"What's finished?" I asked. "My old dress," she said. "Who would have thought I could do a job like this! But there it is turned and darned and lengthened. Happily, I don't believe that poor Celestina Dubois will be very difficult to please"--and Catalina pulled a comical smile. As one looked at that peaceful, beautiful face it was hard to realize that it could belong to the poor, miserable, complaining invalid of a short time before! "What a shame that it's still snowing so hard," she said, "I would have liked to have sent it over to Celestina today. Teresa says the poor woman needs it badly. But I suppose we'll have to wait till morning." "That won't be at all necessary," said Paula, "We're not afraid of a little snow; are we, Lisita? If you only knew how I love to go out into a snowstorm like this!" "You must be like the mountain goats of your own country," said Catalina with a laugh. "To think of getting any pleasure in going out in a snowstorm!" "Oh, no!" said Paula. "The goats don't like the cold." "Well, I declare!" said Catalina, "I wouldn't have believed that! Well, run and ask permission of Teresa." And Teresa dressed us up as if we were going on a voyage to the North Pole and gave us a thousand instructions. "Above all things don't 'dilly-dally' on the way," she said. "The Breton was released from jail today, and you may depend on it he will not be in a very good humor. What a shame that Celestina should have such a terrible neighbor. You can never tell what a man like that may do. If my rheumatism would only let me, I would gladly go with you." "What on earth would we do if we happened to meet the Breton?" I questioned Paula, and terror began to grip my heart as we drew near the drunkard's house. "Don't you be afraid, Lisita," said Paula, taking my trembling hand in hers. Celestina received us with exclamations of surprise and delight. Overcome with emotion, she said, "To think of your coming to see me through all this terrible storm! I never would have expected you on such a day!" We noticed a shade of sadness in her tone, and Paula questioned her as to the reason. The old lady shook her head. "No, there's nothing particular," she said; "the Lord seems to heap good things upon me; but at times on nearing the end of the journey the pilgrim gets a bit tired and longs for the blessed final rest." Then she paused and turned to us once more with a smile. "And you, young people, how goes the journey with you?" "I too find," said Paula gravely, "that at times the way is difficult, but as we put our hand in that of the Lord Jesus, He helps and strengthens us." The old lady's eyes were full of amusement as she answered, "My, oh, me! You talk as wisely as an old traveler who is about to finish his long journey instead of being still at the bottom of the hill. And your uncle! Has he begun to go with you yet?" "My uncle," and Paula hesitated, "at least he permits us to serve the Lord."