"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 and buy another Bible like yours that I, too, may read it. How will that do?" At this Paula clapped her hands in delight, as she said, "Indeed, that will be wonderful!" CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE SCHOOL-TEACHER AND HER BROTHER "Lisita," said Paula to me one day on returning from school, "Mlle. Virtud 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 chilblains." "Do they still hurt you so badly," Paula asked. "Yes, quite a bit; but not so badly as yesterday, and it bores me terribly to stay at home alone. You see, Teresa makes me clean the spinach, and Catalina gives me a basketful of stockings to darn, and I think I'd rather go to school, especially if there is anything the matter with the teacher, even though my feet hurt worse than a toothache. Do you ever have chilblains?" "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 Mlle. Virtud 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. "Oh, Lisita, aren't you ashamed to say such a thing?" "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 twenty-five 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, Mlle. Virtud." "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 twenty to fifty lines to copy, while she goes calmly back to her house. The other teachers keep the bad ones there for ten minutes or so, and that's all there is to it, which is a whole lot more agreeable." "Mlle. Virtud is absolutely right, for she makes the punishment fit the crime."