For some minutes, Catalina could not reply, but finally she said, "Lisita,
don't cry any more, please. Now, listen."

I tried to calm myself.

"We need to ask each other's pardon, my poor little sister," she said.

"Now kiss me. Tell me that you forgive me."

"Oh, yes, indeed, I do forgive you," I answered, "from the bottom of my
heart. It is I who have been wicked, whereas you have been so very, very
sick, while I enjoy such good health."

"Yes, that's true," said Catalina, "but I'm older, and I should have shown
you a better example. I had always thought of myself and now--it's too late
to change! Come, dear Lisita, come and kiss me once more."

I could have wished to have stayed there on my knees for hours and hide my
head with shame and tears, but I didn't dare refuse to show this last sign
of affection for Catalina. So I laid my hot cheek against that of my
sister, toying to bid her good-bye, and her tears mingled with mine.

When Paula's turn came, Catalina was so exhausted that she could hardly say
a word. But finally, she said, "You will take my place at father's side,
Paula. Father, I'm dying. Paula will take my place, and I know she will be
a better daughter that I could have ever been."

Her strength was going rapidly and we could hardly hear her words. And now
my father softly put her back on the pillows and motioned us to retire.