I didn't care for her very much, but
that day I pitied her with all my heart and I did what I could to calm her;
for once her nerves were excited, nothing could console the poor unhappy
girl. Besides, I was very much afraid that she would be able to change my
father's purpose in regard to Paula. He, generally so severe, so cold, and
insensible in his attitude toward us, obeyed the slightest wish of his
eldest daughter. And if--if!--she succeeded in preventing Paula's coming I
felt that I would never, never pardon Catalina! But now I tried to embrace
her.
"Listen," I said; "father had to go out, but when he returns he will tell
you the same thing that I have told you!"
But Catalina would not hear me. With her head hidden in the pillows, she
continued crying.
I was desperate! As a rule it took a lot less than this to make Catalina
worse. Catalina worse! And all my fault! What would my father say! And yet
I had had no bad intentions. How could I have known that she would have
received my good news in this way? Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. Leaving
Catalina I ran to the kitchen where Teresa was preparing the vegetables for
supper. "Teresa, come quickly," I cried with my eyes full of tears;
"Catalina is making herself sick with crying.
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