Stevie did “try with all his might” for the next few days, and with such good results as to astonish all but his papa and mamma, who, as you know, were in the secret.  Eva confided to Kate that she thought Stevie was certainly like “the little girl with the curl,” for if when he was “bad he was horrid,” “when he was good he was very, very good;” and Mehitabel watched him closely, and hoped “he wasn’t sickening for measles or Italian fever.”

How long this unusual state of affairs would have lasted under usual circumstances is uncertain; but about a week after Stevie’s talk with his papa, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence were called suddenly to Naples on urgent business, and the children were left in Venice in the housekeeper’s care.  Mamma impressed upon her little son and daughters that they must be very good children and obey Mehitabel just as they would her; and when they were going, papa said to Stevie:  “Son, I want you to look after the girls and Mehitabel, and take care of them while I am away.  If anything happens, try to act as you think I would if I were here.”

“All right, I’ll take good care of ’em,” Stevie answered, feeling very proud to have papa say this before everybody, and winked hard to prevent the tears, that would come, from falling.  Then, as the gondola glided from the door, papa leaned over the side and waved his hand.  “Don’t forget the responsibilities, Steve,” he called out.

“I won’t forget—­sure,” returned Stevie, waving back; but when Kate asked what papa meant, he answered:  “It’s just something between papa and me—­nothing ’bout you,” with such a mysterious air that of course Kate immediately suspected a secret and entreated to be told.  This Stevie flatly refused to do, and they were on the verge of a quarrel when Mehitabel’s voice was heard calling them to come help her choose a dessert for their five-o’clock dinner.

Stevie found the next few days what he called “very trying.”  You see, by virtue of what his papa had said he considered himself the head of the family, and his feelings were continually ruffled by Mehitabel’s decided way of settling things without regard to his opinion.  The mornings were the hardest of all, when, in their mother’s absence, the children recited their lessons to Miss Higginson.  Mehitabel had her own ideas about the law and order that should be maintained, and Stevie’s indignant protests were quite wasted on her.

“You may do as you please when your pa and ma are home”—­she said very decidedly one morning, when Kate and Stevie told her that their mamma never expected them to stand through all the lessons nor to repeat every word as it was in the book—­“but when I’m head of the family you’ve got to do things my way, and I want every word of that lesson.”

“You’re just as cross as you can be,” fumed Kate, flouncing herself into a chair.

“And anyway you’re not the head of the family one bit,” commenced Stevie, warmly tossing back his curls and getting very red in the face.  “Papa said I—­”