"How do you know she has never seen me?" asked Max, who had not fully
caught her reply when she spoke of the fact that he had never seen the
lady of the ring. "I shall surely come to believe you are a sorceress."

"No, I am not," she answered emphatically. "You shall carry that jest no
further. A moment since you said those who know her say so and so, and
you believed she was short of stature. Had you ever seen the lady, you
would know if she were tall or short. You would not be in doubt upon so
important a matter as the stature of your lady-love."

The reasoning and the reasoner were so irresistible that Max was easily
satisfied.

"But you have spoken of the lady as in the past. I hope she is not
dead?" asked Yolanda.

"No," answered Max, gravely, "our fathers did not agree. That is, her
father was not satisfied, and it all came to nothing save a--a
heartache for me."

It was well that Max was looking at the ground when she turned the soft
radiance of her eyes upon him, else he might have learned too much. His
modesty and honesty in admitting frankly that the lady's father was not
satisfied with the match pleased her and she sat in silence, smiling
contentedly. After a time she turned almost fiercely upon him:--

"Do you know what I should do, Sir Max, were I in your place?"

"What would you do, Fräulein?" queried Max.