doctor said that he must die very soon.

One afternoon they were all in the room with him. The windows were
wide open. His mother sat by his bed and the children on the floor
beside her; even Tasso was at home helping to take care of his little
brother. All was so still that you could hear poor Lolo's faint
breath, when--suddenly--there was a scampering and a pattering of
little feet on the stairs, and a white poodle dashed into the room and
jumped on the bed. It was Moufflou! but you would never have known
him, for he was so thin that you could count all his bones. His curls
were dirty and matted, and full of sticks and straws and burrs; his
feet were dusty and bleeding, and you could tell in a moment that he
had traveled a great many miles. When he jumped on the bed, Lolo
opened his eyes a little. He saw it was Moufflou, and laid one little
thin hand on the dog's head; then he turned on his pillow, closed his
eyes, and went quietly to sleep. Moufflou would not get off the bed,
and would eat nothing unless they brought it to him there. He only lay
close by his little master, with his brown eyes wide open, looking
straight into his face. By and by the doctor came, and said that Lolo
was really a little better, and that perhaps he might get well now.
The mother and Tasso were very glad indeed, but they knew that the
gentleman would come back for his dog, and they scarcely knew what to
do, nor what to say to him. Lolo grew a little stronger every day, and
at the end of a week a man came upstairs asking if Moufflou was there.
They had taken him a long way off, but he had run away from them one
day, and they had never been able to find him. Tasso asked the
messenger to let Moufflou stay until he had seen the gentleman, and he
took the money and put on his hat and went with him to the hotel. The
sick boy was in the room with his father, and Tasso went straight to
them and told them all about it: that Lolo nearly died without his