Jerry Junior (12 page)

"You don't know him--Harry Eastman, a friend of Jerry's. Jerry doesn't know it yet, and I had to confide in someone. Oh, it's no secret; Harry cabled home--he wanted to get it announced so I couldn't change my mind. You see he only had a three weeks' vacation; he took a fast boat, landed at Cherbourg, followed us the whole length of France, and caught us in Lucerne just after Jerry had gone. I couldn't refuse him after he'd taken such a lot of trouble. That's what detained us: we had expected to come a week ago. And now--" by a rapid change of expression she became tragic--"We've lost Jerry Junior!"

"Lost Jerry Junior!" Constance's tone was interested. "What has become of him?"

"We haven't an idea. He's been spirited off--vanished from the earth and left no trace. Really, we're beginning to be afraid he's been captured by brigands. That head waiter, that Gustavo, knows where he is, but we can't get a word out of him. He tells a different story every ten minutes. I looked in the register to see if by chance he'd left an address there, and what do you think I found?"

"Oh!" said Constance; there was a world of illumination in her tone. "What did you find?" she asked, hastily suppressing every emotion but polite curiosity.

"'Abraham Lincoln' in Jerry's hand-writing!"

"Really!" Constance dimpled irrepressibly. "You are sure Jerry wrote it?"

"It was his writing; and I showed it to Gustavo, and what do you think he said?"

Constance shook her head.

"He said that Jerry had forgotten to register, that that was written by a Hungarian nobleman who was here last week--imagine a Hungarian nobleman named Abraham Lincoln!"

Constance dropped into one of the little iron chairs and bowed her head on the back and laughed.

"Perhaps you can explain?" There was a touch of sharpness in Nannie's tone.

"Don't ever ask me to explain anything Gustavo says; the man is not to be believed under oath."

"But what's become of Jerry?"

"Oh, he'll turn up." Constance's tone was comforting. "Aunt Hazel," she called. Miss Hazel and Mrs. Eustace, their heads together over the tea table, were busily making up three months' dropped news. "Do you remember the young man I told you about who popped into our garden last week? That was Jerry Junior!"

"Then you've seen him?" said Nannie.

Constance related the episode of the broken wall--the sequel she omitted. "I hadn't seen him for six years," she added apologetically, "and I didn't recognize him. Of course if I'd dreamed--"

Nannie groaned.

"And I thought I'd planned it so beautifully!"

"Planned what?"

"I suppose I might as well tell you since it's come to nothing. We hoped--that is, you see--I've been so worried for fear Jerry--" She took a breath and began again. "You know, Constance, when it comes to getting married, a man has no more sense than a two-year child. So I determined to pick out a wife for Jerry, myself, one I would like to have for a sister. I've done it three times and he simply wouldn't look at them; you can't imagine how stubborn he is. But when I found we were coming to Valedolmo, I said to myself, now this is my opportunity; I will have him marry Connie Wilder."

"You might have asked my permission."

"Oh, well, Jerry's a dear; next to Harry you couldn't find anyone nicer. But I knew the only way was not to let him suspect. I thought you see that you were still staying at the hotel; I didn't know you'd taken a villa, so I planned for him to come to meet us three days before we really expected to get here. I thought in the meantime, being stranded together in a little hotel you'd surely get acquainted--Jerry's very resourceful that way--and with all this beautiful Italian scenery about, and nothing to do--"

"I see!" Constance's tone was somewhat dry.

"But nothing happened as I had planned. You weren't here, he was bored to death, and I was detained longer than I meant. We got the most pathetic letter from him the second day, saying there was no one but the head waiter to talk to, nothing but an india-rubber tree to look at, and if we didn't come immediately, he'd do the Dolomites without us. Then finally, just as we were on the point of leaving, he sent a telegram saying: 'Don't come. Am climbing mountains. Stay there till you hear from me.' But being already packed, we came, and this is what we find--" She waved her hand over the empty grove.

"It serves you right; you shouldn't deceive people."

"It was for Jerry's good--and yours too. But what shall we do? He doesn't know we're here and he has left no address."

"Come out to the villa and visit us till he comes to search for you."

