They remarked upon the
beauty of her eyes and hair, the latter reaching almost to her knees.
Coming out of class at noon-time all forty-five pupils surrounded her
affectionately, and at the end of a week Paula was the best-known pupil in
the entire school. Catalina was right, however, for Paula was not really a
student, but she applied herself because, as she said, she did not wish to
cause pain to Mademoiselle, the teacher.
As she left the school in the afternoon, the teacher would kiss Paula with
a tenderness not seen toward others. At times Paula would bring her a few
flowers, which caused Mademoiselle's eyes to sparkle with such happiness
that she almost seemed beautiful to us.
"Have you a garden?" she said to us one day.
"Yes, Mademoiselle."
"How happy I should be to have one. When you have an over-abundance of
flowers don't forget me."
"Poor Mademoiselle Virtud," said Paula one day, "I am sure she has some
secret burden."
"Nobody likes her," I said. (I remembered that I had twenty-five lines to
copy because I had talked all the afternoon.)
"God loves her!"
"And you?" I questioned.
"Oh, certainly," said Paula.
"Notwithstanding she is so disagreeable?"
"I do not know.
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