velvety depth.

"I suppose I am not to tell Nana that you left the house before sunrise
this morning," he said.

Lucia looked at him for a brief moment in startled surprise, then she
replied quickly, "No, that is not it at all. What harm would it do if
you told Nana? I am often up before sunrise."

"Yes, but you don't go to the mountains," Beppi interrupted. "Oh, I
saw you walking smack into the guns. What were you doing?" He dropped
his threatening tone, so incongruous with his tiny body, and coaxed
softly, "please tell me, sister mine."

"Silly head!" Lucia was breathing freely again, "there is nothing to
tell. I heard the guns all night, and they made me restless, so I went
for a walk. Go and tell Nana if you like, I don't care."

Beppi's small mind returned to the subject at hand.

"Then if it isn't that, what is it you want me to do?" he inquired, and
continued without giving his sister time to reply. "It's to take care
of them, I suppose," he grumbled, pointing a browned berry-stained
little finger at a herd of goats that were grazing contentedly a little
farther down the slope.

"Yes, that's it, and good care of them too," Lucia replied. "You are
not to go to sleep again, remember, and be sure and watch Garibaldi, or
she will stray away and get lost."