belonged to the old Mother Superior of the convent, and many a bright
morning she had seen it out in the garden as she sat at her desk in the
schoolroom above.

She looked at the white pillow half expecting to see the old wrinkled
face of Mother Cecelia, but instead Captain Riccardi looked up at her
and smiled.

"See, I've found you at last," he said, as Lathrop pushed the bed
beside Lucia's chair. "I was beginning to think that you were just a
dream child, and that I had imagined about the milk."

Lucia laughed gayly.

"No, Captain, that was not a dream, or I hope it wasn't, for if the
milk was not real then I dreamed about the pennies, and the sick
soldiers never got them."

"Sick soldiers! Did you give away the money?"

"Oh yes, sir, how could I keep it? I did not know you were a Captain,
I thought--"

"You thought I was just a poor soldier, eh?"

"Well, yes, if you will excuse me for saying so, I did, but anyway I
would not have kept the money."

"Why not?"