'The position of a trained servant is a much higher one than he would ever fill if left to himself. He is only a peasant child, my dear.'
'He is a psychological problem,' she declared. 'I am going to prove that environment is everything and heredity's nothing, and I shan't have him dressed in livery. I found him, and he's mine--at least half mine.'
She glanced across at Sybert and he nodded approval.
'I will turn my share of the authority over to you, Miss Marcia, since it appears to be in such good hands.'
'Marcia shall have her way,' said Mr. Copley. 'We'll let Gervasio be an unofficial page and postpone the question of livery for the present.'
'He can play with Gerald,' she suggested. 'We were wishing the other night that he had some one to play with, and Gervasio will be just the person; it will be good for his Italian.'
'I suspect that Gervasio's Italian may not be useful for drawing-room purposes,' her uncle laughed.
'I shall send him to college,' she added, her mind running ahead of present difficulties, 'and prove that peasants are really as bright as princes, if they have the same chance. He'll turn out a genius like--like Crispi.'
'Heaven forbid!' exclaimed Sybert, but he examined Marcia with a new interest in his eyes.
'We can decide on the young man's career later,' Copley suggested. 'He seems to be embarrassed by these personalities.'
Gervasio, with all these august eyes upon him, was on the point of breaking out into one of his old-time wails when Mrs. Copley fortunately diverted the attention by inquiring if they had dined.
'Neither Mr. Sybert nor I have had any dinner,' Marcia returned, 'and I shouldn't be surprised if Gervasio has missed several. But Marcellus, under the chair there, has had his,' she added.
Mrs. Copley recalling her duties as hostess, a jangling of bells ensued. Pietro appeared, and stared at Gervasio with as much astonishment as is compatible with the office of butler. Mrs. Copley ordered dinner for two in the dining-room and for one in the kitchen, and turned the boy over to Pietro's care.
'Oh, let's have him eat with us, just for to-night.' Marcia pleaded. 'You don't mind, do you, Mr. Sybert? He's so hungry; I love to watch hungry little boys eat.'