good constitution, you know! And how is mamma? And Concettella? And the little baby?—How are they all? I am leaving the hospital now. Come, then. Oh, good Heaven! Who would have thought it!”
The boy tried to say a few words, to tell the news of the family. “Oh how happy I am!” he stammered. “How happy I am! What terrible days I have passed!” And he could not finish kissing his father.
But he did not stir.
“Come,” said his father; “we can get home this evening.” And he drew the lad towards him. The boy turned to look at his patient.
“Well, are you coming or not?” his father asked, in amazement.
The boy gave still another look at the sick man, who opened his eyes at that moment and gazed intently at him.
Then a flood of words poured from his very soul. “No, daddy; wait—here.—I can't. Here is this old man. I have been here for five days. He watches me all the time. I thought he was you. I love him dearly. He looks at me; I give him his drink; he wants me always beside him; he is very ill now. Have patience; I have not the courage—I don't know—it pains me too much; I will go to-morrow; let me stay here a little longer; I don't at all like to leave him. See how he looks at me! I don't know who he is, but he wants me; he will die alone: let me stay here, dear daddy!”
“Bravo, little fellow!” exclaimed the attendant.
