“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.”

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