manner was uncomprehending but patient. '_Si_,
signore, I have eight sister.'

'Eight! Merciful saints. How do you manage to be so cheerful?'

'Tree is married, signore, one uvver is betrofed, one is in a convent,
one is dead, and two is babies.'

'I see--they're pretty well disposed of; but the babies will grow up,
Gustavo, and as for that betrothed one, I should still be a little
nervous if I were you; you can never be sure they are going to stay
betrothed. I hope she doesn't spend her time chasing over the map of
Europe making appointments with you to meet her in unheard of little
mountain villages where the only approach to Christian reading matter is
a Paris _Herald_ four days old, and then doesn't turn up to keep her
appointments?'

Gustavo blinked. His supple back achieved another bow.

'Sank you,' he murmured.

'And you don't happen to have an aunt?'

'An aunt, signore?' There was vagueness in his tone.

'Yes, Gustavo, an aunt. A female relative who reads you like an open
book, who sees your faults and skips your virtues, who remembers how
dear and good and obliging your father was at your age, who hoped great
things of you when you were a baby, who had intended to make you her heir
but has about decided to endow an orphan asylum--have you, Gustavo, by
chance an aunt?'

'_Si_, signore.'

'I do not think you grasp my question. An _aunt_--the sister of your
father, or perhaps your mother.'

A gleam of illumination swept over Gustavo's troubled features.

'_Ecco_! You would know if I haf a _zia_--a aunt--yes, zat is it. A aunt.
_Sicuramente_, signore, I haf ten--leven aunt.'

'Eleven aunts! Before such a tragedy I am speechless; you need say no
more, Gustavo, from this moment we are friends.'

He held out his hand. Gustavo regarded it dazedly; then, since it seemed
to be expected, he gingerly presented his own. The result was a shining
newly-minted two-lire piece. He pocketed it with a fresh succession of
bows.

'_Grazie tanto_! Has ze signore need of anysing?'

'Have I need of anysing?' There was reproach, indignation, disgust in the
young man's tone. 'How can you ask such a question, Gustavo? Here am I,
three days in Valedolmo, with seven more stretching before me. I have
plenty of towels and soap and soft-boiled eggs, if that is what you
mean; but a man's spirit cannot be nourished on soap and soft-boiled
eggs. What I need is food for the mind--diversion, distraction,
amusement--no, Gustavo,