"I had better go now," he said when the passage
had been cleared up; "unless you want me for
anything."

"I don't want to work any more, but I should
like you to stay a bit if you have time."

"Oh, yes!" He leaned back against the tree-trunk
and looked up through the dusky branches
at the first faint stars glimmering in a quiet sky.
The dreamy, mystical eyes, deep blue under black
lashes, were an inheritance from his Cornish
mother, and Montanelli turned his head away, that
he might not see them.

"You are looking tired, carino," he said.

"I can't help it." There was a weary sound
in Arthur's voice, and the Padre noticed it at
once.

"You should not have gone up to college so
soon; you were tired out with sick-nursing and
being up at night. I ought to have insisted on
your taking a thorough rest before you left
Leghorn."

"Oh, Padre, what's the use of that? I couldn't
stop in that miserable house after mother died.