“Don’t let it bother you, Dad; I assure you I won’t do anything of the sort. I should think it my duty to learn the subjunctive mood, and that is impossible.”
Gustavo came hurrying back with a tray. He arranged the glasses, the ice, the sugar, the cakes, with loving, elaborate obsequiousness. The signorina examined the ice doubtfully, then with approval.
“It’s exactly right to-day, Gustavo! You got it too large the last time, you remember.”
She stirred in some sugar and tasted it tentatively, her head on one side. Gustavo hung upon her expression in an agony of apprehension; one would have thought it a matter for public mourning if the lemonade were not mixed exactly right. But apparently it was right—she nodded and smiled—and Gustavo’s expression assumed relief. Constance broke open a pine nut cake and settled herself for conversation.
“Haven’t you any guests, Gustavo?” Her eyes glanced over the empty court-yard. “I am afraid the hotel is not having a very prosperous season.”
“Grazie, signorina. Zer never are many in summer; it is ze dead time, but still zay come and zay go. Seven arrive last night.”
“Seven! That’s nice. What are they like?”
“German mountain-climbers wif nails in zer shoes. Zey have gone to Riva on ze first boat.”
“That’s too bad—then the hotel is empty?”
“But no! Zer is an Italian Signora wif two babies and a governess, and two English ladies and an American gentleman—”
“An American gentleman?” Her tone was languidly interested. “How long has he been here?”
“Tree—four day.”
“Indeed—what is he like?”
“Nice—ver’ nice.” (Gustavo might well say that; his pockets were lined with the American gentleman’s silver lire.) “He talk to me always. ‘Gustavo,’ he say, ‘I am all alone; I wish to be ’mused. Come and talk Angleesh.’ Yes, it is true; I have no time to finish my work; I spend whole day talking wif dis yong American gentleman. He is just a little—” He touched his head significantly.
“Really?” She raised her eyes with an air of awakened interest. “And how did he happen to come to Valedolmo?”
“He come to meet his family, his sister and his—his aunt, who are going wif him to ze Tyrollo. But zay have not arrive. Zey are in Lucerne, he says, where zer is a lion dying, and zey wish to wait until he is dead; zen zey come.—Yes, it is true; he tell me zat.” Gustavo tapped his head a second time.
The signorina glanced about apprehensively.
“Is he safe, Gustavo—to be about?”
“Si, signorina, sicuramente! He is just a little simple.”
Mr. Wilder chuckled.
“Where is he, Gustavo? I think I’d like to make that young man’s acquaintance.”
“I sink, signore, he is packing his trunk. He go away today.”
“Today, Gustavo?” There was audible regret in Constance’s tone. “Why is he going?”
“It is not possible for him to stand it, signorina. Valedolmo too dam slow.”
“Gustavo! You mustn’t say that; it is very, very bad. Nice men don’t say it.”
Gustavo held his ground.
“Si, signorina, zat yong American gentleman say it—dam slow, no divertimento.”
“He’s just about right, Gustavo,” Mr. Wilder broke in. “The next time a young American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send him around to me.”
“Si, signore.”
Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her lemonade.
“I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he say ‘All right, I go call,’ but—but I sink maybe you were not at home.”
“Oh!” The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. “So that was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was looking for Prince Sartorio’s villa. I am sorry you were away, Father, you would have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.—Did he tell you he saw me, Gustavo?”
“Si, signorina, he tell me.”
“What did he say? Did he think I was nice?”
Gustavo looked embarrassed.
“I—I no remember, signorina.”
She laughed and to his relief changed the subject.
“Those English ladies who are staying here—what do they look like? Are they young?”
Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested that the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period when the subject of age must be politely waived.
“They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness—you would not believe it possible.”
