehend this good news, which came to her oh so late in life. If it were only true, she murmured, as she clasped her hands together and her eyes filled with tears. But it is true, Louisa, don't you believe it? See here, he knows very well you live here alone with your cat, and that you are so sad, and that you have nobody else to care for you. He wishes to be your friend, and he will be if you will ask him. Why not ask him now, Louisa? Oh, perhaps so, some day, mademoiselle. Do it now, Louisa? No, no, not now. Oh, why not now, Louisa? Because I don't understand very well, mademoiselle. How could God love me, a poor, forlorn, useless old woman, who never loved him, nor served him? You come back again. Perhaps I'll end up by understanding better. And now, goodbye, mademoiselles. I have delayed you both too long. We shook hands with her. Oh, what a cold hand it was. The touch of it sent a shiver through me.  One could see that the poor old woman was greatly touched as she said simply, Thank you, mademoiselle, thank you. I had almost forgotten Louisa and her cat when a few days later a neighbor came in with a worried look, asking for Teresa. When she appeared, the woman blurted out the news that Louisa was dying. Louisa dying? Nonsense, I saw her on the street yesterday. Perhaps so, for she dragged herself around until the last minute. But I knew she was ill, so I took her a cup of hot soup this morning. I found her in bed with a terrible cough, and now she can scarcely breathe. She keeps calling for mademoiselle Paula. Have you sent for the doctor? No, she's afraid he'll send her to the hospital, and they'll take away her cat. Teresa shrugged her shoulders. I'll go at once, and I'll take Paula with me. Mermoring her thanks, the woman laughed. Can't I go? I asked. Oh, Teresa, please let me go too. Teresa hesitated. All right, come along, she said at last. Paula's neighbor had not exaggerated her condition. The poor woman was sitting up in her bed. Its thin covers could not protect her from the cold, and a terrible cough wracked her thin frame. When at times the cough left her, she would fall back on her pillow completely exhausted. It needed all Teresa's efforts to restore her. My poor Louisa, said Teresa tenderly. You were very good to come, said the neighbor who was staying as a nurse, and mademoiselle Paula. Here she is. Come here, Paula. And as Paula came near the bed, Louisa said with a weak voice, Now I understand the love of God, for when you kissed me and embraced me, it was that kiss that made me understand that God loves even me. I will soon be far from the living, but I shall die in the arms of the Lord Jesus. Now, don't cry, continued Louisa weakly as she saw us all weeping. My misfortunes have been my own fault. I was selfish. I wished to live alone without God and without hope. I have been abandoned. I have known what it was to be cold and hungry for many years. But the happiest time of my life has been these last three days. They began with your visit, mademoiselle Paula, that afternoon I prayed, and I believe God had pity on me. I am sure of that. Here Paula broke in. You had better not talk any more now, Louisa. Your cough will come back. You are already too tired. Perhaps so, Louisa said, but I must speak while I have the strength for it. Oh, mademoiselle Paula, I did want to thank you before I die. But Louisa, dear, said Paula in the midst of her tears, I have done nothing for you. I didn't even know you were ill. The poor sick one took Paula's soft hand between her thin ones and raised it to her lips. You have been like God's angel to me. No, no, Louisa, Louisa. Yes, and you loved me, mademoiselle, and your love revealed to me God's love. May he bless you richly. Amen, sighed Teresa. Then again came that terrible cough which seemed to tear the poor weak body in two. I can do no more, she murmured as soon as she was able to speak. Well, said Teresa, you will soon be with the Lord Jesus in heaven. A contented sigh came from the bed as we caught the words. Oh, what happiness! Is there nothing you would like us to do for you, no word to send to some friend or relative? I have no other friend but Cordero the cat. What will become of him? Teresa hated cats, and we never dared bring one into the home, but now we saw a struggle going on within her, and finally she said, Would you be happy if we took him home with us? Oh, indeed, yes, said the poor dying woman, but please don't take him yet. Leave him with me until the end. He has been my only comfort, and the nights are so long. Louisa, however, did not remain alone any longer, for Teresa and several kind neighbors took their turns night and day to care for the poor invalid. Teresa brought from home pillows and blankets, and had a good hot fire