Paula the Waldensian Part 16

My father looked at Catalina tenderly as if he read her very heart, and saw there something he had never seen before. "Thou hast changed much, daughter mine, since your last sickness."

"For better or worse?" asked Catalina with a mischievous smile.

"For better, my daughter. Indeed, far better!"

"It's because I'm older than I was, perhaps, father."

"No, no; it's more than that."

"I wonder if I could dare tell you the truth."

"Never fear. Tell me what's on your mind, Catalina."

"Well, it's this, father dear. G.o.d has spoken to me and I have answered Him."

"How has He spoken to thee?" said my father, and there was no sternness in his look either.

Catalina pointed furtively at Paula.

"And how hast thou answered Him?"

"I've asked Him that He might save me and that He might make me a real Christian."

There was a strange look in my poor father's face as he answered quietly, "If I could believe that there was a G.o.d, I would say that He had heard thee."

Catalina wrote a long letter to grandmother, the contents of which she did not care to show us. So it was as Catalina wished, and Maria promised to take good care of the invalid.

At last the great day arrived. Paula and I, up at sunrise, scurried to the window to look at the weather, and oh joy! It was a magnificent day without a cloud in the sky! A little later when Teresa arrived to call us, great was her surprise to find us all ready to start.

"What a wonderful thing," she remarked dryly, "you'd never be late to school if you did this every morning."

After the first moment of enthusiasm, Paula strangely enough began to lose little by little the happy atmosphere which usually surrounded her. I discovered soon the cause. She was thinking of Catalina.

"It's going to be terribly lonely for her," she said.

"Never fear," I said, "she can go another time."

But she shook her head as if trying to throw off something painful that seemed to be on her mind.

"Oh, Lisita, if you could but know how lonely Catalina will feel as she sees us go without her. When I took her breakfast to her yesterday and saw that she had been crying I simply could not bear the thought of leaving her at home alone."

"But if papa says it is all right, it can't be so bad. Besides, father loves her as much as you do."

Paula didn't answer me.

Soon the time came to start. Teresa started calling to one and another. One had lost this thing, another had misplaced something else. My father scolded and helped, at the same time trying to get us off. Then Rosa wasn't ready and Louis, always unprepared, couldn't find his favorite blue necktie. At last we were ready. The only thing that remained was to say good-bye to Catalina. Louis, impatient to be off, performed that ceremony quickly; Rosa who had reserved a surprise for the invalid, put a new book into her hand as she kissed her; Teresa, as she embraced her in her turn, left many instructions; then, as Paula came forward, we heard a sob as she buried her face on my oldest sister's shoulder.

"What's the matter now?" said my father. An unintelligible sound was heard; but Catalina understood and her eyes moistened with happiness. "Oh, father," she said, "I know; she's crying on my account, she doesn't want to leave me alone here." "Is that it, Paula?" questioned my father. "Yes, please leave me here, uncle, I shall be so happy to be at Catalina's side while you are gone." But Catalina refused this sacrifice, saying, "No, no, my dear little Paula. I'll not be lonely. You have too tender a heart. Now go, things will be all right here. Everything has been arranged for me, and it will make me happy to know of the good time you are all to have with our grandmother."

My father didn't know what to do. The time was pa.s.sing. "Come, Paula, come," he said; "it's time to go."

Paula raised her head. "If you order me to go, I'll go, for I must obey you, and I know they are waiting for us. But if you will _permit_ me to stay"--and she put emphasis on the word _permit_ in her peculiarly irresistible manner--"I would be a whole lot happier here than in 'Las Lilas.'"

"Stay then," said my father, as he added with a smile, "You certainly are a little despot, for you seem to twist me to your will in everything."

Paula laughed at this, as happy as if she had received the most valuable of gifts, as she kissed him.

"Oh, yes; kisses are all very well," said father, pretending to be angry, "but what will the grandparents say?"

"You will tell them"--but the rest of the sentence I could not hear, as she bent close to my father's ear.

"Where's Paula?" everybody cried, as we went through the door downstairs.

"Look," said my father, pointing to the upper window. There was Paula, with a radiant face, waving her handkerchief in good-bye to all of us!

"Come, come, hurry up; stop your fooling!" cried Louis.

"I'm staying here."

"How is that?"

"Oh, I'm just staying with Catalina."

"That's too much!" cried Louis, "to stay here while the rest of us go on a holiday. Papa, you won't permit such a silly thing; will you?"

"Well, she begged me with tears to let her stay and there she is," said father.

"Good-bye, uncle; good-bye, Teresa--A happy journey to you all," cried Paula. "Give a good hug and a kiss to grandmother and to grandfather," we heard her say as we turned the corner.

"She isn't a bit like the rest of us," said Louis, "she never seems to seek her own pleasure, and yet the funny thing about it is, she's always happy.

I can't understand a nature like that."

"It's because she finds her happiness in making other people happy," said Teresa.

This was also what our grandmother said, when we explained Paula's absence.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE CAT MOTHER

It was the month of October. I was sure that my father would permit Paula to go to school with me after the summer vacation, but not so. Catalina herself wished to teach her at home. This decision caused me many tears and complainings.

Teresa tried to console me. "Don't worry," she said, "just wait a little. I know Catalina, she'll soon tire of teaching, and then she'll let Paula go to school with you." Teresa was right In the beginning Catalina was enchanted with the task. Paula was obedient, and she did the best she could; but she didn't learn very quickly, therefore Catalina soon tired, and Paula, with a teacher so inexperienced, became sleepy and inattentive.

So it was that the teacher tired the pupil and the pupil tired the teacher.

Catalina was the first to complain. "Paula doesn't care much for study,"