"I say, "no, Meestair Ailyar, she stay all ze time in ze courtyard talking wif ze parrot, and she was ver" moch shocked at his Angleesh"."
"Ah!" Constance smiled and laid the lira on the table. "Gustavo," she said, "I hope, for the sake of your immortal soul, that you go often to confession."
The eggs were not heavy, but Gustavo insisted upon carrying them; he was determined to see her safely aboard the _Farfalla_, with no further accidents possible. That she had not identified the young man of the garden with the donkey-driver of yesterday was clear--though how such blindness was possible, was not clear. Probably she had only caught a glimpse of his back at a distance; in any case he thanked a merciful Providence and decided to risk no further chance. As they neared the end of the arbor, Gustavo was talking--shouting fairly; their approach was heralded.
They turned into the grove. To Gustavo"s horror the most conspicuous object in it was this same reckless young man, seated on the water-wall nonchalantly smoking a cigarette. The young man rose and bowed; Constance nodded carelessly, while Gustavo behind her back made frantic signs for him to flee, to escape while still there was time. The young man telegraphed back by the same sign language that there was no danger; she didn"t suspect the truth. And to Gustavo"s amazement, he fell in beside them and strolled over to the water steps. His recklessness was catching; Gustavo suddenly determined upon a bold stroke himself.
"Signorina," he asked, "zat man I send, zat donk" driver--you like heem?"
"Tony?" Her manner was indifferent. "Oh, he does well enough; he seems honest and truthful, though a little stupid."
Gustavo and the young man exchanged glances.
"And Gustavo," she turned to him with a sweetly serious air that admitted no manner of doubt but that she was in earnest. "I told this young man that in case he cared to do any mountain climbing, you would find him the same guide. It would be very useful for him to have one who speaks English."
Gustavo bowed in mute acquiescence. He could find no adequate words for the situation.
The boat drew alongside and Constance stepped in, but she did not sit down. Her attention was attracted by two washer-women who had come clattering on to the little rustic bridge that spanned the stream above the water steps. The women, their baskets of linen on their heads, had paused to watch the embarkation.
"Ah, Gustavo," Constance asked over her shoulder, "is there a washer-woman here at the Hotel du Lac named Costantina?"
"_Si_, signorina, zat is Costantina standing on ze bridge wif ze yellow handkerchief on her head."
Constance looked at Costantina, and nodded and smiled. Then she laughed out loud, a beautiful rippling, joyous laugh that rang through the grove and silenced the chaffinches.
Perhaps once upon a time Costantina was beautiful--beautiful as the angels--but if so, it was long, long ago. Now she was old and fat with a hawk nose and a double chin and one tooth left in the middle of the front. But if she were not beautiful, she was at least a cheerful old soul, and, though she could not possibly know the reason, she echoed the signorina"s laugh until she nearly shook the clean clothes into the water.
Constance settled herself among the cushions and glanced back toward the terrace.
"Good afternoon," she nodded politely to the young man.
He bowed with his hand on his heart.
"_Addio_, Gustavo."
He bowed until his napkin swept the ground.
"_Addio_, Costantina," she waved her hand toward her namesake.
The washer-woman laughed again and her earrings flashed in the sunlight.
Giuseppe raised the yellow sail; they caught the breeze, and the _Farfalla_ floated away.
CHAPTER X
Half past six on Friday morning and Constance appeared on the terrace; Constance in fluffy, billowy, lacy white with a spray of oleander in her belt--the last costume in the world in which one would start on a mountain climb. She cast a glance in pa.s.sing toward the gateway and the stretch of road visible beyond, but both were empty, and seating herself on the parapet, she turned her attention to the lake. The breeze that blew from the farther sh.o.r.e brought fresh Alpine odors of flowers and pine trees. Constance sniffed it eagerly as she gazed across toward the purple outline of Monte Maggiore. The serenity of her smile gradually gave place to doubt; she turned and glanced back toward the house, visibly changing her mind.
But before the change was finished, the quiet of the morning was broken by a clatter of tiny scrambling obstinate hoofs and a series of e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, both Latin and English. She glanced toward the gate where Fidilini was visible, plainly determined not to come in. Constance laughed expectantly and turned back to the water, her eyes intent on the fishing-smacks that were putting out from the little _marino_. The sounds of coercion increased; a command floated down the driveway in the English tongue. It sounded like:
"You twist his tail, Beppo, while I pull."
