dragged him swiftly along the street.

`Wait and thou shalt see,' she answered shortly;
`and do thou mind thy manners, else will I mind
them for thee.'

Filippo ran along a little quicker on hearing this
advice. He had but a dim notion of what minding
his manners might mean, but he guessed fairly well
what would happen if his aunt minded them. Ah!
here they were at the great square of the Carmine.
He had often crept into the church to get warm and
to see those wonderful pictures on the walls. Could
they be going there now?

But it was towards the convent door that Mona
Lapaccia bent her steps, and, when she had rung the
bell, she gave Filippo's shoulder a final shake, and
pulled his coat straight and smoothed his hair.

A fat, good-natured brother let them in, and led
them through the many passages into a room where
the prior sat finishing his midday meal.

Filippo's hungry eyes were immediately fixed on
a piece of bread which lay upon the table, and
the kindly prior smiled as he nodded his head
towards it.

Not another invitation did Filippo need; like a