always going in the grate. Dr. Leibn was called immediately, but it was too late. He could only make her last hours more comfortable. A few days later she died in Teresa's arms. A beautiful smile on the yellow-wrinkled face gave it a happy expression that had never been seen there before. CHAPTER XII. A TREASURE RESTORED. Our birthdays generally passed without celebration, either in the form of presents or parties, principally because my father disliked holiday festivities, as they seemed to bring back to him more bitterly the loss of her who could no longer share their joy with him. On New Year's Day, however, he always gave a little gift to each one of us. It was our custom to write in turn a happy New Year letter. Loui would always come home from school to visit us during his New Year's holidays, and we had quite a number of visitors who bored us dreadfully. For me it was a time of good resolutions, and I would go to Teresa and say invariably as I embraced her. I wish you a very happy New Year, Teresa. Will you please forgive me for all the trouble I have caused you this past year? And this New Year I am going to be very good. Unfortunately, Teresa never saw any change. As Christmas time drew near, Paula questioned me to how we celebrated the day. We don't celebrate it, I said. All this sita, is that true? You do nothing special on that day? questioned my poor cousin, surprised. Now, Christmas with us is not nearly so important as the New Year. Oh, yes, I generally have to put on my Sunday dress, and then I can't play, for Teresa is afraid I'll soil it. Oh! said to Paula, whose great eyes seem to contemplate an invisible splendor. In my country always had a Christmas tree and celebrated the birth of the Lord Jesus. Tell me about it, I said. I have heard about these Christmas celebrations, but have never seen any. Well, said Paula, sit down here close to the fire, and I'll tell you what we did last year. Four of our men went to the mountains and cut down a beautiful pine tree. They had to go up to their waist in snow, and what a jab it was to bring it all the way down to Valar. But they were all very strong. My father was one of them. They dragged the tree into the church, because there wouldn't have been room for everybody in the little schoolhouse. We all helped to decorate it with gold and silver nuts, and we hung apples and oranges everywhere on its branches. But the beautiful part were the candles. There were hundreds of them, in blue, green, red, white, and yellow. If you could only have seen how beautiful it was a sita when the candles were lit, especially when they crowned the top of the tree with a lovely white angel. We sang the wonderful Christmas hymns, then the pastor gave us a fine talk about the Savior.  Oh, said I, how happy I should be if father would let us go to see it all. It must be a beautiful country. It is the most beautiful in the world, Paula assured me, her eyes sparkling. We too shall go and live there when we grow up, shall we not, Paula? Yes indeed, the sita. You know, Paula, father always gives us a New Year's present. As I saw tears come into Paula's eyes as she thought of her old home, what would you like to have if you could choose? There's just one thing I want, said Paula, and that's my little Bible. But that wouldn't be a present, I said. No, but it would give me more pleasure than any present, sighed Paula. On Thursday dawn was splendid weather. It had snowed during the night, and the whole countryside was dressed in white. The sparrows flew back and forth under our windows, seemingly remembering our custom to scatter crumbs for them on such an occasion. Of course, we soon satisfied their hunger. In the dining room a huge fire burned, and Theresa with Rosa's help prepared the New Year's breakfast. Paula helped Catalina to dress. For Catalina, contrary to her custom, decided to breakfast with us, although against Theresa's advice, for she feared such early rising would tire her too much for the rest of the day. Yes, but I wished to be on hand when father distributes his New Year gifts, our invalid said, so Theresa had to yield. Our father was late in coming, so Paula ran to tell him that breakfast was ready, and soon back she came with her hand in his, with that effecting grace that was so habitual to her. When he had received our happy New Years, father asked us if we wanted the presents before or after breakfast. Before, before, we all cried. Very well, he said. I have tried to satisfy everybody's taste, so I trust everybody will be contented.  