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Updated: May 17, 2025
"I remember that Franz told me at Basel, Fräulein Twonette, that you and this famous Princess Mary of Burgundy were friends." "Yes," answered Twonette, with an effort not to smile, "she has, at times, honored me with her notice." "Out of that fact grows Twonette's serene dignity," laughed Yolanda.
Good old George was in high spirits, and I could see in his eye that he intended to get drunk and, if possible, to bring me, also, to that happy condition. After many goblets of wine, he remarked: "The king of France will probably be upon us within a fortnight after he hears the sad news from Nancy." Yolanda immediately sat upright in her chair, abandoning Twonette's soft hand and softer cheek.
"You shall wear the duke's own color, purple, if you will hold your tongue about worthless matters and tell your father what I want," cried Yolanda, impetuously thrusting Twonette toward Castleman. "You tell him your own wants," answered Twonette, pouting. "Then perhaps his own daughter may have his ear for a moment or two." Yolanda laughed at Twonette's display of ill-temper.
Notwithstanding the idle, happy life we were leading, I was anxious to begin our journey to Burgundy. Just what would or could happen when we should reach that land of promise perhaps I should say of no promise I did not know. I hoped that by some happy turn of fortune perhaps through Twonette's help Max might be brought to meet Mary of Burgundy.
"Neither did I," said Max. Castleman and his wife looked displeased and Twonette's face wore an expression of amused surprise. After a constrained pause Frau Katherine said: "Our guests are not in the habit of kissing us." "No one has kissed you, tante," retorted Yolanda, "nor do they intend to do so. Do not fear. I I brought it on myself, and if I do not complain, you may bear up under it."
Yolanda was not present at supper, but she appeared soon after we had risen. We sat under the dim light of a lamp in the long room. Yolanda was on the cushioned bench in the shadow of the great chimney, silently clasping Twonette's hand. Twonette, of course, was silent and serene. Castleman and I talked disjointedly, and Max sat motionless, gazing through the window into the night.
She had changed in many respects, but especially in her attitude regarding Max. She was kind and gentle, but shy. Having dropped her familiar manner, she did not go near him, but sat at a distance, holding Twonette's hand, and silently but constantly watching him, as if she were awaiting something. Her eyes, at times, seemed to be half-indignant interrogation points.
Twonette laughed, rose hurriedly, and stood by Yolanda in front of Max. Yolanda, by way of apology, took Twonette's hand, but after a few words she coolly appropriated her place "in the deep shadow beside a gentleman." A princess enjoys many privileges denied to a burgher girl.
Yolanda buried her face in Mother Kate's breast; Castleman walked to and fro, and sympathetic Twonette wept gently. It was not in Twonette's nature to do anything violently. Yolanda, on the contrary, was intense in all her joys and griefs. "Did Sir Max tell you who he is?" asked Castleman, stopping in front of Yolanda. "No," she replied, "I will tell you some day how I guessed it.
I think Sir Max has gone falconing with father; I pray God he has gone, and I pray that Sir Karl has not. Tell Sir Karl to come to me at once. If he is not at the inn send for him. If you love me, Twonette, make all haste. Run! Run!" Twonette's haste was really wonderful. When she found me her cheeks were like red roses, and she could hardly speak for lack of breath.
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