of flattered diffidence and rendered, in a conversational
inflection, an excerpt from the Anglo-Saxon Bible.

"_Ealle gesceafta, heofonas and englas, sunnan and monan, steorran and
eorthan, he gesceop and geworhte on six dagum._"

"It is a very beautiful language. Say some more."

He replied with glib promptness, with a passage from Beowulf.

"_Hie dygel lond warigeath, wulfhleothu, windige naessas._"

"What does that mean?"

Tony looked embarrassed.

"I don't believe you know!"

"It means--_scusi_, signorina, I no like to say."

"You don't know."

"It means--you make me say, signorina,--'I sink you ver' beautiful like
ze angels in Paradise.'"

"Indeed! A donkey-driver, Tony, should not say anything like that."

"But it is true."

"The more reason you should not say it."

"You asked me, signorina; I could not tell you a lie."

The signorina smiled slightly and looked away at the view; Tony seized
the opportunity to look sidewise at her. She turned back and caught him;
he dropped his eyes humbly to the floor.

"Does Beppo speak Magyar?" she inquired.

"Beppo?" There was wonder in his tone at the turn her questions were
taking. "I sink not, signorina."

"That must be very inconvenient. Why don't you teach it to him?"

"_Si_, signorina." He was plainly nonplussed.

"Yes, he says that you are his father and I should think--"

"His father?" Tony appeared momentarily startled; then he laughed. "He
did not mean his real father; he mean--how you say--his god-father. I
give to him his name when he get christened."

"Oh, I see!"

Her next question was also a surprise.

"Tony," she inquired with startling suddenness, "why do you wear
earrings?"

He reddened slightly.

"Because--because--der's a girl I like ver' moch, signorina; she sink
earrings look nice. I wear zem for her."

"Oh!--But why do you fasten them on with thread?"

"Because I no wear zem always. In Italia, yes; in Amerik' no. When I
marry dis girl and go back home, zen I do as I please, now I haf to do as
she please."

"H'm--" said Constance, ruminatingly. "Where does this girl live, Tony?"

"In Valedolmo, signorina."

"What does she look like?"

"She look like--" His eyes searched the landscape and came back to her
face. "Oh, ver' beautiful, signorina. She have hair brown and gold, and
eyes--yes, eyes! Zay are sometimes black, signorina, and sometimes gray.
Her laugh, it sounds like the song of a nightingale." He clasped his