"Goodbye, Louisa," said Paula, and suddenly kissing her, she gave her a hearty embrace as well and added, "I am going to pray for you, dear Louisa." 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." Murmuring her thanks, the woman left. "Can't I go?" I said. "Oh, Teresa, please let me go too." Teresa hesitated. "All right, come along!" she said at last. Louisa'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 racked 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 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 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!"