te, where
Fidilini was visible, plainly determined not to come in. Constance
laughed expectantly and turned back to the water, her eyes intent on the
fishing-smacks that were putting out from the little _marino_. The sounds
of coercion increased; a command floated down the driveway in the English
tongue. It sounded like: 'You twist his tail, Beppo, while I pull.'

Apparently it was understood in spite of Beppo's slight knowledge of the
language. An eloquent silence followed; then an outraged grunt on the
part of Fidilini, and the cavalcade advanced with a rush to the kitchen
door. Tony left Beppo and the donkeys, and crossed the terrace alone. His
bow swept the ground in the deferential manner of Gustavo, but his glance
was far bolder than a donkey-driver's should have been. She noted the
fact and tossed him a nod of marked condescension. A silence followed,
during which Constance studied the lake; when she turned back, she found
Tony arranging a spray of oleander that had dropped from her belt in the
band of his hat. She viewed this performance in silent disfavour. Having
finished to his satisfaction, he tossed the hat aside and seated himself
on the balustrade. Her frown became visible. Tony sprang to his feet with
an air of anxiety.

'_Scusi_, signorina. I have not meant to be presumptious. Perhaps it is
not fitting that any one below the rank of lieutenant should sit in your
presence?'

'It will not be very long, Tony, before you are discharged for
impertinence.'

'Ah, signorina, do not say that! If it is your wish I will kneel when I
address you. My family, signorina, are poor; they need the four francs
which you so munificently pay.'

'You told me that you were an orphan; that you had no family.'

'I mean the family which I hope to have. Costantina has extravagant
tastes, and coral earrings cost two-fifty a pair.'

Constance laughed and assumed a more lenient air. She made a slight
gesture which might be interpreted as an invitation to sit down; and Tony
accepted it.

'By the way, Tony, how do you talk to Costantina, since she speaks no
English and you no Italian?'

'We have no need of either Italian or English; the language of love,
signorina, is universal.'

'Oh!' she laughed again. 'I was at the Hotel du Lac yesterday; I saw
Costantina.'

'You saw Costantina!--Ah, signorina, is she not beautiful? Ze mos'
beautiful in all ze world? But ver' unkind, signorina. Yes, she laugh at
me; she smile at ozz