s own daughter may have his ear for a moment or two."

Yolanda laughed at Twonette's display of ill-temper.

"Well, uncle, since I must tell my own tale, I will begin," said
Yolanda, blushing. "I want you to go to The Mitre and ask a friend--two
friends--of yours here to supper this evening. I have waited a weary
time for you to give this invitation, and I will not wait another hour,
nay, not another minute. We have a fat peacock that longs to be killed;
it is so fat that it is tired of life. We have three pheasants that will
die of grief if they are not baked at once. I myself have been feeding
them this fortnight past in anticipation of this feast. We have a dozen
wrens for a live pie, so tame they will light on our heads when you cut
the crust. We shall have a famous feast, uncle. There will be present
only tante, you, Twonette, our two guests, and myself. Now, uncle, the
wine is consumed. Hurry to the inn."

"My dear child," said Castleman, seriously, "you know that I am almost
powerless to refuse any request you make, but in this case I must
do so."

"Ah, uncle, please tell me why," coaxed Yolanda, with trouble in her
eyes and grief at the corners of her mouth.

"Because you must see no more of this very pleasing young man," answered
Castleman. "I yielded to your wishes at Basel and brought him with us; I
was compelled to send him with you from Metz; but now that our journey
is over, I shall thank him and pay him an additional sum, since my goods
are safe home, and say farewell to him. I believe he is a worthy and
honorable young man, but we do not know who he is, and if we did--"

"Ah, but _I_ know who he is," interrupted Yolanda, tossing her head.
"_We_ may not know, but _I_ know, and that is sufficient."

"Do you know?" asked Castleman. "Pray tell me of him. The information
was refused me; at least, it was not given. He is probably of noble
birth, but we have nobles here in Peronne whom we would not ask to our
house. We know nothing of this wandering young Max, save that he is
honest and brave and good to look upon."

"In God's name, uncle, what more would you ask in a man?" cried Yolanda,
stamping her foot. "'Noble, honest, brave, and good to look upon!' Will
not those qualities fit a man for any one's regard and delight any
woman's heart? I tell you I will have my way in this. I tell you I know
his degree. I know who he is and what he is and all about him, though I
don't intend to tell you anything, an