Of course, I showed Paula all our toys and dolls and the wonderful
illustrated books that had been given me from time to time by relatives and
friends. Paula was in ecstasies in this new world of books that opened
before her. She touched my dolls one by one, looking at them with awe,
examining their clothes, passing and repassing her fingers through their
hair and exclaimed, "Oh, how beautiful! Never have I seen such things
before!" Paula in her turn, showed us her treasures. They were not very
numerous, but we could see our country cousin esteemed them very highly.
With a trembling hand she untied a red-and-blue pocket-handkerchief, and
without a word placed on the table a portrait, a little black-covered book,
and some faded flowers. I took up the portrait. It was that of a young man
with smiling eyes, quite similar to those of Paula, and with that same
kindness and sweetness in his face, so that it was not difficult to
recognize who he might be. "It's my father," said Paula quite simply.

I wished at that moment I could have said something to comfort her but I
could not find a word to say. Sobbing, I embraced her, and I felt her hot
tears mingling with mine.

"Don't let us cry any more," she said presently. "My father has gone to
heaven and my mother also. They are there with the Lord. Some day we shall
go and join them, and we shall be with them there forever; shall we not,
Lisita?" "Yes," I said, somewhat troubled.

"See my flowers," she said. "I picked them near our house in the morning
just before leaving. Do you not see? Here are forget-me-nots, pansies and
daisies. Poor little things! It is hard to recognize them, but I shall keep
them always, and when I return to Villar, I will carry them with me." "But
you will never return there," I cried, "you are to stay with us always. I
never want you to leave us."