"Come, my lad, and tell us something about yourself," said the duke in a tone surprisingly gentle for one who palpitated with wrath and vengeance. Tonin made his way slowly up the room, pausing at the duke's elbow, and raising his eyes just far enough to get a glimpse of his yellow lion on the table, directly before Giovanni Falier. "When did you do this?" inquired the master of the feast, indicating the ornament with his jewelled index finger. "To-night," admitted Tonin feebly. "Can you make other figures and objects?" "Yes, signor." "Where did you learn?" "From grandfather, signor." "I have been greatly surprised this evening, as also have been my guests, at sight of this--this decoration, and ahem--" "Now it's coming," thought Tonin in a panic. "Perhaps he'll put me in a dungeon." "I have sent it clear around the table so that every one might examine it closely, and we all agree about it. How should you like to make statues, lad,--nymphs, you know, and fairies--" "And goddesses like that one upstairs?" cried Tonin, his face alight with this unexpected turn of the conversation. "Yes." "Oh, oh! I'd rather make a goddess like that than to be a king, or _go to the carnival_!" A chorus of laughter greeted this outburst, and Tonin trembled with embarrassment and surprise. "Then you shall," the duke declared with a smile like April sunshine. "You must have worked pretty hard, harder than most boys ever do, to be able to make this," pointing to the lion; "and if you are willing to keep on working, you may learn to do great things. You shall go to Toretto, the sculptor who did the four pieces upstairs, and he will teach you to make statues as good. Shall you like it, my boy?" "Like it! Oh, signor, if I had a chance to learn anything so beautiful I'd work--I'd work--" A vision of the glistening goddess and her wordless grace came before him, causing something to spring up in his throat that choked him. Twice he tried to finish his eager speech, but the words did not come. He gave a quick, eloquent gesture of entreaty, and down went his face into his hands before them all. "A toast, a toast!" exclaimed the duke, springing to his feet with upraised glass. "We'll pledge in water, if you please, good people, for clear water and unspoiled childhood are the purest things of earth. Ladies and gentlemen, I offer you our little friend, Tonin Canova. May he work faithfully with his teacher day by day, and when he comes to manhood, may he be good and great and happy! God bless him!" Clink, clink, went the glasses. Tonin raised his head, and as he turned to withdraw, he whispered to the duke with a beaming smile,-- "I don't know any nice words to say, but maybe you'll tell all the people for me how a boy feels when he's too happy to laugh and too happy to cry."