Constance could hear her aunt delivering the same invitation to Mrs. Eustace, and she perforce repeated it, though with the inward hope that it would be declined. She had no wish that Tony and her father should return from their trip to find a family party assembled on the terrace. The adventure was not to end with any such tame climax as that. To her relief they did decline, at least for the night; they could make no definite plans until they had heard from Jerry. Constance rose upon this assurance and precipitated their leave-takings; she did not wish her aunt to press them to change their minds.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Eustace, good-bye, Nannie; we'll be around tonight to take you sailing--provided there's any breeze."

She nodded and dragged her aunt off; but as they were entering the arbor a plan for further complicating matters popped into her head, and she turned back to call:

"You are coming to the villa tomorrow, remember, whether Jerry Junior turns up or not. I'll write a note and invite him too--Gustavo can give it to him when he comes, and you needn't bother any more about him."

They found Gustavo hovering omnivorously in the courtyard, hungering for news; Constance summoned him to her side.

"Gustavo, I am going to send you a note tonight for Mr. Jerymn Hilliard. You will see that it gets to him as soon as he arrives?"

"Meestair Jayreem Ailyar?" Gustavo stared.

"Yes, the brother of the signorina who came today. He is expected tomorrow or perhaps the day after."

"
Scusi
, signorina. You--you acquaint wif him?"

"Yes, certainly. I have known him for six years. Don't forget to deliver the note; it's important."

They raised their parasols and departed, while Gustavo stood in the gateway bowing. The motion was purely mechanical; his thoughts were laboring elsewhere.

CHAPTER XIV

Constance occupied herself upon their return to Villa Rosa in writing the letter to Jerry Junior. It had occurred to her that this was an excellent chance to punish him, and it was the working philosophy of her life that a man should always be punished when opportunity presented. Tony had been entirely too unconcerned during the past few days; he needed a lesson. She spent three quarters of an hour in composing her letter and tore up two false starts before she was satisfied. It did not contain the slightest hint that she knew the truth, and--considered in this light--it was likely to have a chastening effect. The letter ran:

"VILLA ROSA, VALEDOLMO, "LAGO DI GARDA.

"DEAR JERRY JUNIOR: I hope you don't mind being called "Jerry Junior," but "Mr. Hilliard" sounds so absurdly formal, when I have known your sister so long and so well. We are spending the summer here in Valedolmo, and Mrs. Eustace and Nannie have promised to stop with us for a few days, provided you can be persuaded to pause in your mad rush through Europe. Now please take pity on us--guests are such unusual luxuries, and as for
men
! Besides a passing tourist or so, we have had nothing but Italian officers. You can climb mountains with my father--Nan says you are a climber--and we can supply mountains enough to keep you occupied for a month.

"My father would write himself, only that he is climbing this moment.

"Yours most cordially, "CONSTANCE WILDER."

"P. S. I forgot to mention that we are acquainted already, you and I. We met six years ago, and you insulted me--under your own roof. You called me a
kid
. I shall accept nothing but a personal apology."

Having read it critically, she sealed and addressed it with malicious delight; it was calculated to arouse just about the emotions she would like to have Tony entertain. She gave the note to Giuseppe with instructions to place it in Gustavo's hands, and then settled herself gaily to await results.

Giuseppe was barely out of sight when the two Alpine-climbers appeared at the gate. Constance had been wondering how she could inform Tony that his aunt and sister had arrived, without unbending from the dignified silence of the past three days. The obvious method was to announce it to her father in Tony's presence, but her father slipped into the house by the back way without affording her an opportunity. It was Tony himself who solved the difficulty. Of his own accord he crossed the terrace and approached her side. He laid a bunch of edelweiss on the balustrade.

"It's a peace offering," he observed.

She looked at him a moment without speaking. There was a new expression in her eyes that puzzled Tony, just as the expression in his eyes that morning on the water had puzzled her. She was studying him in the light of Jerry Junior. The likeness to the sophomore, who six years before sang the funny songs without a smile, was so very striking, she wondered she could ever have overlooked it.

