n the work, he said to himself
as he leaned against the wall, his handsome face flushed, his eyes
sulky, watching her. It was enough to make any good-looking young
man sulky, the mixture of mystery and aloofness about Miss
Neumann-Schultz. Extraordinary as it seemed, up to this point he had
found it quite impossible to indulge with her in that form of more or
less illustrated dialogue known to Symford youths and maidens as
billing and cooing. Very fain would Robin have billed and have cooed.
It was a practice he excelled in. And yet though he had devoted
himself for three whole days, stood on ladders, nailed up creepers,
bought and carried rum, had a horrible scene with his mother because
of her, he had not got an inch nearer things personal and cosy. Miss
Neumann-Schultz thanked him quite kindly and graciously for his
pains--oh, she was very gracious; gracious in the sort of way Lady
Shuttleworth used to be when he came home for the holidays and she
patted his head and uttered benignities--and having thanked,
apparently forgot him till the next time she wanted anything.

"Fritzi," said Priscilla, when in the course of her progress down the
room she met that burdened man, "I'm dreadfully afraid I've said some
foolish things."

Fritzing put the plate of cake he was carrying down on a dresser and
wiped his forehead. "Ma'am," he said looking worried, "I cannot watch
you and administer food to these barbarians simultaneously. If your
tongue is so unruly I would recommend complete silence."

"I've said something about my sisters."

"Sisters, ma'am?" said Fritzing anxiously.

"Does it matter?"

"Matter? I have carefully instructed the woman Pearce, who has
certainly informed, as I intended she should inform, the entire
village, that you were my brother's only child. Consequently, ma'am,
you have no sisters."

Priscilla made a gesture of despair. "How fearfully difficult it is
not to be straightforward," she said.

"Yes, ma'am, it is. Since we started on this adventure the whole race
of rogues has become the object of my sincerest admiration. What wits,
what quickness, what gifts--so varied and so deftly used--what skill
in deception, what resourcefulness in danger, what self-command--"

"Yes but Fritzi what are we to do?"

"Do, ma'am? About your royal sisters? Would to heaven I had been born
a rogue!"

"Yes, but as you were not--ought I to go back and say they're only
half-sisters? Or step-sisters? Or sisters i