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?"'
"Why do you ask that, sir?" she said.
"I would like them to see her that she may embrace them for the last time.
You know what the doctor said."
"Oh, those doctors!" said Teresa in a scornful tone. "The doctors don't
know what they're talking about. Don't lose hope, sir. I know that Catalina
may not live to be very old, but if God wills her to live, she will do so
in spite of the doctors."
"Yes, but you know how weak she is. She never will be able to survive so
many complications. And yet, how can I bear such affliction? She reminds me
so much of her mother, the same voice, the same blue eyes, and even her
identical way of smiling.
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