"It is the scarf he wore yesterday when he went up to take his first communion," she replied. "The Padre Lorenzo gave it to him. Alas! alas! how beautiful he looked, dressed in all his best, with new buckles in his shoes and this scarf tied over one shoulder! The little angels painted over the altar did not look more beautiful!"
"The Padre Lorenzo!" repeated Hugh Girdlestone. "He taught the child, you say, and loved him. Does he know this?"
"Yes, he knows it."
It was the man who replied. The woman had sunk down again upon the floor, and hidden her face.
"Has he been to see you since?"
"He sent a priest this morning to pray for the repose of our little one's soul."
"Humph!"
Tommaseo's quick Italian ear detected the shade of disapproval in his visitor's voice.
"The Padre Lorenzo is a saint," he said, eagerly. "All Rome flocks to hear him preach."
"Where is he to be found, amico?"