s--when I can catch him with them off.
I am valuable to him and for three years he has paid me fair wages."

"Is this a big estate?" asked Mary Louise.

"Enormous, Signorina. It comprises three acres!"

"And where is the house?"

"Just over the hill, yonder, Signore.

"Does the student Americano live here all alone?"

"With his daughter, who is the Signorina Alora."

"Oh; there is a daughter, then? And you say they are Americans?"

"Surely, Signorina. Who else would pay the great price for this estate
for three years? The land pays nothing back--a few oranges; some
grapes, when they are cared for; a handful of almonds and olives. And
there is a servant besides myself, my niece Leona, who is housemaid and
assists the young lady."

"This sounds promising," said Mary Louise, turning to her grandfather.
"Suppose we go up to the house? Are the people at home, Silvio?--the
Signore Student and his daughter?"

The man reflected, leaning on his hoe.

"I think they are both at the mansion, Signorina, although the student
Americano may not yet have returned from Sorrento. The road to the
mansion is beyond the hill, on the other side of the estate, so I am
not sure the Signore Student has returned. But you will find the
Signorina Alora there, if you decide to venture on. But perhaps you are
the friends of my employer and his daughter?"

"What is his name?" asked Colonel Hathaway.

"It is Jones. The American saying is Mister Jason Jones, but here he is
only called the Signore Student Americano."

"Why?" asked Mary Louise.

"Because his occupation is reading. He does nothing else. Always there
is a book in his hand and always he is thinking of the things he reads.
He does not often speak, even to his daughter; he does not have friends
who visit him. If you should call at the mansion, then you will be the
first people who have done so for three years."

There was something in this report--in the manner of the man as well as
his words--that caused the strangers to hesitate. The description of
"the Student" led them to suspect he was a recluse who might not
welcome them cordially, but Mary Louise reflected that there was a
daughter and decided that any American girl shut up on this three-acre
"estate" for three years would be glad to meet another American girl.
So she said abruptly:

"Come on, Gran'pa Jim. Let's call. It is possible that Americans will
have something better in the larder than cakes and goat's milk."