Mrs. Carter replied, “and it has been even worse for him. He has been so brave and uncomplaining that I suppose we have no idea what he has suffered. And I confess that I didn’t sleep much more than you and he last night. I wish I knew that no poor people were starving to death or freezing.”
“I dread to hear the reports from the storm,” said Bess soberly. “We have come out quite well. But you go to bed and try to have a little sleep. I’ll stay here and wait for Fred to wake up. I hate to disturb him.”
And tired as she was, drowsy and longing for rest, she sat by the fire until the clock struck one and the lamp burned low, rather than awaken the sleeping child. At length she went out to look at him, and sat down on the edge of the sofa, thinking to waken him; but as she saw his tired little face and quiet, even breathing, she waited and still kept her uncomfortable seat, till her cramped position forced her to move. The boy stirred as she touched his hand.
“What time is it? Have I been asleep?” he inquired, stretching himself.
