"Oh, dear, I shall have to copy it out now," she says, in a mortified tone.
"You can copy it this evening. Bring it here, and let me look at it…Not bad,—not bad at all. A few letters to be added, and a few to be taken out; but, on the whole, for a chit of your size, it's fairly creditable. Good girl!"
Doretta rests upon her laurels, playing with her doll Nini. She dresses
Nini in her best gown, and takes her to call on the cat, Melanio.
The cat, Melanio, who is dozing with half-open eyes, is somewhat bored by these attentions. Raising himself on his four paws, he arches his flexible body, and then rolls himself up into a ball, turning his back upon his visitor.
"Dear me, Melanio is not very polite to-day," says Doretta, escorting the doll back to the sofa. "But you mustn't be offended; he's very seldom impolite. I think it must be the weather; doesn't the weather make you sleepy too, Nini? …Come, let's take a nap; go by-bye, baby, go by-bye."
Nini sleeps. Her head rests upon a cushion, her little rag and horse-hair body is wrapped in a woollen coverlet, her lids are closed; for Nini raises or lowers her lids according to the position of her body.
Signor Odoardo looks at the clock and then glances out of the window.
It is two o'clock and the snow is still falling.
Doretta is struck by another idea.
"Daddy, see if I know my La Fontaine fable: Le corbeau et le renard."
"Very well, let's hear it," Signor Odoardo assents, taking the open book from the little girl's hands.