s 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?"

Little by little the story was told. Mr. Cabot began it and continued
it until Giusippe, who thought him too modest, finished the tale.

"You see, senorita, Mr. Cabot, Miss Jean, and good Hannah will not
themselves tell you how kind they have been, so I myself must tell it,"
said the boy. "And now I go with them to find a position in America
that by hard work I may some time be able to repay them for their
goodness to me."

Miss Cartright nodded thoughtfully.

At last she said:

"If you should come to New York I want to see you, Giusippe. There
might be something I could do to help you. Anyway, I should want to
have a glimpse of you. And if you do not come and Mr. Cabot does,
perhaps, since he knows how fond of you I am and how much I am
interested in your welfare, he will come and tell me how you are
getting on."

She drew from her purse a card which she handed to the lad.

"Perhaps I'd better take it, Giusippe," Mr. Cabot said in a low tone.
"It might get lost."

Then there was a confusion of farewells, and the girl rejoined her
friends, who had gone through into the next room.

It was not until she was well out of ear-shot that any one spoke. Then
Jean, who had been silent throughout the entire interview, exclaimed:

"Oh, isn't she beautiful! Isn't she the very loveliest lady you ever
saw, Giusippe?"

And Giusippe, answering in voluble English mixed with Italian, extolled
not only the fairness but the goodness of his goddess.

Even Hannah agreed that the American girl was charming, but regretted
that she had not come from Boston instead of New York.

Uncle Bob alone was silent. Turning the white card in his fingers he
stood absently looking at the door through which Miss Ethel Cartright
had passed.

CHAPTER VI

UNCLE BOB AS STORY TELLER

Uncle Bob and his party remained in France several weeks, and during
that ti