CHAPTER XIII
Three days passed in which Mr. Wilder and Tony industriously climbed, andin which nothing of consequence passed between Constance and Tony. If shehappened to be about when the expeditions either started or came to anend (and for one reason or another she usually was) she ignored himentirely; and he ignored her, except for an occasional mockinglydeferential bow. He appeared to extract as much pleasure from theexcursions as Mr. Wilder, and he asked for no extra compensation by theway.
It was Tuesday again, just a week and a day since the young American haddropped over the wall of Villa Rosa asking for the garden of the prince.Tony and Mr. Wilder were off on a trip; Miss Hazel and Constance on thepoint of sitting down to afternoon tea--there were no guests today--whenthe gardener from the Hotel du Lac appeared with a message from NannieHilliard. She and her aunt had arrived half an hour before, which was agood two days earlier than they were due. Constance read the note with aclouded brow and silently passed it to Miss Hazel. The news was not soentirely welcome as under other circumstances it would have been. NannieHilliard was both perspicacious and fascinating, and Constance foresawthat her presence would tangle further the already tangled plot of thelittle comedy which was unfolding itself at Villa Rosa. But Miss Hazel,divining nothing of comedies or plots, was thrown into a pleasant flutterby the news. Guests were a luxury which occurred but seldom in the quietmonotony of Valedolmo.
"We must call on them at once and bring them back to the house."
"I suppose we must." Constance agreed with an uncordial sigh.
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the Hotel du Lac, whileElizabetta, on her knees in the villa guest-room, was vigorouslyscrubbing the mosaic floor.
Gustavo hurried out to meet them. He was plainly in a flutter; somethinghad occurred to upset the usual suavity of his manners.
"_Si_, signorina, in ze garden--ze two American ladies--having tea. Andyou are acquaint wif ze family; all ze time you are acquaint wif zem, andyou never tell me!" There was mystification and reproach in his tone.
Constance eyed him with a degree of mystification on her side.
"I am acquainted with a number of families that I have never told youabout," she observed.
"_Scusi_, signorina," he stammered; and immediately, "Tony, zatdonk'-man, what you do wif him?"
"Oh, he and my father are climbing Monte Brione today."
"What time zay come home?"
"About seven o'clock, I fancy."
"Ze signora and ze signorina--zay come two days before zay are expect."He was clearly aggrieved by the fact.
Constance's mystification increased; she saw not the slightestconnection.
"I suppose, Gustavo, you can find them something to eat even if they didcome two days before they were expected?"
The two turned toward the arbor, but Constance paused for a moment andglanced back with a shade of mischief in her eye.
"By the way, Gustavo, that young man who taught the parrot English hasgone?"
Gustavo rolled his eyes to the sky and back to her face. She understoodnothing; was there ever a muddle like this?
"_Si_, signorina," he murmured confusedly, "ze yong man is gone."
Nannie caught sight of the visitors first, and with a start which nearlyupset the tea table, came running forward to meet them; while her aunt,Mrs. Eustace, followed more placidly. Nannie was a big wholesome outdoorgirl of a purely American type. She waited for no greetings; she had newsto impart.
"Constance, Miss Hazel! I'm so glad to see you--what do you think? I'mengaged!"
Miss Hazel murmured incoherent congratulations, and tried not to look asshocked as she felt. In her day, no lady would have made so delicate anannouncement in any such off-hand manner as this. Constance received itin the spirit in which it was given.
"Who's the man?" she inquired, as she shook hands with Mrs. Eustace.
"Nannie caught sight of the visitors first, and camerunning forward to meet them"]
"You don't know him--Harry Eastman, a friend of Jerry's. Jerry doesn'tknow it yet, and I had to confide in someone. Oh, it's no secret; Harrycabled home--he wanted to get it announced so I couldn't change my mind.You see he only had a three weeks' vacation; he took a fast boat, landedat Cherbourg, followed us the whole length of France, and caught us inLucerne just after Jerry had gone. I couldn't refuse him after he'dtaken such a lot of trouble. That's what detained us: we had expected tocome a week ago. And now--" by a rapid change of expression she becametragic--"We've lost Jerry Junior!"
"Lost Jerry Junior!" Constance's tone was interested. "What has become ofhim?"
"We haven't an idea. He's been spirited off--vanished from the earth andleft no trace. Really, we're beginning to be afraid he's been captured bybrigands. That head waiter, that Gustavo, knows where he is, but we can'tget a word out of him. He tells a different story every ten minutes. Ilooked in the register to see if by chance he'd left an address there,and what do you think I found?"
"Oh!" said Constance; there was a world of illumination in her tone."What did you find?" she asked, hastily suppressing every emotion butpolite curiosity.
