RICO'S MOTHER
The teacher was coming down the path from Sils, leaning heavily on his
cane. He came directly from the funeral of Rico's father. He was
coughing and panting as he greeted the grandmother, and he sank
heavily to the seat beside her.
"If you are willing," he said, "I will rest here a few moments. My
throat troubles me, and my chest is very weak. Of course, now that I
am seventy years old I must expect such things. What a pity that a man
of such powerful strength as the Italian must give up life! He was not
yet thirty-five years old."
"Yes," said the grandmother, "I, too, have been thinking how much
better I might have been spared than he."
"I know how you feel," replied the teacher, "but I suppose the older
people have their place in life to fill as well as the younger ones.
Where would they find precept and example but for us? What will become
of the boy yonder?"
"What will become of him?" repeated the grandmother. "I have been
asking the same question, and I cannot tell you. I only know that
there is a Heavenly Father whom he still has, and he will doubtless
find a place for the homeless one."
"Tell me, neighbor, how it ever happened that an Italian should get a
wife up here. There is no knowing what those strangers are."
"I will tell you about them," said the grandmother. "You remember that
the girl's mother had lost her husband and several children, leaving
her only this one daughter. She was a charming maiden, with whom the
mother lived for years alone. I think that it is about twelve years
since the handsome young Trevillo first came here. He had joined a
group of men who were working on the Maloja. It was a case of love at
first sight with the young people. I am glad to be able to say that
Trevillo was not only a very handsome man but also very capable. The
mother was proud of her son-in-law and wanted them to remain with her.
They meant to do as she wished, but the daughter had a longing to see
the place that Trevillo described to her when they walked up the
Maloja. The mother objected strongly at first, but when she heard that
Trevillo owned a house and farm, having left it simply to see
something of the hills, she gave her consent and they moved away. She
heard from them regularly through the mail, but the daughter preferred
to remain in the new home, where they were very happy.
"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.