"Yes, sir, I do."

"When did you begin to pray?"

"From the time that Paula entered the house, sir."

"I suspected that."

"Now, please don't go and rebuke her, sir. If you only knew how she loves
you, and how she prays for you and Catalina. Oh, sir, how many times she
has made me blush for shame."

"How so, my good Teresa?"

"That's a fact, sir. I used to think to myself, 'You're a pretty good
woman, you have suffered much in your life, you work hard, you don't do any
harm to anybody, surely you will go to heaven.' But when I saw Paula and
the reality of her religion, and how she loved God, oh, then, sir, I
comprehended for the first time in my life that I was a sinner worthy of
hell, and I prayed to God that He would pardon me."

"And--did He do it?"

"The Saviour assures us, sir, that 'He that cometh to Him, He will in no
wise cast out.' So I dare to believe that He has pardoned me" Teresa was
pale with emotion. It was the first time that she had confessed the Lord
before men, and it cost her a good deal to do so to my father. He was
apparently too depressed to be angry. After a moment of silence he said,
"Where is Paula?"