She dried her eyes openly in preparation for the visit to be.
“You are lonely to-day,” said Fraülein sympathetically. “I am glad that your cousin did come.”
“Yes,” said Rosina, “but he went away so soon again.”
Her eyes immediately refilled.
“You love each other so very much in America,” said the German girl gently; she stood still for a minute and then smiled suddenly. “I will tell madame to come here,” she added, and left the room.
Rosina went back to the window and her unseeing contemplation of the outdoors. Presently some one knocked and she turned, crying:
“Entrez!”
The door opened, and instead of the French lady whose husband was fleeing the revolution in Caraccas by bringing his family to Munich for the winter, a man entered.
The man was tall and dark, with brown eyes and a black moustache, and his eyes were oddly full of light and laughter.
She stood still staring for one short minute, and then suddenly something swallowed up all the space between them, and her hand was fast between his grasp, pressed hard against his lips, while the pleasure in her eyes rose and fell against the joy of his own.