She turned her face away from Max and, touching her horse with her whip,
passed a few feet ahead of him. If there were tears in her eyes, she did
not wish Max to see them. After several minutes of silence he spurred
his horse to her side.

"I did not intend to speak, Fräulein. I once said I would never speak
again. I should not have spoken now, though I have told you only what
you already know. I ask no favor in return, not even a touch from
your hand."

"You shall have that at least, Sir Max," she answered, impulsively
reining her horse close to Max and placing her hand in his.

"Still, you wish me to win the lady who sent me the ring?" asked Max.

"Yes," returned Yolanda, softly. "It will mean your happiness and
mine--" Suddenly checking herself, she explained: "I shall be happy if
you are. A man cannot know how happy a woman may be for another's sake."

I felt no desire to reprove Max when he told me of his day's adventure
with Yolanda, since I could in no way remedy the evil. In fact, Max was
growing out of my jurisdiction. He had listened to my lectures and
advice since childhood and had taken them kindly, because my authority
grew out of my love for him and his love for me. He was a boy when we
left Styria, but he was a man when we were journeying down the Rhine.
Though the confidential relations between us had grown closer, my advice
was gradually taking the form of consultation. I did not seek his
confidences, and he gave them more freely, if that were possible, than
ever before. I did not offer my advice so readily, but he sought it more