CHAPTER IX.
As Constance emerged at the other end of the arbor, Gustavo, who had been nodding on the bench beside the door, sprang to his feet, consternation in his attitude.
"Signorina!" he stammered.

"You come from ze garden ?" She nodded in her usual off-hand manner and handed him the basket.
"Eggs, Gustavo--two dozen if you can spare them.

I am sorry always to be wanting so many, but--" she sighed, "eggs are so breakable!" Gustavo rolled his eyes to heaven in silent thanksgiving.

She had not, it was evident, run across the American, and the cat was still safely in the bag; but how much longer it could be kept there, the saints alone knew.
He was feeling--very properly--guilty in regard to this latest escapade; but what can a defenceless waiter do in the hands of an impetuous young American whose pockets are stuffed with silver lire and five-franc notes?
"Two dozen?
Certainly, signorina.

_Subitissimo_!" He took the basket and hurried to the kitchen.
Constance occupied the interval with the polyglot parrot of the courtyard.