ON the second day after Mrs. Gaston was stricken a forlorn little boy sat in the kitchen watching Aunt Eve get supper. He saw her nod while she worked the dough for the biscuits.
"Aunt Eve, I'm going to sit up to-night and every night with my Mama, 'till she gets well. I can't sleep for hours and hours. I lie awake and cry when I hear her talking 'till I feel like I'll die. I must do something to help her."
"Laws, honey, you'se too little. You can't keep 'wake 'tall. You get so lonesome and skeered all by yerself."
"I don't care, I've told Tom to wake me to-night if I'm asleep when he goes, and I'll sit up from twelve 'till two o'clock and then call you."
"All right, Mammy's darlin' boy, but you git tired en can't stan' it."
So that night at midnight he took his place by the bedside. His mother was sleeping, at first. He sat and gazed with aching heart at her still, white face. She stirred, opened her eyes, saw him, and imagined he was his father.
"Dearie, I knew you would come," she murmured. "They told me you were dead; but I knew better. What a long, long time you have been away. How brown the sun has tanned your face, but it's just as handsome. I
