"Oh, Catalina," I exclaimed, kneeling beside the bed, "please don't die. I do love you so. I promise to come and care for you every day and I'll never make another noise while you are sick. 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 Lisita 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, "Lisita, 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. "Now kiss me. Tell me that you forgive me." "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 enjoy such good health." "Yes, that's true," said Catalina, "but I'm 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 Lisita, come and kiss me once more." I could have wished to have stayed there on my knees for hours and hide my head with shame and tears, but I didn't dare refuse to show this last sign of affection for Catalina. So I laid my hot cheek against that of my sister, toying to bid her good-bye, 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. Lebon came and went two or three times a day. Teresa 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 now replaced Teresa, 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.