The next minute the girl who was like Maria almost jumped. From among the rose-trees and palms she stood by, there came a strange little figure. It was a child dressed grandly, as if he belonged to the richest of the _forestieri_, but he had a beautiful little dark, rich-colored face and immense black eyes, and he looked at her only as one little peasant looks at another, and he spoke in the Italian only spoken by peasant children. “I am hungry,” he said. “I have had nothing to eat. Give me some of your bread.” The girl stared at him, bewildered. “Some bread!” she exclaimed; “do you live here?” “I live at Ceriani,” he said; “I am Piccino. The signora took me away. Give me some bread.” She broke off a big piece, still staring wildly. She had a vague idea that perhaps he would give her something for it. In her apron she had a piece of Salame sausage, well flavored with garlic, and she broke off a piece of that and gave it to him too. [Illustration: “THE GIRL STARED AT HIM”] Piccino seized it and devoured it. Never in his life had anything seemed so good to him. He ate like a little wolf, alternate bites of black bread and sausage. His face and hands became smeared and covered with grease, he clutched his Salame so hungrily and ate in such a hurry. “Don’t they feed you?” asked the girl. “They have lumps of raw meat, and I cannot eat their pasta,” said Piccino. It was in this guise mutton chops, oatmeal porridge, and rice pudding appeared to him. Mr. Gordon, who was one of the visitors, chanced to look out of the window. He put up his eyeglass suddenly. “Piccino is fraternizing with the little girl musician, Lady Aileen,” he said with a laugh, “and they are eating bread and sausage.” “Horrors!” exclaimed Lady Aileen. She sent Greggs out to bring him in at once. Greggs returned in a few minutes, bringing him, hanging back reluctantly, his cheeks and mouth glossy with sausage grease, and exhaling such fragrance that people became aware of him as he approached, and stepped aside, making a pathway. “Horrors!” said Lady Aileen again, “he _reeks_ with garlic! Take him away at once, Greggs. Take him to Nicholson and—and tell her to _wash_ him.”