Indeed, I am quite happy."
His father coming and bending down to him, which he did quickly, Paul held
him round the neck and repeated those words to him several times and very
earnestly. This was the beginning of his always saying in the morning that
he was a great deal better, and that they were to tell his father so.
How many times the golden water danced on the wall; how many nights the
dark, dark river rolled away towards the sea in spite of him, Paul never
counted, never sought to know. If their kindness could have increased, or
his sense of it, they were more kind, and he more grateful every day; but
whether they were many days or few appeared of little moment now to the
gentle boy.
One night he had been thinking of his mother and her picture in the
drawing-room downstairs. The train of thought suggested to him to inquire
if he had ever seen his mother; for he could not remember whether they had
told him yes or no, the river running very fast and confusing his mind.
"Floy, did I ever see mama?"
"No, darling; why?"
"Did I ever see any kind face like mama's looking at me when I was a baby,
Floy?"
"Oh yes, dear."
"Whose, Floy?"
"Your old nurse's, often.
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