Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

"And you? How about yourself?"
"Oh, boys wouldn't cry for a little thing like that. I'm surprised, though,
that father hit her."
"I'm surprised too," said Rosa, "but, of course, she must learn to obey."
"I wonder what can be in this Bible of hers to make her love it so,"
continued Louis. "Any way, what is a Bible? Is it a kind of a prayer-book?"
"No," I said, proud that I knew so much, "it's not a prayer-book. At least
I have seen Paula pray in the morning and at night. She kneels and closes her
eyes and prays, and does not use the Book at all during the time that she
prays. She tells me that in the Book she learns how to be good and to serve
God. Her father used to read it to her every day, and when he died she
promised him to continue to read it."
"Poor Paula!" sighed Rosa. "There is something mighty fine about her. I
wonder how all this is going to come out."
"I think she'll die," I said, trying hard to keep back the tears.
"Nonsense," said Louis, "she'll not die! Not she! Don't worry about that.
In a few days she'll forget all about it. But I can't help feeling very sorry to
see her so unhappy. Well, good-bye, Rosa. Don't cry anymore, Lisita. I'm
going into the kitchen to see what's happened to poor Paula."
I followed him out and we found the kitchen empty. I went to our room
and found Teresa seated on my bed with Paula on her lap. I heard Teresa say,
"My treasure, don't cry any more! Don't afflict poor Teresa who loves you
so, and who loved your mother before you. Now, come, come, my angel, that
will do. You will make yourself sick. See, here comes Lisita also to comfort
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