"A number of years later, Trevillo came back to the mother, carrying a little boy. 'There, mother,' he said, as he held the boy for her to take, 'we have come back to you without Marie. She and the other baby were buried a few days ago, and we cannot bear to live without her down there. If you don't mind, we will stay here with you.' "It brought both happiness and sorrow to the mother. Rico was four years old and extremely lovable and good. He was a comfort to her and her last great pleasure, for she died a year later. People advised Trevillo to get the aunt to keep house for him and the boy, and thus they have lived ever since." "So that is their story!" remarked the teacher, when she had finished speaking. "I never could imagine how it came about. It is possible that some relative of Trevillo's may come to take the child." "Relatives!" said the grandmother, scornfully. "The aunt is a relative, and what does he get from her? Few enough kind words, I am sure." The teacher rose stiffly. "I am rapidly getting old, my friend," he said. "I feel my strength leaving me to such an extent that I can scarcely get about." "You should still feel young in comparison with me," said the grandmother, and she wondered at his feebleness as he walked away with slow, unsteady steps. CHAPTER VII A PRECIOUS LEGACY AND A PRECIOUS PRAYER The pleasant summer days were at hand. The grandmother did not forget Rico's loneliness, and she helped Stineli with the work as much as possible, so that she and Rico might play together. In the early days of September, when every one made an effort to stay out of doors for the last of the warm evenings, the teacher was forced to remain in the house, for he was growing weaker and coughed more and more. One morning, when he tried to rise as usual, he fell back upon his pillow, exhausted. This brought to his mind serious thoughts of how things would be left in case he died. He had lived among these mountain people all his life and loved both his home and his work, but he had no children, and his wife had been dead many years. The only one who lived with him was a faithful old servant. He had made no plans for disposing of his property. He loved his violin more than all his other possessions, and it grieved him to realize that the time was at hand when he must leave it. He remembered the day that Rico had been there and had held it so lovingly, and the desire came to him to leave it with the boy, so that it might always have the care it deserved. It seemed a shame that he must actually give away things for which he had worked so hard and cared so much. Many plans for disposing of them presented themselves, but each was put aside as he faced the grim messenger and realized that earthly things had served him all they could.