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 passing 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 shore 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
ejaculations, 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 balustrade. 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 assumed 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 circumstances 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.
They put in at the village, on their way, for the morning mail; Mr.
Wilder wished his paper, even at the risk of not beginning the ascent
before the sun was high. Giuseppe brought back from the post, among other
matters, a letter for Constance. The address was in a dashing, angular
hand that pretty thoroughly covered the envelope. Had she not been so
intent on the writing herself, she would have noted Tony's astonished
stare as he passed it to her.
"Why!" she exclaimed, "here's a letter from Nannie Hilliard, postmarked
Lucerne."
"Lucerne!" Miss Hazel echoed her surprise. "I thought they were to be in
England for the summer?"
"They were--the last I heard." Constance ripped the letter open and read
it aloud.
[Illustration: "Constance ripped the letter open and read it aloud."]
"DEAR CONSTANCE: You'll doubtless be surprised to hear from us in
Switzerland instead of in England, and to learn further, that in
the course of a week, we shall arrive at Valedolmo en route for
the Dolomites. Jerry Junior at the last moment decided to come with
us, and you know what a _man_ is when it comes to European travel.
Instead of taking two months comfortably to England, as Aunt Kate
and I had planned, we did the whole of the British Isles in ten
days, and Holland and France at the same breathless rate.
"Jerry says he holds the record for the Louvre; he struck a
six-mile pace at the entrance, and by looking neither to the right
nor the left he did the whole building in forty-three minutes.
"You can imagine the exhausted state Aunt Kate and I are in after
travelling five weeks with him. We simply struck in Switzerland and
sent him on to Italy alone. I had hoped he would meet us in
Valedolmo, but we have been detained here longer than we expected,
and now he's rushed off again--where to, goodness only knows; we
don't.
"Anyway, Aunt Kate and I shall land in Valedolmo about the end of
the week. I am dying to see you; I have some beautiful news that's
too complicated to write. We've engaged rooms at the Hotel du
Lac--I hope it's decent; it's the only place starred in Baedeker.
"Aunt Kate wishes to be remembered to your father and Miss Hazel.
"Yours ever,
NAN HILLIARD.
"P. S. I'm awfully sorry not to bring Jerry; I know you'd adore
him."
She returned the letter to its envelope and looked up.
"Now isn't that abominable?" she demanded.
"Abominable!" Miss Hazel was scandalized. "My dear, I think it's
delightful."
"Oh, yes--I mean about Jerry Junior; I've been trying for six years to
get hold of that man."
Tony behind them made a sudden movement that let out nearly a yard of
rope, and the _Farfalla_ listed heavily to starboard.
"Tony!" Constance threw over her shoulder. "Don't you know enough to sit
still when you are holding the sheet?"
"_Scusi_," he murmured. The sulky look had vanished from his face; he
wore an expression of alert attention.
"Of course we shall have them at the villa," said Miss Hazel. "And we
shall have to get some new dishes. Elizabetta has already broken so many
plates that she has to stop and wash them between courses."
Constance looked dreamily across the lake; she appeared to be thinking.
"I wonder," she inquired finally, "if Jerry Junior knew we were here in
Valedolmo?"
Her father emerged from the columns of his paper.
"Of course he knew it, and having heard what a dangerous young person you
were, he said to himself, 'I'd better keep out.'"
"I wish I knew. It would make the score against him considerably
heavier."
"So there is already a score? I hadn't supposed that the game had begun."
She nodded.
"Six years ago--but he doesn't know it. Yes, Dad," her tone was
melodramatic, "for six years I've been waiting for Jerry Junior and
planning my revenge. And now, when I have him almost in my grasp, he
eludes me again!"
"Dear me!" Mr. Wilder ejaculated. "What did the young man do?"
Had Constance turned she would have found Tony's face an interesting
study. But she knew well enough without looking at him that he was
listening to the conversation, and she determined to give him something
to listen to. It was a salutary thing for Tony to be kept in mind of the
fact that there were other men in the world.
She sighed.
"He was the first man I ever loved, Father, and he spurned me. Do you
remember that Christmas when I was in boarding-school and you were called
South on business? I wanted to visit Nancy Long, but you wouldn't let me
because you didn't like her father; and you got Mrs. Jerymn Hilliard whom
I had never set eyes on to invite me there? I didn't want to go, and you
said I must, and were perfectly horrid about it--you remember that?"
Mr. Wilder grunted.
"Yes, I see you do. And you remember how, with my usual sweetness, I
finally gave way? Well, Dad, you never knew the reason. The Yale Glee
Club came to Westfield that year just before the holidays began, and Miss
Jane let everybody go to the concert whose deportment had been above
eighty--that of course included me.
"Well, we all went, and we all fell in love--in a body--with a sophomore
who played the banjo and sang negro songs. He had lovely dark
gazelle-like eyes and he sang funny songs without smiling. The whole
school raved about him all the way home; we cut his picture out of the
program and pasted in the front of our watches. His name, Father--" she
paused dramatically, "was Jerymn Hilliard Junior!"
"I sat up half the night writing diplomatic letters to you and Mrs.
Hilliard; and the next day when it got around that I was actually going
to visit in his house--well, I was the most popular girl in school. I was
sixteen years old then; I wore sailor suits and my hair was braided down
my back. Probably I did look young; and then Nannie, whom I was
supposedly visiting, was only fifteen. There were a lot of cousins in the
house besides all the little Hilliards, and what do you think? They made
the children eat in the schoolroom! I never saw him until Christmas
night; then when we were introduced, he shook my hand in a listless sort
of way, said 'How d' y' do?' and forgot all about me. He went off with
the Glee Club the next day, and I only saw him once more.
"We were playing blind man's buff in the school-room; I had just been
caught by the hair. It hurt and I was squealing. Everybody else was
clapping and laughing, when suddenly the door burst open and there stood
Jerry Junior! He looked straight at me and growled:
"'What are you kids making such an infernal racket about?'"
She shut her eyes.
"Aunt Hazel, Dad, just think. He was my first love. His picture was at
that moment in a locket around my neck. And he called me a _kid_!"
"And you've never seen him since?" Miss Hazel's smile expressed amused
indulgence.
Constance shook her head.
"He's always been away when I've visited Nan--and for six years I've been
waiting." She straightened up with an air of determination. "But now, if
he's on the continent of Europe, I'll get him!"
"And what shall you do with him?" her father mildly inquired.
"Do with him? I'll make him take it back; I'll make him eat that word
kid!"
"H'm!" said her father. "I hope you'll get him; he might act as an
antidote to some of these officers."
They had run in under the shadow of the mountain and the keel grated on
the shore. Constance raised her eyes and studied the towering crag above
their heads; when she lowered them again, her gaze for an instant met
Tony's. There was a new light in his eyes--amusement, triumph, something
entirely baffling. He gave her the intangible feeling of having at last
got the mastery of the situation.