"What will the infection matter to me if he dies?" she said; "I am not afraid to die."
"Think of the father and the children, Eva," I said; "If our mother and I should be seized next, what would they do?"
"Chriemhild will soon be old enough to take care of them," she said very calmly; "promise me, promise me, Elsè, or I will see him at once."
And I promised her, and she threw her arms around me, and kissed me. Then I went back to Fritz, leaving Eva chafing my mother's hands. It was of no avail, I thought, to try to keep her from contagion, now that she had held my hands in hers.
When I came again to Fritz's bed-side he was asleep! Bitterly I reproached myself; but what could I have done? He was asleep—sleeping quietly, with soft, even breathing. I had not courage to awake him; but I knelt down and implored the blessed Virgin and all the saints to have mercy on me and spare him. And they must have heard me; for, in spite of my failure in keeping the physician's orders, Fritz began to recover from that very sleep.
Our grandmother says it was a miracle; "unless," she added, "the doctor was wrong!"
He awoke from that sleep refreshed and calm, but weak as an infant.
It was delightful to meet his eyes when first he awoke, with the look of quiet recognition in them, instead of that wild, fixed stare, or that restless wandering; to look once more into his heart through his eyes. He looked at me a long time with a quiet content, without speaking, and then he said, holding out his hand to me,—
"Elsè, you have been watching long here. You look tired; go and rest."
"It rests me best to look at you," I said, "and see you better."