The little play recalled Marcia to her duty. With a shake of her head at matters in general, she gave them up, and turned her face toward Gervasio’s quarters. Bianca was on her knees before the boy, giving the last touches to his sailor tie, and she turned him slowly around for inspection. His appearance was even more promising than Marcia had hoped for. With his dark curls still damp from their unwonted ablutions, clad in one of Gerald’s baggiest sailor-suits of red linen with a rampant white collar and tie, except for his bare feet (which would not be forced into Gerald’s shoes) he might have been a little princeling himself, backed by a hundred noble ancestors. Marcia sank down on her knees beside him. ‘You little dear!’ she exclaimed as she kissed him. Gervasio was not used to caresses, and for a moment he drew back, his brown eyes growing wide with wonder. Then a smile broke over his face, and he reached out a timid hand and patted her confidingly on the cheek. She kissed him again in pure delight, and taking him by the hand, set out forthwith for the loggia. ‘_Ecco!_ my friends. Isn’t he beautiful?’ she demanded. Mr. Copley and Sybert sprang to their feet and came forward interestedly. ‘Who denies now that it’s clothes that make the man?’ ‘I can’t say but that he was as picturesque last night,’ her uncle returned; ‘but he’s undoubtedly cleaner this morning.’ ‘Where’s Gerald?’ asked Sybert. ‘Let’s see what he has to say of the new arrival.’ Gerald, who had but just discovered Marcellus, was delightedly romping in the garden with him, and was dragged away under protest and confronted with the stranger. He examined him in silence a moment and then remarked, ‘He’s got my cloves on.’ And suddenly, as a terrible idea dawned upon him, he burst out: ‘Is he a new bruvver? ‘Cause if he is you can take him away.’ ‘Oh, my dear!’ his mother remonstrated in horror. ‘He’s a little Italian boy.’ Gerald was visibly relieved. He examined Gervasio again from this new point of view. ‘I want to go wifout my shoes and socks,’ he declared. ‘Oh, but he’s going to wear shoes and socks, too, as soon we can get some to fit him,’ said Marcia. ‘Do you want to see my lizhyards?’ Gerald asked insinuatingly, suddenly making up his mind and pulling Gervasio by the sleeve. Gervasio backed away. ‘You must talk to him in Italian, Gerald,’ Sybert suggested. ‘He’s like Marietta: he doesn’t understand anything else. I should like to have another look at those lizards myself,’ he added. ‘Come on, Gervasio,’ and taking a boy by each hand, he strode off toward the fountain. Mrs Copley looked after them dubiously, but Marcia interposed, ‘He’s a dear little fellow, Aunt Katherine, and it will be good for Gerald to have some one to play with.’ ‘Marcia’s right, Katherine; it won’t hurt him any, and I doubt if the boy’s Italian is much worse than Bianca’s.’ * * * * *