On a certain morning near the close of our sojourn in Basel, Max, after
many elephantine manoeuvres, obtained Yolanda's promise to walk out with
him to a near-by hill in the afternoon. It was a Sabbath day, and every
burgher maiden in Basel that boasted a sweetheart would be abroad with
him in the sunshine. Max could not help feeling that it was most
condescending in him, a prince, to walk out with Yolanda, a burgher
maiden. Should any one from Styria meet him, he would certainly sink
into the ground, though in a certain way the girl's reluctance seemed to
place the condescension with her.
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.
"Ah, but you are not to come with us," said Yolanda. She was ready to
give Max the opportunity he desired, and would give it generously.
"But--but what will father say?" asked Twonette, uneasily.
"We shall learn what he says when we return. No need to worry about that
now," answered Yolanda. Twonette took off her hood.
Max and Yolanda climbed the hill, and, after a little demurring on the
girl's part, sat down on a shelving rock at a point where the river view
was beautiful.
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