Catalina assured me that this would give you more pleasure than anything else. Paula took the package and turned it over and over. It is a book, she said, in a voice that was none too steady. Do you think so? said Catalina with a smile. In that case, hurry up and show us. Hurry up, cried Louis, handing her his jackknife. Cut the string and open the package. We want to see what it is. She obeyed, a bit confused to see all the eyes fixed upon her. Inside she found a little black book with a much-used cover. She raised her eyes in gratitude to father and tried to thank him, but could not find a word to say. Eagerly her fingers turned the precious pages. Suddenly out fell a five-frank piece. There, there, said my father, as she tried to express her thanks, I am more than satisfied if I have made you happy. Happy, said Paula, I am more than happy. She took her beloved book, and as she turned its pages, she found still other treasures, a few faded flowers which, to my mind, appeared to have no value whatsoever. And yet I could see that they seemed to call up once more the precious memories of her past life and that far-off well-dened zine valley. Dear uncle, said Paula, did you read the book? Yes, I read part of it. But if I have returned it to you today, it is not because I have finished reading it, nor is it because Kathleen has begged me to return it to you. It is because you have obliged me to read another book. I, uncle, what book can that be? Yes, it may seem strange to you, but you see, you have lived among us in such a way that I am to confess that I wish my three daughters would imitate your manner of living. You have made me comprehend the love that your Bible speaks of, and of which Christ gave us an example, and which he apparently has put into your life, and so I give back your Bible to you with all my heart. One can imagine our feelings as we listened to the short discourse from the lips of him, who only a short time before had been so opposed to such things. And then, Paula, I have something more to say, said my father. Do you remember the day when I hit you on the head with your Bible as I took it away from you? I wish to say that I am sorry beyond expression for what I did that day. And now have you pardoned me, little daughter? For reply, Paula took my father's hands and hers. Then in a flood of generosity and forgetfulness of self, she gave her Bible back to him, simply saying, I give it back to you, dear soncle. You give it back to me, said my father, stupefied. You give me back the Bible you love so much. Yes, answered Paula, because Theresa has promised to give me another. But do you mean to tell me that you would care for a new Bible as much as this one? Oh, no, she said. Father gave me that one, and it's full of his markings. And it was in that Bible that I learned to love the Lord Jesus. And then, well, it's because it is the most precious thing that I have in all the world that I give it to you. Because you see, I love you so, and I would wish, oh, how I do wish that you could learn to know him too. My poor dear child, said my father, I cannot accept your sacrifice, but I shall always remember your thought of me. And in the meantime, if you like, we can go out and buy another Bible like yours that I, too, may read it. How will that do? At this, Paula clapped her hands in the light, as she said. Indeed, that will be wonderful. End of chapter. Part 1, chapter 13 of Paula the Wild MCN. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Paula the Wild MCN by Eva Lacompt, translated by W. M. Strong. Part 1, chapter 13, The School Teacher and Her Brother. Lucida, said Paula to me one day on returning from school, Madam was elvertude, was not in class this morning. That's all the same to me, I said with indifference, except that if I had known that, I would have gone to school anyway in spite of my chill-blanes.  Paula asked. Yes, quite a bit, but not so badly as yesterday, and it bores me terribly to stay at home alone.  Do you ever have chill-blanes? No, I don't think I ever had them. Well, I said, I always seem to be the one that gets something, something that's bad and horrible. I think that Madam was elvertude is sick, continued Paula. You're always thinking of that woman. I tell you, it doesn't make any difference to me what happens to her, I said impatiently.  