"So you are tired of your home," continued the doctor, "and think you could find kinder treatment among strangers who care nothing for you. I am sorry that my little son has come to such a conclusion. But if you are determined to leave us, there is no necessity for you to slip off like a thief in the night. Winter is coming on, and you will need all your warm clothes. Better take time to pack them properly, and collect whatever of your belongings you want to keep. I am very much afraid that this day's work is going to make your little sister ill. No doubt you will feel worse for it yourself, and will need a good rest before starting out. Maybe you'd better wait until Monday, before you turn your back for ever on your home and family."
The doctor waited a moment, but Phil made no answer. After waiting another moment, still without a word from Phil, the doctor said, "Good night, my son," and walked down-stairs into the library.
Now, I know well enough that, when we started out in the morning, Phil was fully determined to run away from home, as soon as he could earn enough money to take him. I couldn't understand what had changed his mind so completely. You can imagine my surprise when he began to sob, "Oh, papa! papa! You didn't kiss me good night and you don't care a bit if I run away! Oh, I don't want to go now! I don't want to!"
It sounded so pitiful that I got up off my cushion and walked over to the bed. All that I could do was to take his head in my arms and rub it and pat it and rub it again. I think it comforted him a little, although he sobbed out at first: "Oh, Dago, you're the only friend I've got! It's awful when a little boy's mother is dead, and there isn't anybody in the whole world to love him but a monkey!"
The door was open into Elsie's room. She heard what he said, and in a minute, she came pattering across the carpet in her little bare feet and climbed up on the bed beside me.
"Don't say that, brother," she begged, leaning over and kissing him. "Dago isn't the only one that loves you, 'cause there's me. Don't cry."
"But, oh," wailed Phil, "papa didn't say one word about my staying! He doesn't care if I run away. He never once asked me not to, and I believe he'll be glad when I'm gone, 'cause he can't bear to see Aunt Patricia worried, and everything I do seems to worry her. She says she doesn't understand boys, and I s'pose it's best for me to go. But I don't want to. Aow, I don't want to!"
By this time he had worked himself up into such a spasm of crying that he could not stop, for all little Elsie's begging. She wiped his eyes on the sheet with her little dimpled hands, and kissed him a dozen times. Then I think she must have grown frightened at his sobs, for she slipped off the bed to the floor, "I'll tell papa that you don't want to go," she said, trailing out of the room in her long white nightgown. She had to hold it up in front to keep from tripping, and her little bare feet went patter, patter, down the long stairs to the library. Wondering what would happen next, I followed her into the hall, and swung by my tail over the banister.
Doctor Tremont was sitting in a big armchair before the fire, with his head in his hands. He looked very much troubled over something. She opened the door, and ran up to him.
"Why, Elsie, child, what is the matter?" he cried, catching her in his arms. "What do you mean by running around the house in your nightgown? Doesn't my little daughter know that it will make her cough worse, and maybe make her very, very ill?"