Won't you be good and try to please me ?" Then the little cripple fell to sobbing and kissing her, nestling in her arms with his curly head against her neck.
But in the end she comforted him, the never varying gentleness toward him which she showed would have soothed the most peevish invalid.
So at last she was able to feel that her sacrifice, of which they must always remain ignorant, would not be all in vain; Mirko appeared reconciled to his fate, and would certainly benefit by more healthy surroundings.

Instinct told her there would be no use even suggesting to her uncle that the child should stay with Mimo, the situation would have become an _impasse_ if the boy had held out, and between them they would have had only this forty pounds until Christmas--and then very little more--and the life of hand-to-mouth poverty would have gone on and on, while here were comfort and probable health, with a certainty of welfare, and education, and a competence in the future.

And who knows but Mirko might grow into a great artist one day! This possible picture she painted in glowing colors until the child's pathetic, dark eyes glistened with pleasure.
Then she became practical; they must change their lodging and find a better one.

But here Mimo interfered.

They were really very comfortable where they were, he urged, humble though it looked, and changing was unpleasant.