No, I said. How do you expect me to like her? No matter what I do in the class, she punishes me for the slightest thing. And not only do I suffer in class, but I get 25 lines to copy after school, so that I have no time to play with the rest of them. How I do detest that woman. Of whom were you speaking? Asked Teresa, who appeared at that moment. Of the school teacher, Madam was elvertude. I have a good mind to box your ears, cried Teresa indignantly. You detest such a fine young lady who works in your behalf. Oh, Teresa, don't be angry, I said. You have no idea how she makes me suffer. When you were little, you never went to school, so you do not understand. Now listen, instead of keeping the bad children after school, she sends us all home with 20 to 50 lines to copy while she goes calmly back to her house. The other teachers keep the bad ones there for 10 minutes or so, and that's all there is to it, which is a whole lot more agreeable. Madam was elvertude is absolutely right, for she makes the punishment fit the crime. No, it isn't that, I answered in a rage. It's because she doesn't want to stay in school like the other teachers, the selfish thing. Here I am right now with lines which were given last Monday, and I'm not going to do them. She can say what she pleases. Pala, whose tender heart would have loved to have been on my side, and also on that of Madam was elvertude at the same time, suggested that perhaps she had someone who was ill in the house. She, I cried, Madam was elvertude. Who do you think would ever have such a disagreeable thing in the house with them? Besides, she has told us that her family lived far away in the country. I don't know, said Pala, but do you remember the day when we saw her carrying flowers back home with her? I dare say it was for somebody. Perhaps, I answered indifferently. That afternoon Teresa permitted me to go to school, and there I found the teacher of the third year in charge of our class. She was a beautiful woman with lovely golden hair and blue eyes and pink and white cheeks that reminded one of a wax doll. Ah, said I to myself, how I wish I was in the third year to have such a beautiful teacher always in front of me. She read to us and told us stories almost all the afternoon and never punished anybody. And on coming out of school, her two little brothers ran to embrace her affectionately. Hurry up, dear sister, said one of them. Mama is waiting for us on the porch. My, how beautiful she is, I murmured to myself. How I do love her. Madam was elvertude would never be so gentle with her little brothers if she ever had any. Then suddenly I stopped for it seemed to me that I heard Paula saying to me sadly. Are you not ashamed of yourself, Lucita? And I looked up to see Paula exchanging a few words with a poorly dressed child just before she joined me. Lucita, it is true, Paula said. Madam was elvertude is quite ill. She tried to get up this morning and wasn't able to raise her head. Victoria, the little girl who was speaking to me just now knows her very well. In fact, she lives in the same courtyard. Who is taking care of her, I said. No one as far as I can find out. Do you think Teresa would let us go to see her? No, I am sure she wouldn't. And for one thing, I'd never go. I haven't done my 50 lines. Oh, but see, I'll help you do your 50 lines right now. Oh, but that wouldn't be square. Paula laughed. You generally haven't such a delicate conscience. You know very well that half of the time, Rosa does your lines for you. Oh, Paula, I swear to you. No, don't do anything of the kind. It's useless, for I've seen it myself. And I'm sure teacher would say nothing if I were to help you in order that we should both be able to see her. I'm sure she would be so delighted, Lucita. When my father was so ill, all his pupils came to see him and he was so happy. Your father wasn't like Madam Waselvertude, though. Never, never. I'll never go to see her. The Lord Jesus said that when we go to see the sick, it is as if we visited him. Wouldn't you care to go for love of him, Lucita? Well, we'll talk about that tomorrow, I answered, not daring to refuse on such grounds and not caring to promise anything further. Teresa gave her permission and promised herself to visit the sick one at the very first opportunity. Paula wrote exactly half of my 50 lines and in order to do so, she sacrificed her play time that afternoon because she wrote so slowly. I performed my 25 without further murmuring and exacting a promise from Paula that she would go in first, I decided to accompany my cousin on her visit to the teacher. Take this, Teresa said to us at the last moment. It's just a little chocolate for the sick one for there is nothing better to fortify her strength. Oh, many thanks, said Paula. You think of everything. By the way, I've got four cents. What do you think we could buy with them? Teresa reflected a minute. Get some oranges and see that they are good and ripe. Don't stay late for the days are getting short and it gets terribly cold when the sun goes down. Paula herself suddenly became very timid as we entered the roue blanche and asked a young girl where Madam Waselle Virtude lived. Ah, you are looking for Madam Waselle, said a childish voice. It's you, Victoria, Paula cried. I'm so glad to find you here. Yes, we are looking for Madam Waselle Virtude. Come along then, said Victoria as she blew on her hands that were