come entirely for him. You can see Lago di Garda, Monte Brione, Monte Baldo wif ze ruin castle of ze Scaliger, Monte Maggiore, ze Altissimo di Nago, ze snow cover peak of Monte——’
Mr. Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., stopped him with a gesture.
‘That will do; I read Baedeker myself, and I saw them all the first night I came. You must know at your age, Gustavo, that a man can’t enjoy a view by himself; it takes two for that sort of thing.—Yes, the truth is that I am lonely. You can see yourself to what straits I am pushed for conversation. If I had your command of language, now, I would talk to the German Alpine climbers.’
An idea flashed over Gustavo’s features.
‘Ah, zat is it! Why does not ze signore climb mountains? Ver’ helful; ver’ diverting. I find guide.’
‘You needn’t bother. Your guide would be Italian, and it’s too much of a strain to talk to a man all day in dumb show.’ He folded his arms with a weary sigh. ‘A week of Valedolmo! An eternity!’
Gustavo echoed the sigh. Though he did not entirely comprehend the trouble, still he was of a generously sympathetic nature.
‘It is a pity,’ he observed casually, ‘zat you are not acquaint wif ze Signor Americano who lives in Villa Rosa. He also finds Valedolmo undiverting. He comes—but often—to talk wif me. He has fear of forgetting how to spik Angleesh, he says.’
The young man opened his eyes.
‘What are you talking about—a Signor Americano here in Valedolmo?’
‘Sicuramente, in zat rose-colour villa wif ze cypress trees and ze terrazzo on ze lake. His daughter, la Signorina Costantina, she live wif him—ver’ young, ver’ beautiful’—Gustavo rolled his eyes and clasped his hands—‘beautiful like ze angels in Paradise—and she spik Italia like I spik Angleesh.’
Jerymn Hilliard, Jr., unfolded his arms and sat up alertly.
‘You mean to tell me that you had an American family up your sleeve all this time and never said a word about it?’ His tone was stern.
‘Scusi, signore, I have not known zat you have ze plaisir of zer acquaintance.’
‘The pleasure of their acquaintance! Good heavens, Gustavo, when one shipwrecked man meets another shipwrecked man on a desert
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