' Then she
danced across the room, laughing at my discomfiture. She is charming,
Max, but remember Gertrude the Conqueror! Such trifling affairs are well
enough to teach a man the a-b-c of life but one with your destiny ahead
of him must not remain too long in his alphabet. Such affairs are for
boys, Max, for boys."
"Do not fear for me, Karl," answered Max, laughingly. "We are not apt to
take hurt from dangers we see."
"Do you clearly see the danger?" I suggested.
"I clearly see," he responded. "I admire Fraeulein Yolanda as I have
never admired any other woman. I respect her as if she were a princess;
but one of the penalties of my birth is that I may not think of her nor
of one of her class. She is not for me; she is a burgher maiden--out of
my reach. For that reason I feel that I should respect her."
The attitude of Max toward Yolanda was a real triumph of skill and
adroitness over inherited convictions and false education. She had
brought him from condescension to deference solely by the magic of her
art. Or am I wrong? Was it her artlessness? Perhaps it was her artful
artlessness, since every girl-baby is born with a modicum of that
dangerous quality.
"Perhaps you are right, Karl," added Max. "I may underrate the power of
this girl. As you have said, she is a little witch. But beneath her
laughter there is a rare show of tenderness and strength, which at
times seems pathetic and almost elfin. You are right, Karl. I will
devote myself to Twonette hereafter.
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