"I gladly promise," he answered. "What I already know of you is all-sufficient."
"Second, do not fail to come to my uncle's house when he invites you. His home is worthy to receive the grandest prince in the world. My--my lord, Duke Philip the Good, was Uncle Castleman's dear friend. The old duke, when in Peronne, dined once a week with my uncle. Although uncle is a burgher, he could have been noble. He refused a lordship and declined the Order of the Golden Fleece, preferring the freedom of his own caste. I have always thought he acted wisely."
"Indeed he was wise," returned Max. "You that have never known the restraints of one born to high estate cannot fully understand how wise he was."
Yolanda glanced up to Max with amusement in her eyes:--
"Ah, yes! For example, there is poor Mary of Burgundy, who is to marry the French Dauphin. I pity her. For all we know, she may be longing for another man as I--I longed for my mastiff, Caesar, when I was away. By the way, Sir Max, are you still wearing the ring?" She took his hand and felt for the ring on his finger. "Ah, you have left it off," she cried reproachfully, answering her own question.
"Yes," answered Max. "There have been so many changes within the last few weeks that I have taken it off, and--and I shall cease to wear it."
"Then give it to me, Sir Max," she cried excitedly.
"I may not do that, Fräulein," answered Max. "It was given to me by one I respect."
"I know who the lady is," answered Yolanda, tossing her head saucily and speaking with a dash of irritation in her voice.
"Ah, you do?" asked Max. "Tell me now, my little witch, who is the lady? If you know so much tell me."