The first was hardly ended before one after the other five little heads popped out of a window farther down the balcony; and presently a group of pretty children were listening and smiling as the nice boy played and sang to them. A gentleman looked out; and a lady evidently listened, for the end of a lace flounce lay on the threshold of the long window, and a pair of white hands clapped when he finished a gay air in his best style. This was his first taste of applause, and he liked it, and twanged away merrily till his master’s voice called him in just as he was beginning to answer the questions the eager children asked him. "Go and dress! I shall take you down to dinner with me presently. But mind this, _I_ will answer questions; do _you_ keep quiet, and leave me to tell what I think best. Remember, or I pack you home at once." Tino promised, and was soon absorbed in getting into his new clothes; Luigi came to help him, and when he was finished off, a very handsome lad emerged from the closet to make his best bow to his master, who, also in fine array, surveyed him with entire approval. "Very good! I thought you would make a passable butterfly when you shed your grub’s skin. Stand up and keep your hands out of your pockets. Mind what I told you about supping soup noisily, and don’t handle your fork like a shovel. See what others do, smile, and hold your tongue. There is the gong. Let us go." Tino’s heart beat as he followed Mario down the long hall to the great _salle à manger_ with its glittering _table d’hôte_ and many guests. But the consciousness of new clothes sustained him, so he held up his head, turned out his toes, and took his place, trying to look as if everything was not very new and dazzling to him. Two elderly ladies sat opposite, and he heard one say to the other in bad Italian, "Behold the lovely boy, Maria; I should like to paint him." And the other answered, "We will be amiable to him, and perhaps we may get him for a model. Just what I want for a little Saint John." Tino smiled at them till his black eyes sparkled and his white teeth shone, for he understood and enjoyed their praise. The artistic ladies smiled back, and watched him with interest long after he had forgotten them, for that dinner was a serious affair to the boy, with a heavy silver spoon and fork to manage, a napkin to unfold, and three glasses to steer clear of for fear of a general upset, so awkward did he feel. Every one else was too busy to mind his mistakes; and the ladies set them down to bashfulness, as he got red in the face, and dared not look up after spilling his soup and dropping a roll. Presently, while waiting for dessert, he forgot himself in something Mario was saying to his neighbor on the other side:--