n heard of them," she answered; then, after a short
silence,--"I fear I have asked too many questions." A gentle, apologetic
smile lighted her face and won me instantly. I liked her as much as I
admired her. I knew that she wanted me to speak of Max, so to please her
I continued, even against my inclination:--

"My young friend, Sir Maximilian du Guelph, wanted to see the world. We
are very poor, Fraeulein, and if we would travel, we must make our way as
we go. We have just come from Ulm and Cannstadt, passing through the
Black Forest. Sir Max saved the life of our host, and in so doing was
grievously wounded. Good Master Franz rewarded us far beyond our
deserts, and for the time being we think we are rich."

"The name Maximilian is not Italian," observed Yolanda. "It has an
Austrian sound."

"That is true," I responded. "My name, Karl, is German. Few names
nowadays keep to their own country. Your name, Yolanda, for example,
is Italian."

"Is that true?" she answered inquiringly, taking up a piece of lace. I
saw that the interview was closing. After a moment's hesitation Yolanda
turned quickly to me and said:--

"You and your friend may sup with us this evening in the dining room of
our hostess. We take supper at five."

The invitation was given with all the condescension of a noble lady.
Twonette ventured:--

"What will father say, Yolanda?"

"I can guess what uncle will say, but we will give him his say and take
our own way. Nonsense, Twonette, if we are to journey to Peronne with
these gentlemen, our acquaintance with them cannot begin too soon. Come,
Sir Karl, and--and bring your young friend, Sir Maximilian."

It was clear to my mind that, without my young friend, Sir Maximilian, I
should not have had the invitation. Yolanda then turned to Franz and his
silks, and I, who had always thought myself of some importance, was
dismissed by a burgher girl. I soothed my vanity with the thought that
beauty has its own prerogatives.

Without being little, Yolanda was small; without nobility, she had the
_haute_ mien. But over and above all she had a sweet charm of manner, a
saucy gentleness, and a kindly grace that made her irresistible. When
she smiled, one felt like thanking God for the benediction.

That evening at five o'clock Max and I supped with Frau Franz. The good
frau and her husband sat at either end of the table, Castleman, his
daughter, and Yolanda occupied one side, while I sat by Max opposite
them