Morning, Dad! You look beautiful! There's nothing so becoming to a man as knickerbockers--especially if he's a little stout .-- You're late,' she added with a touch of severity.
'Breakfast has been waiting half an hour and Tony fifteen minutes.' She turned back toward the donkey-man, who was standing, hat in hand, respectfully waiting orders.

'Oh, Tony, I forgot to tell you; we shall not need Beppo and the donkeys to-day.

You and my father are going alone.' 'You no want to climb Monte Maggiore--ver' beautiful mountain.' There was disappointment, reproach, rebellion in his tone.
'We have made inquiries and my aunt thinks it too long a trip.

Without the donkeys you can cross by boat, and that cuts off three miles.' 'As you please, signorina.' He turned away.
Constance looked after him with a shade of remorse.

When this plan of sending her father and Tony alone had occurred to her as she sailed homeward yesterday from the Hotel du Lac, it had seemed a humorous and fitting retribution.