is pocket a letter of introduction. The purlieus
of Villa Rosa in no wise resembled a desert island; and in the face of
that very fluent Italian, the suspicion was forcing itself upon him that
after all, the mere fact of a common country was not a sufficient bond of
union. He had definitely decided to withdraw, when the matter was taken
from his hands.

[Illustration: "Giuseppe still made a feint of preoccupation"]

The wall--as Gustavo had pointed out--was broken; it was owing to this
fact that he had been so easily able to climb it. Now, as he stealthily
turned, preparing to re-descend in the direction whence he had come, the
loose stone beneath his foot slipped and he slipped with it. Five
startled pairs of eyes were turned in his direction. What they saw, was a
young man in flannels suddenly throw up his arms, slide into an azalea
bush, from this to the balustrade, and finally land on all fours on the
narrow strip of beach, a shower of pink petals and crumbling masonry
falling about him. A momentary silence followed; then the washer-girls,
making sure that he was not injured, broke into a shrill chorus of
laughter, while the _Farfalla_ rocked under impact of Giuseppe's mirth.
The girl on the wall alone remained grave.

The young man picked himself up, restored his guide book to his pocket,
and blushingly stepped forward, hat in hand, to make an apology. One knee
bore a splash of mud, and his tumbled hair was sprinkled with azalea
blossoms.

"I beg your pardon," he stammered, "I didn't mean to come so suddenly;
I'm afraid I broke your wall."

The girl dismissed the matter with a polite gesture.

"It was already broken," and then she waited with an air of grave
attention until he should state his errand.

"I--I came--" He paused and glanced about vaguely; he could not at the
moment think of any adequate reason to account for his coming.

"Yes?"

Her eyes studied him with what appeared at once a cool and an amused
scrutiny. He felt himself growing red beneath it.

"Can I do anything for you?" she prompted with the kind desire of putting
him at his ease.

"Thank you--" He grasped at the first idea that presented itself. "I'm
stopping at the Hotel du Lac and Gustavo, you know, told me there was a
villa somewhere around here that belongs to Prince Someone or Other. If
you ring at the gate and give the gardener two francs and a visiting
card, he will let you walk around and look at the trees."

"I see!" said