She looked at him a moment without speaking. There was a new expression in her eyes that puzzled Tony, just as the expression in his eyes that morning on the water had puzzled her. She was studying him in the light of Jerry Junior. The likeness to the sophomore, who six years before sang the funny songs without a smile, was so very striking, she wondered she could ever have overlooked it. "Thank you, Tony; it is very nice of you." She picked up the flowers and smiled--with the knowledge of the letter that was waiting for him she could afford to be forgiving. "You discharged me, signorina; will you take me back into your service?" "I am not going to climb any more mountains; it is too fatiguing. I think it is better for you and my father to go alone." "I will serve you in other ways." Constance studied the mountains a moment. Should she tell him she knew, or should she keep up the pretense a little longer? Her insatiable love of intrigue won. "Are you sure you wish to be taken back?" "_Si_, signorina, I am very sure." "Then perhaps you will do me a favor on your way home tonight?" "You have but to ask." "I wish to send a message to a young American man who is staying at the Hotel du Lac--you may have seen him?" Tony nodded. "I have climb Monte Maggiore wif him. You recommend me; I sank you ver' moch. Nice man, zat yong American; ver' good, ver' simpatico." He leaned forward with a sudden air of anxiety. "Signorina, you--you like zat yong man?" "I have only met him twice, but--yes, I like him." "You like him better zan me?" His anxiety deepened; he hung upon her words. She shook her head reassuringly. "I like you both exactly the same." "Signorina, which you like better, zat yong American or ze Signor Lieutenant?" "Your questions are getting too personal, Tony." He folded his arms and sighed. "Will you deliver my message?" "_Si_, signorina, wif pleasure." There was not a trace of curiosity in his expression, nothing beyond a deferential desire to serve. "Tell him, Tony, that Miss Wilder will be at home tomorrow afternoon at tea time; if he will come by the gate and present a card she will be most pleased to see him. She wishes him to meet an American friend, a Miss Hilliard, who has just arrived at the hotel this afternoon." She watched him sharply; his expression did not alter by a shade. He repeated the message and then added as if by the merest chance: "Ze yong American man, signorina--you know his name?" "Yes, I know his name." This time for the fraction of a second she surprised a look. "His name--" she hesitated tantalizingly--"is Signor Abraham Lincoln." "Signor Ab-ra-ham Lin-coln." He repeated it after her as if committing it to memory. They gazed at each other soberly a moment; then both laughed and looked away. Luigi had appeared in the doorway. Seeing no one more important than Tony about, he found no reason for delaying the announcement of dinner. "_Il pranzo e sulla tavola, signorina._"