THE BLODGETT READERS

BY GRADES

BOOK FIVE

ON THE ROAD TO TURIN

HENRY HARLAND

HENRY HARLAND (1861-1905) was an English novelist. This selection is adapted from The Cardinal's Snuff-Box.

NOTE. Peter Marchdale, an Englishman, has rented an Italian villa belonging to a charming young duchess. The following scene is quite independent of the rest of the story.

Peter was walking in the highroad on the further side. of the river the great highroad that leads from Bergamo to Milan.

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It was late in the afternoon, and already, in the west, the sky was beginning to put on some of its sunset splen- 10 dors. In the east, framed to Peter's vision by parallel lines of poplars, it hung like a curtain of dark blue velvet.

Far down the long, white road, against the blue velvet sky, between the poplars, two little spots of black, two small human figures, were moving toward him.

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As they came nearer they defined themselves as a boy and a girl. Nearer still, he saw that they were ragged and dusty and barefoot. The boy had three or four wicker baskets slung over his shoulder.

Vaguely Peter supposed that they were the children of some of the peasants, on their way home from the village. As they arrived abreast of him, they paid him the usual salute. The boy lifted his tattered felt hat from his head, the girl bobbed a courtesy, and "Good evening, Excel10 lency," they said in concert, without, however, pausing in their march.

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Peter put his hand into his pocket.

"Here, little girl," he called.

The little girl glanced at him, doubting.

"Come here," he said.

Her face a question, she came up to him; and he gave her a few coppers.

"To buy sweetmeats," he said.

"A thousand thanks, Excellency," said she, bobbing 20 another courtesy.

"A thousand thanks, Excellency," said the boy, from his distance, again lifting his rag of a hat.

And they trudged on.

But Peter looked after them, and his heart smote him. 25 They were clearly of the poorest of the poor. He thought

of Hansel and Gretel. Why had he given them so little? He called to them to stop.

The little girl came running back.

"You may as well buy some ribbons too," said Peter, and gave her a couple of lire.

She looked at the money with surprise.

even with

an appearance of hesitation. Plainly, it was a sum in her eyes.

"It's all right. Run along," said Peter.

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"A thousand thanks, Excellency," said she, with a 10 third courtesy, and rejoined her brother. . . .

"Where are they going?" asked a voice.

Peter faced about.

There stood the duchess in a bicycling costume, with her bicycle beside her.

"Where are they going?" she repeated, trouble in her voice and eyes.

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"The children?" said Peter. "I don't know - I did n't ask. Home, are n't they?"

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"Home? Oh, no. They don't live hereabouts," she 20 said. "I know all the little ones of this neighborhood. Children! children!" she cried.

But they were quite a hundred yards away and did not hear.

"Do you wish them to come back?" asked Peter.

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