of which I had learned to stand in wholesome dread. I was jealous of any
woman who might disturb his dreams of Mary of Burgundy, and this little
maid was surely attractive enough to turn any man's head her way if she
so desired.

Later in the afternoon I saw Fräulein Antoinette in the shop looking at
silks and laces. Hoping to improve the opportunity, I approached her,
and was received with a serene and gracious smile. Near Antoinette were
the saucy brown eyes and the bedimpled mouth. Truly they were
exquisitely beautiful in combination, and, old as I was, I could not
keep my eyes from them. The eyes and dimples came quickly to Antoinette,
who presented me to her "Cousin Fräulein Yolanda Castleman." Fräulein
Yolanda bowed with a grace one would not expect to find in a burgher
girl, and said with the condescension of a princess:--

"Sir Karl, you pleasure me."

I was not prepared for her manner. She probably was _not_ Antoinette's
maid. A pause followed my presentation which might have been meant by
the brown-eyed maid as permission to withdraw. But I was for having
further words with Antoinette. She, however, stepped back from her
cousin, and, if I was to remain, I must speak to my lady Fräulein
Yolanda Castleman or remain silent, so I asked,--

"Do you reside in Basel, Fräulein?"

"No, no," she replied, with no touch of bourgeois confusion, "I am a
Burgundian. Uncle Castleman, after promising Twonette" (I spell the name
as she pronounced it) "and me for years, has brought us on this long
journey into the world. I am enjoying it more than any one can know, but