Apparently it was understood in spite of Beppo"s slight knowledge of the language. An eloquent silence followed; then an outraged grunt on the part of Fidilini, and the cavalcade advanced with a rush to the kitchen door. Tony left Beppo and the donkeys, and crossed the terrace alone. His bow swept the ground in the deferential manner of Gustavo, but his glance was far bolder than a donkey-driver"s should have been. She noted the fact and tossed him a nod of marked condescension. A silence followed during which Constance studied the lake; when she turned back, she found Tony arranging a spray of oleander that had dropped from her belt in the band of his hat. She viewed this performance in silent disfavor. Having finished to his satisfaction, he tossed the hat aside and seated himself on the bal.u.s.trade. Her frown became visible. Tony sprang to his feet with an air of anxiety.
"_Scusi_, signorina. I have not meant to be presumptious. Perhaps it is not fitting that anyone below the rank of lieutenant should sit in your presence?"
"It will not be very long, Tony, before you are discharged for impertinence."
"Ah, signorina, do not say that! If it is your wish I will kneel when I address you. My family, signorina, are poor; they need the four francs which you so munificently pay."
"You told me that you were an orphan; that you had no family."
"I mean the family which I hope to have. Costantina has extravagant tastes and coral earrings cost two-fifty a pair."
Constance laughed and a.s.sumed a more lenient air. She made a slight gesture which might be interpreted as an invitation to sit down; and Tony accepted it.
"By the way, Tony, how do you talk to Costantina, since she speaks no English and you no Italian?"
"We have no need of either Italian or English; the language of love, signorina, is universal."
"Oh!" she laughed again. "I was at the Hotel du Lac yesterday; I saw Costantina."
"You saw Costantina!--Ah, signorina, is she not beautiful? Ze mos"
beautiful in all ze world? But ver" unkind signorina. Yes, she laugh at me; she smile at ozzer men, at soldiers wif uniforms." He sighed profoundly. "But I love her just ze same, always from ze first moment I see her. It was washday, signorina, by ze lac. I climb over ze wall and talk wif her, but she make fun of me--ver" unkind. I go away ver" sad. No use, I say, she like dose soldiers best. But I see her again; I hear her laugh--it sound like angels singing--I say, no, I can not go away; I stay here and make her love me. Yes, I do everysing she ask--but everysing! I wear earrings; I make myself into a fool just to please zat Costantina."
He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. A slow red flush crept over Constance"s face and she turned her head away and looked across the water.
Mr. Wilder, in full Alpine regalia, stepped out upon the terrace and viewed the beauty of the morning with a prophetic eye. Miss Hazel followed in his wake; she wore a lavender dimity. And suddenly it occurred to Tony"s slow moving masculine perception that neither lavender dimity nor white muslin were fabrics fit for mountain climbing.
Constance slipped down from her parapet and hurried to meet them.
"Good-morning, Aunt Hazel. Morning, Dad! You look beautiful! There"s nothing so becoming to a man as knickerbockers--especially if he"s a little stout.--You"re late," she added with a touch of severity.
"Breakfast has been waiting half an hour and Tony fifteen minutes."
She turned back toward the donkey-man who was standing, hat in hand, respectfully waiting orders. "Oh, Tony, I forgot to tell you; we shall not need Beppo and the donkeys to-day. You and my father are going alone."
"You no want to climb Monte Maggiore--ver" beautiful mountain." There was disappointment, reproach, rebellion in his tone.
"We have made inquiries and my aunt thinks it too long a trip. Without the donkeys you can cross by boat, and that cuts off three miles."
"As you please, signorina." He turned away.
Constance looked after him with a shade of remorse. When this plan of sending her father and Tony alone had occurred to her as she sailed homeward yesterday from the Hotel du Lac, it had seemed a humorous and fitting retribution. The young man had been just a trifle too sure of her interest; the episode of the hotel register must not go unpunished.
But--it was a beautiful morning, a long empty day stretched before her, and Monte Maggiore looked alluring; there was no pursuit, for the moment, which she enjoyed as much as donkey-riding. Oh yes, she was spiting herself as well as Tony; but considering the circ.u.mstances the sacrifice seemed necessary.
When the _Farfalla_ drifted up ready to take the mountain-climbers, Miss Hazel suggested (Constance possessed to a large degree the diplomatic faculty of making other people propose what she herself had decided on) that she and her niece cross with them. Tony was sulky and Constance could not forego the pleasure of baiting him further.