All to-day he had been reading Plutarch.

The enthusiasm with which he spoke of these old heroes and their deeds went beyond mere boyish admiration of valour and delight in bloodshed; he seemed to be strongly sensible of the real features of greatness in these men's lives, and invested his stories with a glow of poetical colour which found little appreciation in either of his hearers.
"And I was born in Rome, wasn't I, uncle ?" he exclaimed at last.

"_I_ am a Roman; _Romanus sum_!" Then he laughed with his wonted bright gleefulness.

It was half in jest, but for all that there was a genuine warmth on his cheek, and lustre in his fine eyes.
"Some day I will go to Rome again," he said, "and both of you shall go with me.

We shall see the Forum and the Capitol! Sha'n't you shout when you see the Capitol, uncle ?" Poor Smales only smiled sadly and shook his head.