Suddenly her glance fell on Assunta, whose gray head was buried in her hands as she knelt.
"Assunta!" The old woman looked up.
"Bambinetta!" she answered, and her aged voice trembled.
"Why are you crying ?" inquired Stella with an air of plaintive surprise.

"Are you not glad to see papa ?" Her words were interrupted by a sharp spasm of pain which convulsed her whole body--she gasped for breath--she was nearly suffocated.

Assunta and I raised her up gently and supported her against her pillows; the agony passed slowly, but left her little face white and rigid, while large drops of sweat gathered on her brow.

I endeavored to soothe her.
"Darling, you must not talk," I whispered, imploringly; "try to be very still--then the poor throat will not ache so much." 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.