THE STORY OF A PICTURE.

 "BBut this is so very like the trees-so very like."
 And she looked admiringly at it. "But tell me,
 Pietro, have you seen Leo ?"
 "Yes, I was with him some time ago by the
 stream."
 "And you did not see him since then ?"
 "No, not since then. Have you been looking for
 him ?"<
 "IHe has been looking for you, Pietro."
 "Ah he wants to discover my secret," cried tho
 boy, forgetting that the child was beside him.
 "Your secret, Pietro; oh then he spoke of you,
 when he told me that one of his friends had concealed
 something for a whole month. I thought he meant
 you.,)
 How could you guess that ?" he asked quickly.
 Oh! I don't know what put it in my head,"
 she answered, laughing, "but you see I can guess,
 can't I ?"
 "Indeed you can, Maria; but why should you think
 of me more than any one else."
 "Well, for one thing," she returned, in a graver
 tone than usual, "Leo likes you far better than any
 one else he knows. He is always talking about you
 at home; and to-night, when I met him in the meadow,
 he said that he was going to see you for two minutes
 in the plantation, and then he began about a friend
 of his and a secret. Of course I guessed 'twas
 you."
 "And if I told it to you, Maria, could you keep
it ?" And he looked up into the beautiful face bending
over him with far more anxiety about her reply than
the child thought he could feel.
 "'Do tell it to me, Pietro; no one shall know it;
not even Leonardo."