All at once a little urchin of about four or five summers stood on the doorstep.
"Gospa Milena," lisped the little child, "I've come to see you."
It had been a daring deed to wander all the way from home by himself, and he was rather frightened.
This child was the son of one of Mara's neighbours, whom Milena had of late made a pet of, and whom she had sometimes taken along with her when coming to her house.
Milena turned round and looked at the little child, that might well have been taken for an angel just alighted from heaven, for the slanting rays of the setting sun shining through his fair, dishevelled, curly locks seemed to form a kind of halo round his little head.
"Have you come all the way from home to see me?"
"Yes," said the child, staring at her to see whether she was cross.
"I've come for you to tell me a story."
Milena caught up the boy and covered him with kisses. She was about to ask him if he knew whether Uros had returned, but the question lingered for an instant on her lips; then she blushed, and feared to frame her thoughts in words. Anyhow, it was a very good excuse to shut up her house and take the little boy back home.
"Will you tell me a story?" persisted the urchin.
"Yes," said Milena, smiling, "for you must be tired and hungry, too."