ining in an easy-chair, I held Celestino's fragile form in my arms,
the wonderful eyes gazing into mine as I watched with emotions too deep
for words their ever-varying expression. Eugenio sat on an ottoman at my
feet, alternately reading aloud from Dante and pausing to observe me,
while Virginia was on the hearth-rug, happy in adorning her doll with
pieces of silk, beads and flowers.

Suddenly Eugenio said, "Does the signora remember in the narrative of
Dives and Lazarus how Lazarus was thankful for the crumbs that fell from
the rich man's table?"

I understood him, and hiding my face in Celestino's tendril-like curls,
I replied, "Yes, but I wonder whether he would have been hungry enough
to eat crumbs that he knew to be poisoned?"

He made no reply.

"Eugenio," I continued, "what are your plans for the future? Is it your
own desire to become a priest?"

This last word made him tremble. "I _once_ desired it," he
answered, "thinking it the most honorable position to which I could
aspire, and also my natural vocation. But now--God knows whether it be a
sin or not--I would pass through any affliction He might send rather
than become one. But my mother's heart is fixed upon it more than ever,
and soon my family will be wholly dependent upon me. Ah! young as I am,
I have suffered and still suffer. Far happier is that child in your
arms, dying slowly though it may be, than the unfortunate Eugenio."

"Have a care," I said, "lest, entering the state of priesthood, you bear
with you a heart fixed on the things of this world. Do not yield to the
impulses of a strong imagination, but endeavor to forget whatever might
prove a hindrance to you hereafter."

"Ah, Felicia, my heart is too full ever to forget. Celestino, my
brother, _thou_ art indeed happy. Dost thou know it?"

"Yes, Eugenio, I feel even too happy."

"God bless thee, Celestino! I love thee more than ever;" and, stealing
his brother's hand from mine, he gently kissed it, whilst Celestino
smiled on us with a heavenly smile.

It was arranged that I should accompany my father to the counting-house
of Eugenio Noele and strive to obtain some redress for the widow and
orphans, for I had always been a favorite with him, and my mother
imagined that my influence would have more power than her own. But the
only result of this interview was that Eugenio promised, for my sake, to
furnish his sister and her family with sufficient funds to enable them
to return to their o