purple with the cold. I'll take you to her door. She took us up four flights of stairs when at last we came to Madam Waselle Virtude's apartment. Here you are, said our little guide and downstairs she went. I started to follow her on down. Oh, Lucita, cried Paula, remember your promise. Well, why don't you knock? I said rather wickedly as I saw that Paula was having trouble to muster up her courage. I don't know what's the matter with me. I can't seem to do it. In a sudden spirit of mischief, I suddenly ran to the door and gave it three tremendous knocks and then ran into the far corner of the hall. Oh, Lucita, how could you? cried poor dismayed Paula. Pretty soon we heard someone coming slowly to the door, but as if he were dragging something behind him with each step and then the door opened noiselessly and there stood a forlorn twisted little figure a lad of about 10 years. As we looked at his face with a halo of golden hair we forgot all about his deformities. Have you come to see my sister? He said. Yes, said Paula. That is, we have come to see Mademoiselle Virtude. She is very, very sick, he said and we saw that it was with difficulty that he restrained his tears. As he opened the door a bit wider to let us in we saw that a black shawl had been placed over the only window in the room so that it was extremely difficult after the door was closed for our unaccustomed eyes to see anything in the room. Alayna called the boys softly. Here are some visitors to see you. For me, said a voice from the darkness a voice which we recognized at once. Well then, Gabriel, please take the shawl from the window. They will find it too dark here. But Alayna, the light will make your head ache. No, no, dear, it's all right now, I've slept a bit and I feel better. Presently the shawl came down from the window allowing us to see the form of poor Mademoiselle Virtude on the bed. Oh, she said, so it's you. It's very kind of you, dear children, to come and see me. We stood near the door transfixed as we looked on the face of our poor sick teacher and we saw what a terrible change a few days had made. The little boy came and stood near his elder sister with a mixed air of concern and deep affection. And how is everybody at the school? Asked the invalid and Paula told her a bit about the small happenings in the class. And so Mademoiselle Virginia has taken the class. I am sure you must love her very much. Not as much as we do you, dear teacher, said Paula.  Do you not? And poor Mademoiselle Virtude looked from one to the other of us a bit sadly, I thought. At this, Paula came over to the bed and placed her warm hand on the thin cheek of the sick one. As she said, no, Mademoiselle, it is because it is true that I said it. You are our dear teacher and we know that you have sacrificed so much and worked so hard to give us knowledge and so that is why we love you. I did my 50 lines, I burst out, that is to say Paula did 25 and I did the rest. What's that you say? And a smile of amusement passed over the thin features of the teacher and yet a certain tender look came into her eyes as she said, you poor little thing, I'd forgotten all about it. Gabriel, she said, turning to the boy who had been examining us minutely, these are the young ladies who have been sending you such beautiful flowers. You see, he loves flowers so, explained Mademoiselle. Poor child, he can't walk and so he has to stay here in the stuffy room all day long. Before I was ill, I was able to take him out in his little carriage and sometimes we would go as far as the open fields where he could see all the flowers he wanted to to his heart's desire. But now that I'm confined to my bed with this heart attack, these little excursions have become impossible. Are you very sick, Mademoiselle? Paula asked. Oh, I feel very much better today. I have suffered greatly. I must get better quickly. Madame Boudre, the principal, wrote me yesterday that she hoped I would be back very soon in my place in the class. Madame Boudre does not care to have sick people and our teacher looked toward the window with its little white curtains inside deeply. Gabriel came near the bed. Don't worry about that, sister. When I get big, I will work for you and become rich and then you won't need to go to school at all. How many things I was discovering. I who thought that the life of a schoolteacher was a bed of roses. No, never anymore, continued the little boy. I know why you're sick.  