"But don't forget that there is still a possibility of recuperation; while there's life there's hope."
"True! and I will let them hope on as long as they can."
The doctor passed on to another patient, and Harold was again left to the companionship of his own thoughts. But not for long; they were presently broken in upon by the appearance of May with a very bright face.
"See!" she cried joyously, holding up a package; "letters from home, and Naples too. Rose writes to mamma, and she has enclosed the letter for our benefit."
"Then let us enjoy it together. Sit here and read it to me; will you? My eyes are rather weak, you know, and I see the ink is pale."
"But mamma's note to you?"
"Can wait its turn. I always like to keep the best till the last."
Harold hardly acknowledged to himself that he was very eager to hear news from Elsie; even more than to read the loving words from his mother's pen.
"Very well, then; there seems to be no secret," said May, glancing over the contents; and seating herself by his side she began.
After speaking of some other matters, Rose went on: "But I have kept my greatest piece till now. Our family is growing; we have another grandson who arrived about two weeks ago; Harold Allison Travilla by name.