Part 22 (1/2)

Constance stepped out from the door as Tony emerged from the bushes. She regarded him in startled surprise; he was still in some slight disarray from his encounter with the lieutenant.

'May I speak to you, Miss Wilder? I won't detain you but a moment.'

She nodded and kept on, her heart thumping absurdly. He had received the letter, of course; and there would be consequences. She paused at the top of the water-steps.

'You go on,' she called to the others, and pick me up on your way back.

Tony wants to see me about something, and I don't like to keep Mrs.

Eustace and Nannie waiting.'

Giuseppe pushed off and Constance was left standing alone on the water-steps. She turned as Tony approached; there was a touch of defiance in her manner.

'Well?'

He came to her side and leaned carelessly against the parapet, his eyes on the _Farfalla_ as she tossed and dipped in the wash of the _Regina Margarita_ which was just puffing out from the village landing. Constance watched him, slightly taken aback; she had expected him to be angry, sulky, reproachful--certainly not nonchalant. When he finally brought his eyes from the water, his expression was mildly melancholy.

'Signorina, I have come to say good-bye. It is very sad, but to-morrow, I too'--he waved his hand toward the steamer--'shall be a pa.s.senger.'

'You are going away from Valedolmo?'

He nodded.

'Unfortunately, yes. I should like to stay, but'--he shrugged--'life isn't all play, Miss Wilder. Though one would like to be a donkey-man for ever, one only may be for a summer's holiday. I am your debtor for a unique and pleasant experience.'

She studied his face without speaking. Did it mean that he had got the letter and was hurt, or did it perhaps mean that he had got the letter and did not care to appear as Jerry Junior? That he enjoyed the play so long as he could remain incognito and stop it where he pleased, but that he had no mind to let it drift into reality? Very possibly it meant--she flushed at the thought--that he divined Nannie's plot, and refused also to consider the fourth candidate.

She laughed and dropped into their usual jargon.

'And the young American man, Signor Abraham Lincoln, will he come to-morrow for tea?'

'Ah, signorina, he is desolated, but it is not possible. He has received a letter and he must go; he has stopped too long in Valedolmo. To-morrow morning early, he and I togever, we sail away to Austria.'

His eyes went back to the trail of smoke left by the little steamer.

'And Costantina, Tony. You are leaving her behind?' It took some courage to put this question, but she did not flinch; she put it with a laugh which contained nothing but raillery.

Tony sighed--a deep melodramatic sigh--and laid his hand on his heart.

'Ah, signorina, zat Costantina, she has not any heart. She love one man one day, anozzer ze next. I go away to forget.'

His eyes dropped to hers; for an instant the mocking light died out; a questioning wounded look took its place.

She felt a quick impulse to hold out her hands, to say, 'Jerry, don't go!

'If she only knew! Was he going because he thought that she wished to dismiss him, or because he wished to dismiss himself? Was it pique that bade him carry the play to the end, or was it merely the desire to get out of an awkward situation gracefully?

She stood hesitating, scanning the terrace pavement with troubled eyes; when she raised them to his face the chance was gone. He straightened his shoulders with an air of finality and picked up his hat from the bal.u.s.trade.

'Some day, signorina, in New York, perhaps I play a little tune underneaf your window.'

She nodded and smiled.