Jerry Junior | Page 9

zat yong American gentleman say it--dam slow, no
divertimento."
"He's just about right, Gustavo," Mr. Wilder broke in. "The next time a
young American gentleman blunders into the Hotel du Lac you send
him around to me."
"Si, signore."
Gustavo rolled his eyes toward the signorina; she continued to sip her
lemonade.
"I have told him yesterday an American family live at Villa Rosa; he
say 'All right, I go call,' but--but I sink maybe you were not at home."
"Oh!" The signorina raised her head in apparent enlightenment. "So
that was the young man? Yes, to be sure, he came, but he said he was
looking for Prince Sartorio's villa. I am sorry you were away, Father,
you would have enjoyed him; his English was excellent.--Did he tell
you he saw me, Gustavo?"
"Si, signorina, he tell me."
"What did he say? Did he think I was nice?"
Gustavo looked embarrassed.
"I--I no remember, signorina."
She laughed and to his relief changed the subject.
"Those English ladies who are staying here--what do they look like?
Are they young?"
Gustavo delivered himself of an inimitable gesture which suggested
that the English ladies had entered the bounds of that indefinite period
when the subject of age must be politely waived.

"They are tall, signorina, and of a thinness--you would not believe it
possible."
"I see! And so the poor young man was bored?"
Gustavo bowed vaguely. He saw no connection.
"He was awfully good-looking," she added with a sigh. "I'm afraid I
made a mistake. It would be rather fun, don't you think, Dad, to have an
entertaining young American gentleman about?"
"Ump!" he grunted. "I thought you were so immensely satisfied with
the officers."
"Oh, I am," she agreed with a shrug which dismissed forever the young
American gentleman.
"Well, Gustavo," she added in a business-like tone, "I will tell you why
we called. The doctor says the Signor Papa is getting too fat--I don't
think he's too fat, do you? He seems to me just comfortably chubby; but
anyway, the doctor says he needs exercise, so we're going to begin
climbing mountains with nails in our shoes like the Germans. And
we're going to begin to-morrow because we've got two English people
at the villa who adore mountains. Do you think you can find us a guide
and some donkeys? We want a nice, gentle, lady-like donkey for my
aunt, and another for the English lady and a third to carry the
things--and maybe me, if I get tired. Then we want a man who will
twist their tails and make them go; and I am very particular about the
man. I want him to be picturesque--there's no use being in Italy if you
can't have things picturesque, is there, Gustavo?"
"Si, signorina," he bowed and resumed his attitude of strained attention.
"He must have curly hair and black eyes and white teeth and a nice
smile; I should like him to wear a red sash and earrings. He must be
obliging and cheerful and deferential and speak good Italian--I won't
have a man who speaks only dialect. He must play the mandolin and
sing Santa Lucia--I believe that's all."

"And I suppose since he is to act as guide he must know the region?"
her father mildly suggested.
"Oh, no, that's immaterial; we can always ask our way."
Mr. Wilder grunted, but offered no further suggestion.
"We pay four lire a day and furnish his meals," she added munificently.
"And we shall begin with the castle on Monte Baldo; then when we get
very proficient we'll climb Monte Maggiore. Do you understand?"
"Ze signorina desires tree donkeys and a driver at seven o'clock
to-morrow morning to climb Monte Baldo?"
"In brief, yes, but please remember the earrings."
* * * * *
Meanwhile a commotion was going on behind them. The hotel
omnibus had rumbled into the court yard. A fachino had dragged out a
leather trunk, an English hat box and a couple of valises and dumped
them on the ground while he ran back for the paste pot and a pile of
labels. The two under-waiters, the chamber-maid and the boy who
cleaned boots had drifted into the court. It was evident that the
American gentleman's departure was imminent.
The luggage was labelled and hoisted to the roof of the omnibus; they
all drew up in a line with their eyes on the door; but still the young man
did not come. Gustavo, over his shoulder, dispatched a waiter to hunt
him up. The waiter returned breathless. The gentleman was nowhere.
He had searched the entire house; there was not a trace. Gustavo sent
the boot-boy flying down the arbor to search the garden; he was
beginning to feel anxious. What if the gentleman in a sudden fit