"She's always glad to see me." "Oh, don't be so provoking! Give me the particulars. Was she surprised? How did you explain the telegrams and letters and Gustavo's stories? I should think the Hotel Sole d'Oro at Riva and the walking trip with the Englishman must have been difficult." "Not in the least; I told the truth." "The truth! Not all of it?" "Every word." "How could you?" There was reproach in her accent. "It did come hard; I'm a little out of practice." "Did you tell her about--about me?" "I had to, Constance. When it came to the necessity of squaring all of Gustavo's yarns, my imagination gave out. Anyway, I had to tell her out of self-defence; she was so superior. She said it was just like a man to muddle everything up. Here I'd been ten days in the same town with the most charming girl in the world, and hadn't so much as discovered her name; whereas if _she_ had been managing it--You see how it was; I had to let her know that I was quite capable of taking care of myself without any interference from her. I even--anticipated a trifle." "How?" "She said she was engaged. I told her I was too." "Indeed!" Constance's tone was remote. "To whom?" "The most charming girl in the world." "May I ask her name?" He laid his hand on his heart in a gesture reminiscent of Tony. "Costantina." "Oh! I congratulate you." "Thank you--I hoped you would." She looked away, gravely, toward the Maggiore rising from the midst of its clouds. His gaze followed hers, and for three minutes there was silence. Then he leaned toward her. "Constance, will you marry me?" "No!" A pause of four minutes during which Constance stared steadily at the mountain. At the end of that time her curiosity overcame her dignity; she glanced at him sidewise. He was watching her with a smile, partly of amusement, partly of something else. "Dear Constance, haven't you had enough of play, are you never going to grow up? You are such a kid!" She turned back to the mountain. "I haven't known you long enough," she threw over her shoulder. "Six years!" "One week and two days." "Through three incarnations." She laughed a delicious rippling laugh of surrender, and slipped her hand into his. "You don't deserve it, Jerry, after the fib you told your sister, but I think--on the whole--I will." Neither noticed that Mr. Wilder had stepped out from the house and was strolling down the cypress alley in their direction. He rounded the corner in front of the parapet, and as his eye fell upon them, came to a startled halt. The young man failed to let go of her hand, and Constance glanced at her father with an apprehensive blush. "Here's--Tony, Dad. He's out of jail." "I see he is." She slipped down from the wall and brought Jerry with her.