"Thank you, Tony; it is very nice of you." She picked up the flowers and smiled--with the knowledge of the letter that was waiting for him she could afford to be forgiving.

"You discharged me, signorina; will you take me back into your service?"

"I am not going to climb any more mountains; it is too fatiguing. I think it is better for you and my father to go alone."

"I will serve you in other ways."

Constance studied the mountains a moment. Should she tell him she knew, or should she keep up the pretense a little longer? Her insatiable love of intrigue won.

"Are you sure you wish to be taken back?"

"
Si
, signorina, I am very sure."

"Then perhaps you will do me a favor on your way home tonight?"

"You have but to ask."

"I wish to send a message to a young American man who is staying at the Hotel du Lac--you may have seen him?"

Tony nodded.

"I have climb Monte Maggiore wif him. You recommend me; I sank you ver' moch. Nice man, zat yong American; ver' good, ver' simpatico." He leaned forward with a sudden air of anxiety. "Signorina, you--you like zat yong man?"

"I have only met him twice, but--yes, I like him."

"You like him better zan me?" His anxiety deepened; he hung upon her words.

She shook her head reassuringly.

"I like you both exactly the same."

"Signorina, which you like better, zat yong American or ze Signor Lieutenant?"

"Your questions are getting too personal, Tony."

He folded his arms and sighed.

"Will you deliver my message?"

"
Si
, signorina, wif pleasure." There was not a trace of curiosity in his expression, nothing beyond a deferential desire to serve.

"Tell him, Tony, that Miss Wilder will be at home tomorrow afternoon at tea time; if he will come by the gate and present a card she will be most pleased to see him. She wishes him to meet an American friend, a Miss Hilliard, who has just arrived at the hotel this afternoon."

She watched him sharply; his expression did not alter by a shade. He repeated the message and then added as if by the merest chance:

"Ze yong American man, signorina--you know his name?"

"Yes, I know his name." This time for the fraction of a second she surprised a look. "His name--" she hesitated tantalizingly--"is Signor Abraham Lincoln."

"Signor Ab-ra-ham Lin-coln." He repeated it after her as if committing it to memory. They gazed at each other soberly a moment; then both laughed and looked away.

Luigi had appeared in the doorway. Seeing no one more important than Tony about, he found no reason for delaying the announcement of dinner.

"
Il pranzo è sulla tavola, signorina.
"

"
Bene
!" said Constance over her shoulder. She turned back to Tony; her manner was kind. "If you go to the kitchen, Tony, Elizabetta will give you some dinner."

"Sank you, signorina." His manner was humble. "Elizabetta's dinners consist of a plate of garlic and macaroni on the kitchen steps. I don't like garlic and I'm tired of macaroni; if it's just the same to you, I think I'll dine at home." He held out his hand.

She read his purpose in his eye and put her own hands behind her.

"You won't shake hands, signorina? We are not friends?"

"I learned a lesson the last time."

"You shake hands wif Lieutenant Count Carlo di Ferara."

"It is the custom in Italy."

"We are in Italy."

"Behave yourself, Tony, and run along home!"

She laughed and nodded and turned away. On the steps she paused to add:

"Be sure not to forget the message for Signor Abraham Lincoln. I shall be disappointed if he doesn't come."

CHAPTER XV

Tony returned to the Hotel du Lac, modestly, by the back way. He assured himself that his aunt and sister were well by means of an open window in the rear of the dining-room. The window was shaded by a clump of camellias, and he studied at his ease the back of Mrs. Eustace's head and Nannie's vivacious profile as she talked in fluent and execrable German to the two Alpinists who were, at the moment, the only other guests. Brotherly affection--and a humorous desire to create a sensation--prompted him to walk in and surprise them. But saner second thoughts prevailed; he decided to postpone the reunion until he should have changed from the picturesque costume of Tony, to the soberer garb of Jerry Junior.

He skirted the dining-room by a wide detour, and entered the court-yard at the side. Gustavo, who for the last hour and a half had been alertly watchful of four entrances at once, pounced upon him and drew him to a corner.

"Signore," in a conspiratorial whisper, "zay are come, ze aunt and ze sister."