But Catalina said, "Let her alone, father. It really does me good to see her cry. I never dreamed that Lisita had any heart at all. But I see now that it has been all my fault. If I had only been a bit better-tempered with her, she would have shown me a little more affection. Rosa, give me a little water, please." And Rosa placed a teaspoonful of water between the lips of our poor sister.
"Are you quite bad, my daughter?" asked my father.
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."