ence!" Tony growled. "Why couldn't it have been five
minutes late?"

They returned to the inn to find Mr. Wilder already on the front seat,
and obligingly holding the reins, while the driver occupied himself with
a glass of the famous wine. The diligence was a roomy affair of four
seats and three horses. Behind the driver were three Italians
gesticulating violently over local politics; a new _sindaco_ was
imminent. Behind these were three black-hooded nuns covertly interested
in the woman in the pink evening gown. And behind the three, occupying
the exact center of the rear seat, was a fourth nun with the portly
bearing of a Mother Superior. She was very comfortable as she was, and
did not propose to move. Constance climbed up on one side of her and
Tony on the other.

"We are well chaperoned," he grumbled, as they jolted out of the piazza.
"I always did think that the Church interfered too much with the rights
of individuals."

Constance, in a spirit of friendly expansiveness, proceeded to pick up an
acquaintance with the nuns, and the four black heads were presently
bobbing in unison, while Tony, in gloomy isolation at his end of the
seat, folded his arms and stared at the road. The driver had passed
through many villages that day and had drunk many glasses of famous wine;
he cracked his whip and sang as he drove. They rattled in and out of
stone-paved villages, along open stretches of moonlit road, past villas
and olive groves. Children screamed after them, dogs barked, Constance
and her four nuns were very vivacious, and Tony's gloom deepened with
every mile.

They had covered three quarters of the distance when the diligence was
brought to a halt before a high stone wall and a solid barred gate. The
nuns came back to the present with an excited cackling. Who would believe
they had reached the convent so soon! They made their adieus and
ponderously descended, their departure accelerated by Tony who had become
of a sudden alertly helpful. As they started again he slid along into the
Mother Superior's empty seat.

"What were we saying when the diligence interrupted?" he inquired.

"I don't remember, Tony, but I don't want to talk any more; I'm tired."

"You tired, signorina? Lay your head on my shoulder and go to sleep."

"Tony, _please_ behave yourself. I'm simply too tired to make you do it."

He reached over and took her hand. She did not try to withdraw it for
two--three minutes; then she shot him a side