‘I suppose we must.’ Constance agreed with an uncordial sigh.
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way to the Hotel du Lac, while Elizabetta, on her knees in the villa guest-room, was vigorously scrubbing the mosaic floor.
Gustavo hurried out to meet them. He was plainly in a flutter; something had occurred to upset the usual suavity of his manners.
‘Si, signorina, in ze garden—ze two American ladies—having tea. And you are acquaint wif ze family; all ze time you are acquaint wif zem, and you never tell me!’ There was mystification and reproach in his tone. Constance eyed him with a degree of mystification on her side.
‘I am acquainted with a number of families that I have never told you about,’ she observed.
‘Scusi, signorina,’ he stammered; and immediately, ‘Tony, zat donk’-man, what you do wif him?’
‘Oh, he and my father are climbing Monte Brione to-day.’
‘What time zay come home?’
‘About seven o’clock, I fancy.
‘Ze signora and ze signorina—zay come two days before zay are expect.’ And he was clearly aggrieved by the fact.