Paula had quickly learned to make herself useful. She lacked experience in a house like ours, but her willingness and cheerfulness more than made up for the clumsiness of her hands as she would say to Teresa, "Let me do that, dear Teresa; you are so tired, and you have so much work now." Teresa, accustomed as she was to perform everything herself, hesitated a little at first; but Paula would look at her in such a beseeching 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 alone to the city?" Paula said to her. "If you did not have to go out, you could help Teresa so much more in caring for Catalina." "That's true; but you couldn't go alone to the city. You'd get lost!" "No, no, never fear such a thing. Let me go, and I'll have not a bit of trouble finding my way back." And Rosa, like Teresa, at 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, she'll ever get well?" "That I don't know, Lisita. But I believe she will. Teresa prays for her, and so do I. God is able to heal all the sick people. You know that; don't you, Lisita?" And then, as she thought of the dear sick one that the Lord had not healed, whose body was lying in the faraway Waldensian 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 one's self 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. She torments herself so, and seems so afraid to die." "Oh, Paula, how I wish 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 good-bye 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 dare 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, Lisita! 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."