Their way led past the gate of the Hotel du Lac, and Mr.Wilder, being under the impression that he was enjoying a very good joke all by himself, could not forgo the temptation of stopping to inquire if Mrs.Eustace and Nannie had heard any news of the prodigal.

They found the two at breakfast in the courtyard, an open letter spread before them.

Nannie received them with lamentations.
'We can't come to the villa! Here's a letter from Jerry wanting us to start immediately for the Dolomites--did you ever know anything so exasperating ?' She passed the letter to Constance, and then as she remembered the first sentence, made a hasty attempt to draw it back.

It was too late; Constance's eyes had already pounced upon it.

She read it aloud with gleeful malice.
'"Who in thunder is Constance Wilder ?"--If that's an example of the famous Jerry Junior's politeness, I prefer not to meet him, thank you .-- It's worse than his last insult; I shall _never_ forgive this!' She glanced down the page and handed it back with a laugh; from her point of vantage it was naively transparent.