"How could I forget you, senorita; and the pictures, and your kindness! But I have left Venice, you see. Yes. Even now I am on my way to America." "To America? Oh, Giusippe, Giusippe! And that is why you have discarded your faded blouse, and the red tie which you wore knotted round your throat. Alas! I am almost sorry. And yet you look very nice," she added kindly. "But to leave Venice!" "It is best," Giusippe explained gently. "I have my way to make, and I can do it better in your country, my senorita." "Perhaps. Still, I am sorry to have you leave your home. It is like taking sea shells away from the sands of the shore." "And yet you would want me to be a man and succeed in life. Think how you yourself worked for success." "I know. And it was you who brought it to me, Giusippe. The portrait I painted of you was exhibited in America and when I later sold it to an art dealer there it brought me a little fortune; but the fame it brought was best of all." The girl put her hand softly on the lad's shoulder. "Oh, senorita, how glad I am!" "I had a feeling that you would bring me luck the morning when I first saw you in the square near St. Mark's. Do you remember? And how you stood watching me paint? Do you recall how we got to talking and how I asked if I might do the portrait of you? You laughed when I suggested it! And then you came to the hotel evenings when you were free, and I sketched in the picture. It seems but yesterday. In the meantime you entertained me by telling me of Venice and its history. What a little fellow you were to know so much!" The girl smiled down at him. "And now let me hear of yourself. What of your parents?" "Alas, senorita, they have died. I am now quite alone in the world. It is for that that I felt I must leave Venice. It is sad to be alone, senorita." "So it is, Giusippe. No one knows that better than I." Impulsively she slipped a hand into the small Venetian's. "But I must not take you from your friends. See, we have kept them waiting a long time." "I want you to meet them, senorita. They are from your country, and they have been kind to me." "Then surely I must meet them." With a shy gesture the boy led her forward. "Miss Cartright is from New York, Mr. Cabot," said Giusippe simply. "Long ago when I was a little lad I knew her in Venice, and she was good to me and to my parents." [Illustration: "I KNEW HER IN VENICE"] "It was five years ago," added Miss Cartright. "I went there to paint." "And little Giusippe, perhaps, made your stay as delightful as he has made ours," Mr. Cabot said. "Yes. I was all by myself, and knew no one in Venice. Furthermore, I spoke only a word or two of Italian. Giusippe was a great comfort. He kept me from being lonesome." "And you are now staying in Paris?" questioned Mr. Cabot. "Yes, I have been here with friends studying for nearly a year; but I am soon to return home. And now, before I leave you, I want to hear all about Giusippe's plans. What is he to do?"