Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

Teresa shrugged her shoulders.
"I'll go at once, and I'll take Paula with me."
Murmuring her thanks, the woman left. "Can't I go?" I said. "Oh, Teresa,
please let me go too."
Teresa hesitated. "All right, come along!" she said at last.
Louisa's neighbor had not exaggerated her condition. The poor woman
was sitting up in her bed. Its thin covers could not protect her from the cold,
and a terrible cough racked her thin frame. When, at times, the cough left her
she would fall back on her pillow completely exhausted. It needed all
Teresa's efforts to restore her.
"My poor Louisa!" said Teresa tenderly.
"You were very good to come," said the neighbor who was staying as
nurse. "And Mademoiselle Paula?"
"Here she is. Come here, Paula."
And as Paula came near the bed, Louisa said with a weak voice. "Now I
understand the love of God, for when you kissed me and embraced me, it
was that kiss that made me understand that God loves even me. I will soon
be far from the living, but I shall die in the arms of the Lord Jesus."
"Now, don't cry," continued Louisa weakly, as she saw us all weeping.
"My misfortunes have been my own fault. I was selfish, I wished to live
alone without God and without hope. I have been abandoned. I have known
what it was to be cold and hungry for many years; but the happiest time of
my life has been these last three days. They began with your visit,
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