"Let's not be absurd," she returned coldly. "And please answer my questions." Betty did not mean to be disagreeable, for she did not actually dislike this young man—he was too queer and apparently too simple. Nevertheless it was impossible for her to appreciate how unlike she was to any other girl with whom the young German had ever associated. Her frankness, her self-possession, her brightness and of course her beauty, all of which were ordinary characteristics of most American girls, were a kind of miracle to Fritz.
"I haf come into this place that I may see you," he replied. "And your Mutter has told me where I must come to look. But this neighborhood I know sehr wohl. It is the castle of my uncle which you may haf seen on a hill not far away. It is of stone with a high wall around it——"
But Betty's expression had now changed, her eyes were sparkling and her color rapidly changing. How could poor Fritz have guessed that no higher emotion than curiosity stirred her? She now pointed invitingly toward a fallen tree, seating herself on one end of it.
"Tell Me More About the Places Near Here"
"Do tell me more about the places near here, if you know about them," she suggested. "I was perfectly sure that they had strange and romantic histories. I think I can guess which is your uncle's estate. Has it a long avenue of linden trees and a lodge covered with ivy and a lake with a waterfall?"
Betty hesitated, for even Fritz was looking somewhat startled at her knowledge of details.