"Then you know how lively Richard is, and I think their being with us has made Marion come out of his shell."
"When he's pleasant I should think he might be very good company. But Mademoiselle Potin has been telling me about him, and I should think he has had good reason to feel a little melancholy."
"There," thought Irma, "I won't let another day pass without finding out from Aunt Caroline what it is that every one else knows about Marion, that makes him seem an object of sympathy."
Meanwhile Marion had approached the girls.
"Of course you both have some story to account for the pigeons, and each story is probably different."
"I have no story, except that they are regarded as almost sacred, and it would be a great sin for any one to kill them."
"To be caught killing them," interposed Marion, "but I have an idea that many a pigeon pie in Venice is indebted to these same pigeons of St. Mark's. But if you have nothing better, I will tell my story. It is simply that some carrier pigeons brought good news to Enrico Dandolo, the Crusader, when he was besieging Candia, and since that time these pigeons and their descendants have been under the special protection of the city."
"It is certainly great fun to feed them," said Muriel, "and if you come here often, you'll see all kinds of people doing it,—old and young, rich and poor. Why, I have seen a man sit for an hour by that pillar, feeding them."