impatiently as she spoke. "I should be very terrible to you. I
should say the meanest things. I should call you grandpapa and
give you a new cane every Christmas."

"And if you gave me also a smile, I should be content."

More than once I was near declaring myself that day, but I had a
mighty fear she was playing with me, and held my tongue. There was
an odd light in her eyes. I knew not, then, what it meant.

"You are easily satisfied," was her answer.

"I am to leave soon," I said. "May I not see you here to-morrow?"

"Alas! I do not think you can," was her answer.

"And why not?"

"Because it would not be proper," said she, smiling as she looked
up at me.

"Not proper! I should like to know why."

"It would make me break another engagement," she went on, laughing.
"I am to go with the baroness to meet the count if he comes--she
has commanded. The day after, in the morning, at ten o'clock, by
the cascade--will that do? Good! I must leave you now. I must
not return with you. Remember!" she commanded, pointing at me with
her tapered forefinger. "Remember--ten o'clock in the morning."