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Updated: May 13, 2025
Frau Castleman coughed, and the burgher moved in his chair and swallowed half a goblet of wine. Twonette laughed outright at the pretty turn Max had made upon Yolanda, and I ridiculously tried to keep my face expressionless. Yolanda laughed flutteringly, and the long lashes fell. "That was prettily spoken, Sir Max," she said, smiling. "No Frenchman could improve upon it.
I, who had passed my quasi-priestly life without once enjoying such a luxury, touched the velvet cheek with my lips and actually felt a thrill of delight. Life among the burghers really was delicious. I tell you this as a marked illustration of the fact that a man never grows too old to be at times a fool. Twonette slipped from the room, and within fifteen minutes returned.
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.
After dinner, which we all took together that day, she put him off with excuses until drowsy Uncle Castleman had taken himself off for a nap. Then Yolanda quickly said: "Fetch me my hood, Twonette. I shall not need a cloak. I am going to walk out with Sir Max." Twonette instantly obeyed, as if she were a tire-woman to a princess, and soon returned wearing her own hood and carrying Yolanda's.
Twonette followed her example; then our small cavalcade passed out through the gate, and we entered on our long, hard race with the Duke of Burgundy. At dawn Yolanda called me to her side. "Our guide will conduct us to Cinq Voies on the Somme, eight leagues this side of Peronne," she said. "There we shall dismiss him. From Cinq Voies the road is straight to Peronne down the river.
She is like a feather-bed in that she cannot be injured by a blow, neither can she give one; but Yolanda ah, Karl, she is like a priceless jewel that may be shattered by a blow and may blind one by its radiance." But Max's devotion to Twonette was a failure. She was certainly willing, but Yolanda would have none of it, and with no equivocation gave every one to understand as much.
While Castleman was talking to De Rose, Yolanda and Twonette rode forward, passing on that side of the highway which left Castleman and me between them and the herald. "Ah, good Castleman," said De Rose, "you are far from home these troublous times." "Your words imply bad news, monsieur," returned Castleman. "I have already heard hints of trouble, though all was quiet when I left Peronne."
"It has been a hard time for others, too," she responded. "Hard for uncle, hard for tante, hard for Twonette very hard for Twonette." She spoke jestingly, but one might easily see her emotion. "And you, Fräulein?" he asked smilingly. "I I dare not say how hard it has been for me, Little Max. Do you not see? I fear I fear I shall weep if I try to tell you. I am almost weeping now.
Yolanda was not given to tears, but she used them when she found she could accomplish her ends by no other means. A long pause ensued, broken by Yolanda's sobs. "Good-by, uncle. Good-by, tante. Good-by, Twonette. I mean what I say, uncle. I am going, and I shall not come back if you will not do this thing for me. I am going to the inn." She kissed them all and started toward the door.
Go quickly, but don't hurry back. Haste, you know, Twonette, makes waste, and you may spoil the wine." Twonette laughed and went to mix the wine and honey. I walked back to the other end of the room, and sat down by a window to watch the night gather without.
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