love-making. He wished to make love
that very instant, but he feared lest the girl might be lost by such
impetuosity. In all likelihood, the thought of love in connection
with himself had never entered her mind. Why should it? Karl in love
was very modest and saw himself as a very insignificant figure.
Probably this flower-like young creature had never thought of love at
all. She had lived her sweet simple village life. She had obeyed her
grandmother and her aunts, done her household tasks and embroidered.
He remembered the grimy bit of linen which he had picked up and he
could not see the very slightest connection between that sort of
thing and love and romance. Of course, she had read a few love
stories and the reasoning by analogy develops in all minds. She might
have built a few timid air castles for herself upon the foundations
of the love stories in fiction, and this brought him around to the
fatal subject again almost inevitably.

"Do you know, Miss Eustace," he said, "that I am wishing a very queer
thing about you?"

"What, Mr. von Rosen?"

"I am wishing, you know that I would not esteem you more highly, it
is not that, but I am wishing that you also had written a book, a
really good sort of love story, novel, you know."

Annie gasped.

"I don't mean because Mrs. Edes wrote _The Poor Lady_. It is not
that. I am quite sure that you could have written a book every whit
as good as hers but what I do mean is--I feel that a woman writer if
she writes the best sort of book must obtain a certain insight
concerning human nature which requires a long time for most women."
Von Rosen was rather mixed, but Annie did not grasp it. She was very
glad that they were nearing her own home. She could not endure much
more.

"Is _The Poor Lady_ a love story?" inquired Von Rosen.

"There is a little love in it," replied Annie faintly.

"I shall certainly read it," said Von Rosen. He shook hands with
Annie at her gate and wanted to kiss her. She looked up in his face
like an adorably timid, trustful little child and it seemed almost
his duty to kiss her, but he did not. He said good-night and again
mentioned his collection of curios.

"I hope you will feel inclined to come and see them," he said,
"with--your aunts."

"Thank you," replied Annie, "I shall be very glad to come, if both
Aunt Harriet and Aunt Susan do not. That would of course oblige me to
stay with grandmother."

"Of course," assented Von Rosen, but he sa