She looked at me wistfully. After a minute or two she said, gently:
“Kiss me, then, and I will be quite good.”
I kissed her fondly, and she closed her eyes. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed and she did not stir. At the end of that time the doctor entered. He glanced at her, gave me a warning look, and remained standing quietly at the foot of the bed. Suddenly the child woke, and smiled divinely on all three of us.
“Are you in pain, my dear?” I softly asked.
“No!” she answered in a tiny voice, so faint and far away that we held our breath to listen to it; “I am quite well now. Assunta must dress me in my white frock again now papa is here. I knew he would come back!”
And she turned her eyes upon me with a look of bright intelligence.
“Her brain wanders,” said the doctor, in a low, pitying voice; “it will soon be over.”
Stella did not hear him; she turned and nestled in my arms, asking in a sort of babbling whisper:
“You did not go away because I was naughty, did you, papa?”
“No darling!” I answered, hiding my face in her curls.