s you
might suppose about marrying their daughters to foreign captains and
lieutenants even if they have got uniforms and swords. I shouldn't be
surprised if the Signor Papa were just a little nervous over the
situation. It seems to me there might be an opening for a likely young
fellow speaking the English language, even if he hasn't a uniform and
sword. How does he strike you?'

'_Si_, signore.'

'I'm glad you agree with me. It is now five minutes past four; do you
think the American family would be taking a siesta?'

'I do not know, signore.' Gustavo's tone was still patient.

'And whereabouts is the rose-coloured villa with the terrace on the
lake?'

'It is a quarter of a hour beyond ze Porta Sant' Antonio. If ze gate is
shut you ring at ze bell and Giuseppe will open. But ze road is ver' hot
and ver' dusty. It is more cooler to take ze paf by ze lake. Straight to
ze left for ten minutes and step over ze wall; it is broken in zat place
and quite easy.'

'Thank you, that is a wise suggestion; I shall step over the wall by all
means.' He jumped to his feet and looked about for his hat. 'You turn to
the left and straight ahead for ten minutes? Good-bye then till dinner.
I go in search of the Signorina Costantina who is beautiful as the angels
in Paradise, and who lives in a rose-coloured villa set in a cypress
grove on the shores of Lake Garda--not a bad setting for romance, is it,
Gustavo?--Dinner, I believe, is at seven o'clock?'

'_Si_, signore, at seven; and would you like veal cooked Milanese
fashion?'

'Nothing would please me more. We have only had veal Milanese fashion
five times since I came.'

He waved his hand jauntily and strolled whistling down the arbour that
led to the lake. Gustavo looked after him and shook his head. Then he
took out the two-lire piece and rang it on the table. The metal rang
true. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back indoors to order the
veal.

CHAPTER II

The terrace of Villa Rosa juts out into the lake, bordered on three sides
by a stone parapet, and shaded above by a yellow-ochre awning. Masses of
oleanders hang over the wall and drop pink petals into the blue waters
below. As a study in colour the terrace is perfect, but, like the
courtyard of the Hotel du Lac, decidedly too hot for mid-afternoon. To
the right of the terrace, however, is a shady garden set in alleys of
cypress trees, and separated from the lake by a strip of beach and a low
balustrade.