There are two of him.' 'Two! I only ordered one.' 'One is the official driver and the other is a boy whom he has brought along to do the work.' Constance eyed her father sharply.

There was something at once guilty and triumphant about his expression.
'What is it, Dad ?' she inquired sternly.

'I suppose he has not got a sash and earrings.' 'On the contrary, he has.' 'Really?
How clever of Gustavo! I hope,' she added anxiously, 'that he talks good Italian ?' 'I don't know about his Italian, but he talks uncommonly good English.' 'English!' There was reproach, disgust, disillusionment, in her tone.
'Not really, father ?' 'Yes, really and truly--almost as well as I do.

He has lived in New York and he speaks English like a dream--real English--not the Gustavo--Lieutenant di Ferara kind.

I can understand what he says.' 'How simply horrible!' 'Very convenient, I should say.' 'If there's anything I detest, it's an Americanized Italian--and here in Valedolmo of all places, where you have a right to demand something unique and romantic and picturesque and real.