But when I get big, you shall see as I said before. Mademoiselle Virtude looked at the little face with its great earnest eyes. I'm afraid you will have to wait a long, long time, she said tenderly. I don't think I ever told you young ladies that I had a little brother at home. He is the youngest of our family and I am the oldest. How is it that Gabriel is not at home with his parents? Question Paula. Because, you see, he needed certain special treatment which my parents could not give him in the small village where we live. But here in Rowan there are fine doctors and big hospitals. Of course I doubt if he can be restored completely but we are doing all we can. That is my one consolation. I didn't expect that he would be with me so long a time. The first time Gabriel came to Rowan he went into the big hospital, Hotel de Dieu, but after staying there for many months his hips seemed to be no better and they could not keep him any longer and then he stayed with me here so that I could take him to the doctor once in a while. You'll tire yourself, Mademoiselle, talking to us. Broken Paula, who had learned this much taking care of Catalina. Do you think so? said Mademoiselle. I know I am not very well yet but it isn't very often that I have the pleasure of a visit from my pupils and so I'm profiting by it. You see, I took Gabriel home once but when I started to return the poor boy begged so hard to come back with me that finally my parents agreed so he's been with me now for several years. We are very happy, are we not, Gabriel? You see, when I'm in school he's able to tidy up the house and wash the dishes. What would I do without my little Gabriel? She said as she playfully pulled the little boy's hair. And I, said Gabriel, what would I do without you? In fact, what would anybody do around this whole court without you? Wasn't it you who, there, that will do? Said Mademoiselle Virtude. You mustn't tell all the family secrets. We are here in this world to help others. Are we not, Lucida? Yes, Mademoiselle, I answered and I was filled with fear that there might be another sermon coming. However, Mademoiselle Virtude began to tell us of the rest of the family and of the little village to which they returned at vacation time and one could see that her heart was there with her loved ones. During the next few minutes there was quite a silence and I began to shiver with cold and we noticed that there was no fire in the grate. How pale you are, said Mademoiselle. Are you cold? Yes, a little, Mademoiselle, I said, quite ashamed for my discomfort to be discovered. Poor little girl, she said, taking my two hands into her hot ones that were burning with fever. You had better not stay here any longer as you are not accustomed to the cold. Our neighbor made a little fire in the grate this morning to cook the breakfast with, but it's gone out. Was it this little touch of tenderness on the part of Mademoiselle or remorse for all the wicked feelings I had so long held against my teacher? Anyway, a flood of tears came as I kneeled beside the bed and hid my face on the white cover. Oh, Mademoiselle, forgive me, I murmured between my sobs. All the pride had broken and I saw myself for what I was, guilty, unjust and cruel toward this young woman whom I had accused of living solely for herself.  I forgive you with all my heart, poor child, and the invalid's voice was both sincere and kindly and I rose and embraced her with a repentant heart and with a hearty kiss I buried our old war then and there and in that cold room I felt the warmth of the beginning of a new life for me, although at that time I could not have analyzed it. Suddenly we heard a knock at the door. Ah, that will be Madame Bertine, said Gabriel as he hitched himself to the door and opened it, revealing a gray-haired woman who came in on tiptoe. Ah, you have visitors, Mademoiselle, as she stopped a moment near the door. Only two of my pupils who have come to see me, come in, come in, it's all right, insisted the teacher. Ah, said the new arrival with great interest, so you are my Victoria's schoolmates. How proud you ought to be to have such a wonderful teacher. Here she advanced to the bed. Well, I declare, she said, you have no more drinking water. She shook a flask near the bedside, saying, I will go and fill it and bring back a little something to make a fire with so as to get your tea ready. I'm sure Gabriel must be hungry by this time. And without waiting for a reply, the good woman went rapidly down the four flights of stairs.  