"It's bad enough with those five deluded officers, but they walked into the trap with their eyes open and it's their own affair. But look at Gustavo; he can scarcely carry a dish without breaking it when you are watching him. And Giuseppe--that confounded _Farfalla_ with its yellow sails floats back and forth in front of the terrace till I am on the point of having it scuttled as a public nuisance; and those three washer-women and the post-office clerk and the boy who brings milk, and Luigi and--every man, woman and child in the village of Valedolmo!" "And my own dad as well?" Mr. Wilder shook his head. [Illustration: "He had also shifted his position so that he might command the profile of the girl"] "I came here at your instigation for rest and relaxation--to get rid of nervous worries, and here I find a big new worry waiting for me that I'd never thought of having before. What if my only daughter should take it in her head to marry one of these infernally good-looking Italian officers?" Constance reached over and patted his arm. "Don't let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won't do anything of the sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that is impossible." Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice, the sugar, the cakes, with loving, elaborate obsequiousness. The signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval. "It's exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time, you remember." She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right--she nodded and smiled--and Gustavo's expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation. "Haven't you any guests, Gustavo?" Her eyes glanced over the empty court-yard. "I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous season." "_Grazie_, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night." "Seven! That's nice. What are they like?" "German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva on ze first boat." "That's too bad--then the hotel is empty?" "But no! Zer is an Italian Signora wif two babies and a governess, and two English ladies and an American gentleman--" "An American gentleman?" Her tone was languidly interested. "How long has he been here?" "Tree--four day." "Indeed--what is he like?"