For a while 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 great dark eyes, as-she exclaimed, "Yes, He does hear wicked people." "How do you know that?" I said. "Because when Jesus Christ hung on the cross, one of the robbers asked Him to remember him when He came into His kingdom, and the Lord promised to do so." "Well, then," I murmured, "perhaps the Lord might hear me also." Paula turned about and faced me. "But, my dear Lisita, 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, Lisita! I don't like to hear you say that you're wicked, for you are a good girl, and I love you dearly, Lisita!" 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. Teresa had come in to say good-night and put out the light. I hadn't the courage to get up and kneel beside the bed as Paula did, but I joined my hands in prayer and closed my eyes as she had done, and with my head buried in the pillow, I murmured, "Oh, my God, I've never asked anything of You, and I wouldn't have dared to have said a word 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, and I'm going to be better from now on. My God, please let her live, 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. CHAPTER EIGHT THE FIVE-FRANC 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, and besides, that sensitive conscience of hers always seemed to be in a struggle between obedience to her God and her duty towards my father.