Supper at the Rudinis consisted of boiled spaghetti, black bread and
cheese, with a cup full of milk apiece. It was not a very tempting
meal, but Lucia was hungry and ate with a hearty appetite.

After the three bowls had been washed and put away in the cupboard, she
helped her grandmother undress, and settled her comfortably in the
green enameled bed with its brass trimmings, that occupied a good part
of the small room. Lucia's mother had brought it with her from Naples,
and it was the most cherished and admired article of furniture that the
Rudinis owned.

"Are you comfortable, Nana?" Lucia inquired gently, as she smoothed the
fat, hard pillows in an attempt to make a rest for the old gray head.

"Yes, go to bed, child," Nana replied, and without more ado she closed
her eyes and went to sleep.

Lucia climbed up the ladder to the loft, and was soon cuddled down
beside Beppi in a bed of fresh straw. Though she persisted in her
determination that her grandmother sleep in state in the best bed, she
herself preferred a simple and softer resting place.

"Tell me a story," Beppi demanded; "not about fairies and silly make
believes, but about soldiers."

"But there are no pretty stories about soldiers, Beppino mio," Lucia
protested.

"Who wants pretty stories!" Beppi replied scornfully. "_I_ don't--tell