The Eternal City | Page 4

little grey
squirrel. It was frozen stiff with the cold and now quite dead, but he
grasped it tightly and kissed it passionately, while big teardrops rolled
on to his cheeks.
"Carino!" said the doctor again, taking the dead squirrel away, and after
a while the boy lay quiet and was comforted.
"Italiano--si?"
"Si, Signore."
"From which province?"
"Campagna Romana, Signore."
"Where does he say he comes from, doctor?"
"From the country district outside Rome. And now you are living at

Maccari's in Greek Street--isn't that so?"
"Yes, sir."
"How long have you been in England--one year, two years?"
"Two years and a half, sir."
"And what is your name, my son?"
"David Leone."
"A beautiful name, carino! David Le-o-ne," repeated the doctor,
smoothing the curly hair.
"A beautiful boy, too! What will you do with him, doctor?"
"Keep him here to-night at all events, and to-morrow we'll see if some
institution will not receive him. David Leone! Where have I heard that
name before, I wonder? Your father is a farmer?"
But the boy's face had clouded like a mirror that has been breathed
upon, and he made no answer.
"Isn't your father a farmer in the Campagna Romana, David?"
"I have no father," said the boy.
"Carino! But your mother is alive--yes?"
"I have no mother."
"Caro mio! Caro mio! You shall not go to the institution to-morrow,
my son," said the doctor, and then the mirror cleared in a moment as if
the sun had shone on it.
"Listen, father!"
Two little feet were drumming on the floor above.

"Baby hasn't gone to bed yet. She wouldn't sleep until she had seen the
boy, and I had to promise she might come down presently."
"Let her come down now," said the doctor.
The boy was supping a basin of broth when the door burst open with a
bang, and like a tiny cascade which leaps and bubbles in the sunlight, a
little maid of three, with violet eyes, golden complexion, and glossy
black hair, came bounding into the room. She was trailing behind her a
train of white nightdress, hobbling on the portion in front, and carrying
under her arm a cat, which, being held out by the neck, was coiling its
body and kicking its legs like a rabbit.
But having entered with so fearless a front, the little woman drew up
suddenly at sight of the boy, and, entrenching herself behind the doctor,
began to swing by his coat-tails, and to take furtive glances at the
stranger in silence and aloofness.
"Bless their hearts! what funny things they are, to be sure," said the
mother. "Somebody seems to have been telling her she might have a
brother some day, and when nurse said to Susanna, 'The doctor has
brought a boy home with him to-night,' nothing was so sure as that this
was the brother they had promised her, and yet now ... Roma, you silly
child, why don't you come and speak to the poor boy who was nearly
frozen to death in the snow?"
But Roma's privateering fingers were now deep in her father's pocket,
in search of a specimen of the sugar-stick which seemed to live and
grow there. She found two sugar-sticks this time, and sight of a second
suggested a bold adventure. Sidling up toward the couch, but still
holding on to the doctor's coat-tails, like a craft that swings to anchor,
she tossed one of the sugar-sticks on to the floor at the boy's side. The
boy smiled and picked it up, and this being taken for sufficient
masculine response, the little daughter of Eve proceeded to proper
overtures.
"Oo a boy?"

The boy smiled again and assented.
"Oo me brodder?"
The boy's smile paled perceptibly.
"Oo lub me?"
The tide in the boy's eyes was rising rapidly.
"Oo lub me eber and eber?"
The tears were gathering fast, when the doctor, smoothing the boy's
dark curls again, said:
"You have a little sister of your own far away in the Campagna
Romana--yes?"
"No, sir."
"Perhaps it's a brother?"
"I ... I have nobody," said the boy, and his voice broke on the last word
with a thud.
"You shall not go to the institution at all, David," said the doctor softly.
"Doctor Roselli!" exclaimed his wife. But something in the doctor's
face smote her instantly and she said no more.
"Time for bed, baby."
But baby had many excuses. There were the sugar-sticks, and the pussy,
and the boy-brother, and finally her prayers to say.
"Say them here, then, sweetheart," said her mother, and with her cat
pinned up again under one arm and the sugar-stick held under the other,
kneeling face to the fire, but screwing her half-closed eyes at intervals
in the direction of the couch, the little maid