"'Abraham Lincoln' in Jerry's hand-writing!"
"Really!" Constance dimpled irrepressibly. "You are sure Jerry wroteit?"
"It was his writing; and I showed it to Gustavo, and what do you think hesaid?"
Constance shook her head.
"He said that Jerry had forgotten to register, that that was written by aHungarian nobleman who was here last week--imagine a Hungarian noblemannamed Abraham Lincoln!"
Constance dropped into one of the little iron chairs and bowed her headon the back and laughed.
"Perhaps you can explain?" There was a touch of sharpness in Nannie'stone.
"Don't ever ask me to explain anything Gustavo says; the man is not to bebelieved under oath."
"But what's become of Jerry?"
"Oh, he'll turn up." Constance's tone was comforting. "Aunt Hazel," shecalled. Miss Hazel and Mrs. Eustace, their heads together over the teatable, were busily making up three months' dropped news. "Do you rememberthe young man I told you about who popped into our garden last week?That was Jerry Junior!"
"Then you've seen him?" said Nannie.
Constance related the episode of the broken wall--the sequel she omitted."I hadn't seen him for six years," she added apologetically, "and Ididn't recognize him. Of course if I'd dreamed--"
Nannie groaned.
"And I thought I'd planned it so beautifully!"
"Planned what?"
"I suppose I might as well tell you since it's come to nothing. Wehoped--that is, you see--I've been so worried for fear Jerry--" She tooka breath and began again. "You know, Constance, when it comes to gettingmarried, a man has no more sense than a two-year child. So I determinedto pick out a wife for Jerry, myself, one I would like to have for asister. I've done it three times and he simply wouldn't look at them; youcan't imagine how stubborn he is. But when I found we were coming toValedolmo, I said to myself, now this is my opportunity; I will have himmarry Connie Wilder."
"You might have asked my permission."
"Oh, well, Jerry's a dear; next to Harry you couldn't find anyone nicer.But I knew the only way was not to let him suspect. I thought you seethat you were still staying at the hotel; I didn't know you'd taken avilla, so I planned for him to come to meet us three days before wereally expected to get here. I thought in the meantime, being strandedtogether in a little hotel you'd surely get acquainted--Jerry's veryresourceful that way--and with all this beautiful Italian scenery about,and nothing to do--"
"I see!" Constance's tone was somewhat dry.
"But nothing happened as I had planned. You weren't here, he was bored todeath, and I was detained longer than I meant. We got the most patheticletter from him the second day, saying there was no one but the headwaiter to talk to, nothing but an india-rubber tree to look at, and if wedidn't come immediately, he'd do the Dolomites without us. Then finally,just as we were on
the point of leaving, he sent a telegram saying:'Don't come. Am climbing mountains. Stay there till you hear from me.'But being already packed, we came, and this is what we find--" She wavedher hand over the empty grove.
"It serves you right; you shouldn't deceive people."
"It was for Jerry's good--and yours too. But what shall we do? He doesn'tknow we're here and he has left no address."
"Come out to the villa and visit us till he comes to search for you."
Constance could hear her aunt delivering the same invitation to Mrs.Eustace, and she perforce repeated it, though with the inward hope thatit would be declined. She had no wish that Tony and her father shouldreturn from their trip to find a family party assembled on the terrace.The adventure was not to end with any such tame climax as that. To herrelief they did decline, at least for the night; they could make nodefinite plans until they had heard from Jerry. Constance rose upon thisassurance and precipitated their leave-takings; she did not wish her auntto press them to change their minds.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Eustace, good-bye, Nannie; we'll be around tonight totake you sailing--provided there's any breeze."
She nodded and dragged her aunt off; but as they were entering the arbora plan for further complicating matters popped into her head, and sheturned back to call:
"You are coming to the villa tomorrow, remember, whether Jerry Juniorturns up or not. I'll write a note and invite him too--Gustavo can giveit to him when he comes, and you needn't bother any more about him."
They found Gustavo hovering omnivorously in the courtyard, hungering fornews; Constance summoned him to her side.
"Gustavo, I am going to send you a note tonight for Mr. Jerymn Hilliard.You will see that it gets to him as soon as he arrives?"
"Meestair Jayreem Ailyar?" Gustavo stared.
"Yes, the brother of the signorina who came today. He is expectedtomorrow or perhaps the day after."
"_Scusi_, signorina. You--you acquaint wif him?"
"Yes, certainly. I have known him for six years. Don't forget to deliverthe note; it's important."
They raised their parasols and departed, while Gustavo stood in thegateway bowing. The motion was purely mechanical; his thoughts werelaboring elsewhere.