The Doctor frowned. “Is there any one here who can speak Italian?” he called out to the waiting crowd. A man stepped forward, while the Doctor sent Paolo aside. “Tell her, please, that unless she brings Paolo here regularly, and gives him the medicine every day, I will not answer for the consequences.—Do you see that boy over there?” The Doctor indicated a tiny fellow with fine Greek features, whose mother was crying over him in the corner. “Well; that woman would not leave him in our care, because she was too obstinate. And although she lives close by, she would not take the time and trouble to bring him in for treatment. So now he will lose the sight of one eye at least. Tell Mrs. Valentino that Paolo’s eyes are very bad, and he will fare worse than that boy, unless she does as I say.”
The woman burst into hysterical grief, and clasped Paolo passionately, mumbling endearing syllables in her musical tongue. The boy’s brown eyes filled too, and he tried to comfort her. Pitying herself for her many troubles, the mother led Paolo away.
“She will not come back,” thought the Doctor. “I see it in her face. The Social Service Department will have to get busy.”
The Social Service Department of the Infirmary did get busy, as in all such cases. When Paolo did not reappear, they went to look him up. The Visitor coaxed and re-urged the dazed, inefficient mother. But it was hopeless. Finally the case was reported to the proper authorities. But already Paolo’s mother had loved him to death. Stephanie was not to see her little neighbor again.
Meanwhile, for Stephanie herself there had begun what was—apart from a little discomfort at the beginning—the happiest three weeks she had ever known. To begin with, her poor ragged clothes were taken away, and she had a lovely warm bath in a tub; in itself a novel experience. With her yellow curls nicely brushed, sweet and clean from top to toe, she was then tucked away in a little white cot all by herself,—this also was an unheard-of luxury!—in a sunny, airy room where other clean children were playing about like a happy family. At first poor little Stephanie was too miserable to do more than snuggle into the soft, sweet pillow, and allow herself sulkily to be fed with easily swallowed things. A kind Voice, associated with strong and gentle hands, attended to her wants. But Stephanie slept most of the time; dreaming of happy faces, merry laughter, and feet running about a Kindergarten.
After two days of existing as a mere little mollusc, one morning Stephanie sat up and began to take notice. A beautiful white-clad Being put her into a neat cotton frock and pinafore. Only Stephanie’s scarred shoes were left to remind her of the home that seemed mercifully far away. They tied a shade over her eyes, to help the squint, and for the first time she looked around with interest at the nursery.
What a pleasant place it was! Stephanie had never seen anything nearly so beautiful; except the Kindergarten. Poor little Stephanie! It had been hard luck to give up the Kindergarten, just when she was growing so happy there. The school nurse had seen that she must stop. But—there was a rose on the table here, too! A red rose! And children playing games, just like a real kindergarten! But these children were not all of Stephanie’s age. Some were bigger; some much littler. Why, in the very next cot to her lay a wee baby, sucking a bottle. Nurse said its mother was sick in another room. Stephanie thought this baby would be nicer than a doll to play with. And oh, oh! Over there was a little black live doll, with eyes that rolled and blinked, and real hair standing up all over her head; and a big red bow! Stephanie grinned at the doll; and oh, oh! The doll grinned back! Stephanie waved her arms up and down. And the funny doll stretched her mouth in white-toothed glee, and did just what Stephanie did. This was better even than Kindergarten!
What else was there in the lovely room? Stephanie looked around. There were nine little beds against the walls, and as many more in the next ward, as she soon learned when she began to investigate. Most of the beds were empty in the daytime. Across the room from Stephanie a big boy sat up among pillows, reading. He laughed when Nurse told him a funny story, but could only whisper in reply, holding on to his throat. Stephanie understood perfectly, and was very sorry for poor Tom. She was sorrier still when dinner-time came; when she and the other dressed children gathered about little low tables, with bibs on. Soup was all that poor Tom could swallow. But Stephanie could eat fish, and potato; and there was a nice pudding, too! Poor Tom! Stephanie ate ravenously, after her two days’ fast. No puddings ever happened in the home she had left.
The twenty little children were too busy eating to talk. “More bread and butter? More milk? Yes, indeed. All you want.” Just think; Stephanie could have all the milk she wanted! That had never happened before in her life. She thought she must be in Heaven. The children were of all shades and manners,—perhaps that was like Heaven, too; who knows? Most of them wore curious foreign names, but they all spoke English, after a fashion. Some of them were just learning the ways of good Americans at the table and elsewhere. Frank, who sat next Stephanie, was a little pig. He made faces, spilled his milk and scattered his crumbs, so that She,—the Angel in white,—scolded him, and made him sit by himself at another table, till he should be more careful.
But Stephanie liked John, with the big grey eyes, who was a little gentleman; though he wore such a funny thing like a bonnet on his head,—and he a big boy of eight! Stephanie loved at first sight Dottie Dimple with the pink cheeks and one lovely blue eye. She cried when John explained that one day Dottie had poked a pair of scissors into the other eye, so that it would never see any more.