CATALINA'S ILLNESS

Teresa had not been mistaken. Catalina became so critically ill during the
following week, that my father lost all hope of her recovery. Not being
able to be with her during the day, he watched at her bedside during the
greater part of the night, and if it had not been for Teresa, who compelled
him to go and take some rest, he would have, undoubtedly, suffered a
collapse himself. How long those days appeared to be in spite of the happy
companionship that I had found with my dear cousin Paula! My father hardly
noticed us, absorbed as he was with the fear that filled his heart, and
Teresa was occupied with so many tasks that she had no time for us either.

Rosa had to leave school in order to help nurse the sick one, and Paula
also was required to stay home until the afternoon session. As for me, I
was packed off to school in the morning, carrying my lunch in a little
basket, fearing each night as I came back to the house that I would receive
bad news as to Catalina. My! What grand resolutions for the future I made
during those sad days--to try to love my poor sick sister, and to treat her
better than I had done, should she recover.

One afternoon, I was surprised to find my father at home. It was only about
five o'clock and he generally did not return from work until eight. He
seemed so sad and depressed that I dared not embrace him as was our custom.
Teresa crossed the dining-room and gave me her usual warning. "Don't make
any noise, Lisita. Go and sit down and be quiet"

"Teresa," said my father in a low voice, "do you think Catalina would be
able to see the children?"'