See, Gabriel, said Mademoiselle, as she opened the packages with delight. Oranges and chocolate, what a treat. You are very good to remember me in such a lovely way. Please thank your Theresa, too. She said she was coming to see you, said Paula. At this the poor young woman looked disturbed. I'm afraid she'll find things in a very bad state here, and she colored slightly. But as we started to go away, Paula assured her that Theresa wouldn't mind a bit. Just a moment, said the invalid. Would you mind reading me a chapter out of this book? I have not been able to read it today as my head ached too badly. It's a book that I love very much. The Bible, cried Paula. Oh, I didn't know that you read it, too. The young lady shook her head sadly. I used to read it when I was a child, Paula. It was and is the beloved book of my mother. But for many, many years I never opened it. When your uncle came to inscribe you as a pupil, he told me how much you loved your father's Bible. And that started me thinking of my own, hidden in the bottom of my trunk. And so I began to read many chapters that I remember having read with my mother. And now I believe that Gabriel would never tire if I read it to him all day.  Came the eager voice of Gabriel. Madam Waselle smiled. Gabriel is right. When people are sick, they love to hear of the greatest doctor of all. Read about the 10 lepers, Paula. At this point, the old lady returned. And she, too, stood and listened as Paula began to read the wonderful story. And as Jesus came to Jerusalem, he went through Galilee and entering into a village. Behold, 10 lepers stood afar off and cried, Jesus, master, have mercy on us. And he said to them, go show yourselves to the priest. And as they went their way, they were healed. And one of them, seeing that he was healed, returned and glorified God in a loud voice and cast himself at the feet of Jesus, giving thanks to him. And behold, he was a Samaritan. Then said Jesus, were there not 10 healed? Where are the nine? Only this foreigner has returned to give glory to God. And he said to him, rise therefore, thy faith hath made thee whole. Luke 17, 11 to 19. Here Paula stopped, not knowing whether to go on to the end of the chapter. Madame Waselvertude then closed her eyes, but one could see she was not sleeping. Paula waited in silence, and so did the old lady as she stood there with her toil-worn hands clasped beneath her apron. Read some more, said Gabriel. No, said Madame Waselvertude. It's time the children returned for they must reach home before dark. She drew us to her, giving us both a long embrace. May God bless you both, my dear young friends. Come back soon to see me. Then Victoria's mother embraced us also, saying at the same time, I have a poor blind daughter. I would be very grateful if you would stop in to see her the next time and read her the same story you have just read to Madame Wasel. I don't know how to read, she continued. I have such a poor stupid head, and Victoria doesn't seem to have learned to read very well. She can show you where we live, and now goodbye until the next time. On our return, Teresa prepared supper. She was more hurried than usual because she had to get the week's wash ready for the next day, but she listened with great interest, nevertheless, to the story of our afternoon's visit. I'm going to see her tomorrow, poor child, she said. That night, Teresa came to tuck us in and kiss us good night, which was her habit, as she said, to try to take partly the place of our poor dear mother. I whispered in her ear, Teresa, I've come to love Madame Waselvertude. Good, good, exclaimed the old servant, that's something new indeed, and why has the wind so suddenly changed in her direction? It's because I know her now, I said. Teresa seated herself on my bed, and in spite of the cold, she talked to me a long time, telling me that my heart's coldness and my selfishness had caused her much grief. I could see how happy I had made her to have confessed my faults, and thus show the beginning of a great change.  Then she spoke of Paula, who thought of nothing except making other people happy. Wouldn't you like to be like Paula? Teresa questioned me. Of course, dear Teresa, I said, but that's impossible, I'm too bad for that. Who it is, Lucita, that makes Paula so good, and Teresa's voice took on a new and most tender note. It's the Lord Jesus, I answered in a low whisper. That's well answered, Lucita, and the same Lord Jesus would do the like for you. Let me ask you something. Do you not find me changed since I began to pray to Him? Yes, Teresa. And in what way have you noticed the change? Well, for one thing, Wash Day doesn't make you irritable as it used to do, I said. That's something now, isn't it? Oh, when one has the peace of God in the heart, anger doesn't have a chance to get inside as it used to do. I looked at her furtively. By the lamp light I could see in those dark blue eyes such a new, such a tender, confident look that in spite of the wrinkled cheeks and her white hair, I saw a startling likeness to Paula herself. I couldn't explain it at the time, but later I understood. Teresa and Paula were just part of the family of God, and it was His likeness of Jesus, His dear son, I had seen in both of them. End of part one, chapter 13. End of part one.