I intended to tell him of it when we should
reach the inn, and I thought to tell him also that I believed Yolanda
was the Princess Mary. I changed my mind, however, and again had reason
to be thankful for my silence.
CHAPTER XII
A LIVE WREN PIE
The next day came the invitation to sup at Castleman's, and we were on
hand promptly at the appointed time--four o'clock. Before leaving the
inn I had determined to ask Castleman to satisfy my curiosity concerning
Yolanda. With good reason I felt that it was my duty and my right to
know certainly who she was. She might not be Mary of Burgundy, but she
surely was not a burgher girl, and in some manner she was connected with
the court of Duke Charles.
Max and I were sitting in the long room (it was on the ground floor and
extended across the entire front of the house) with Castleman when Frau
Kate entered followed by Yolanda and Twonette. The frau courtesied, and
gave us welcome. Twonette courtesied and stepped to her father's side.
Yolanda gave Max her hand and lifted it to be kissed. The girl laughed
joyously, and, giving him her other hand, stood looking up into his
face. Her laughter soon became nervous, and that change in a womanly
woman is apt to be the forerunner of tears. They soon came to moisten
Yolanda's eyes, but she kept herself well in hand and said:--
"It has been a very long time, Sir Max, since last I saw you."
"A hard, cruel time for me, Fraeulein. Your hot-headed duke gives strange
license to his murderous courtiers," answered Max.
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