The sisters considered.

“Well,” said Hilda, “come tomorrow morning, and we will arrange it. What is your name?”

His name was Giovanni, and he wanted to know at what time he should come, and then for whom should he say he was waiting. Hilda had no card. Connie gave him one of hers. He glanced at it swiftly, with his hot, southern blue eyes, then glanced again.

“Ah!” he said, lighting up, “Milady! Milady, isn’t it?”

“Milady Costanza!” said Connie.

He nodded, repeating: “Milady Costanza!” and putting the card carefully away in his blouse.

The Villa Esmeralda was quite a long way out, on the edge of the lagoon looking towards Chioggia. It was not a very old house, and pleasant, with the terraces looking seawards, and below, quite a big garden with dark trees, walled in from the lagoon.