Ashe. "The man promised to bring
me gloves at six o'clock, and I must be there to pay for them. Take
her down to the Lido, Ned. It's an exquisite evening for the water,
and the sunset promises to be delicious. You can take the time, can't
you, Katy?"
Katy could.
Mrs. Ashe turned to leave them, but suddenly stopped short.
"Katy, look! Isn't that a picture!"
The "picture" was Amy, who had come to the Piazza with Mrs. Swift, to
feed the doves of St. Mark's, which was one of her favorite amusements.
These pretty birds are the pets of all Venice, and so accustomed to
being fondled and made much of by strangers, that they are perfectly
tame. Amy, when her mother caught sight of her, was sitting on the
marble pavement, with one on her shoulder, two perched on the edge of
her lap, which was full of crumbs, and a flight of others circling round
her head. She was looking up and calling them in soft tones. The
sunlight caught the little downy curls on her head and made them
glitter. The flying doves lit on the pavement, and crowded round her,
their pearl and gray and rose-tinted and white feathers, their scarlet
feet and gold-ringed eyes, making a shifting confusion of colors, as
they hopped and fluttered and cooed about the little maid, unstartled
even by her clear laughter. Close by stood Nurse Swift, observant and
grimly pleased.
The mother looked on with happy tears in her eyes. "Oh, Katy, think
what she was a few weeks ago and look at her now! Can I ever be
thankful enough?"
She squeezed Katy's hand convulsively and walked away, turning her head
now and then for another glance at Amy and the doves; while Ned and Katy
silently crossed to the landing and got into a gondola.
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