meaning of this? It's Italian!' She spread it on
the table while the three bent over it in puzzled wonder.

'Ceingide mai maind dunat comtu Riva stei in Valedolmo geri.'

Constance was the first to grasp the meaning; she read it twice and
laughed.

'That's not Italian; it's English, only the operator has spelt it
phonetically--I begin to believe there is a Jerry,' she added, 'no one
could cause such a bother who didn't exist.' She picked up the slip and
translated--

'"Changed my mind. Do not come to Riva; stay in Valedolmo--JERRY."'

'I'm a clairvoyant, you see. I told you he wouldn't be there!'

'But where is he?' Nannie wailed.

Constance and her father glanced tentatively at each other, and were
silent. Gustavo, who had been hanging officiously in the rear, approached
and begged their pardon.

'_Scusi_, signora, but I sink I can explain. _Ecco_! Ze telegram is dated
from Limone--zat is a village close by here on ze ozzer side of ze lake.
He is gone on a walking trip, ze yong man, of two--tree days wif an
Englishman who is been in zis hotel. If he expect you so soon he would
not go. But patience, he will come back. Oh, yes, in a little while,
after one--two day he come back.'

'What is the man talking about?' Mrs. Eustace was both indignant and
bewildered. 'Jerry was in Riva yesterday at the Hotel Sole d'Oro. How
can he be on a walking trip at the other end of the lake to-day?'

'You don't suppose'--Nannie's voice was tragic--'that he has eloped with
that American girl?'

'Good heavens, my dear!' Mrs. Eustace appealed to Mr. Wilder. 'What are
the laws in this dreadful country? Don't banns or something have to be
published three weeks before the ceremony can take place?'

Mr. Wilder rose hastily.

'Yes, yes, dear lady. It's impossible; don't consider any such
catastrophe for a moment. Come, Constance, I really think we ought to be
going.--Er, you see, Mrs. Eustace, you can't believe--that is, don't let
anything Gustavo says trouble you. With all respect for his many fine
qualities, he has not Jerry's regard for truth. And don't bother any more
about the boy; he will turn up in a day or so. He may have written some
letters of explanation that you haven't got. These foreign mails----' He
edged toward the gate.

Constance followed him and then turned back.

'We're on our way to the jail,' she said, 'to visit our donkey-driver,
who has managed to get himself arrested. While we're there we can make