parade-ground. You think it over," he said to March. "Nobody else is
going to have the places, anyway, and you can say yes at the last minute
just as well as now."

He moved off with his girls, who looked over their shoulders at the
officers as they passed on through the adjoining room.

"My dear!" cried Mrs. March. "Didn't you suppose he classed us with
Burnamy in that business? Why should he be polite to us?"

"Perhaps he wants you to chaperon his daughters. He's probably heard of
your performance at the Kurhaus ball. But he knows that I thought Burnamy
in the wrong. This may be Stoller's way of wiping out an obligation.
Wouldn't you like to go with him?"

"The mere thought of his being in the same town is prostrating. I'd far
rather he hated us; then he would avoid us."

"Well, he doesn't own the town, and if it comes to the worst, perhaps we
can avoid him. Let us go out, anyway, and see if we can't."

"No, no; I'm too tired; but you go. And get all the maps and guides you
can; there's so very little in Baedeker, and almost nothing in that great
hulking Bradshaw of yours; and I'm sure there must be the most
interesting history of Wurzburg. Isn't it strange that we haven't the
slightest association with the name?"

"I've been rummaging in my mind, and I've got hold of an association at
last," said March. "It's beer; a sign in a Sixth Avenue saloon window
Wurzburger Hof-Brau."