"Now, Silvio," she said, as she sat down by his bed, "I want to tell you something, so that you will never make such a fuss again. We have no more right to take Rico away from those people than they would have to take you away from me. How should you like never to see the garden again?" "I would come right home if they took me," was Silvio's valiant answer, but the illustration had served to quiet him, and he was soon tucked in his little bed and willing to go to sleep. It would be hard to tell just what passed in Rico's mind when he quietly left the house that night and went down to the bridge. "I know now that I am an orphan," he murmured, "and that there is no place that I can call home." He longed to stay on the bridge all night, for its sweet association with the past was his only comfort, but he knew that the landlady would become alarmed at his absence, so he forced himself away to his cheerless attic. He did not need a candle to find his way to the bed, and he much preferred not to see his surroundings. An eager desire to see Stineli possessed him. He meant to tell her how it comforted him to know that she cared for him. It was late in the night before he could quiet his thoughts for sleep. CHAPTER XV AN EMPHATIC APPEAL The matter, however, was not at all satisfactorily settled for Silvio. He understood that he must do without Rico for two days, but it wore upon his patience as the hours dragged along. He fretted and tossed about, wishing continually for Rico. Before the second day was over Mrs. Menotti's strength had been severely taxed. When Rico understood that he was really homeless, his thoughts turned to Stineli more than ever before. A new feeling of satisfaction came to him as he considered how much her friendship had meant to him and how much the future might mean if they could be again together as in days past. So continually had she been in his mind the last few days, that he had scarcely reached Silvio's side before he said, "Silvio, it seems to me as if no one could be quite happy without Stineli." "Mamma, I want Stineli," said Silvio, as he pulled himself to a sitting posture. "I want her to come to me because I can't have Rico, and he says that no one can be quite happy without her." Mrs. Menotti knew of whom they were speaking, for she had often heard Rico mention her during the years he had been with them. "Yes," she said, "it would be delightful if we could have her, but my little boy must not forget to be reasonable." "But we _can_ have her, mamma," broke in Silvio. "Rico knows where she is, and he can go to-morrow and bring her to us."