"Not till you engage us," she cried. "Hands off, there! We are to array you—not you to disarray us!"
Whereat the two gamesome Southlanders stood together in ludicrous imitation of Boris and Jorian's military stiffness, folding their hands meekly and casting their eyes downward like a pair of most ingenuous novices listening to the monitions of their Lady Superior. Then Anna's voice was heard speaking with almost incredible humility.
"Will my lord with the hook nose so great and noble deign to express a preference which of us shall be his handmaid?"
But they had ventured an inch too far. The string was effectually pulled now.
"I will have this one—she is so merry!" cried solemn Boris, seizing Anna Pappenheim about the waist.
"And I this! She pretendeth melancholy, yet has tricks like a monkey!" said Jorian, quickly following his example. The girls fended them gallantly, yet, as mayhap they desired, their case was hopeless.
"Hands off! I will not be called 'this one,'" cried Anna, though she did not struggle too vehemently.
"Nor I a monkey! Let me go, great Wend!" chimed Martha, resigning herself as soon as she had said it.
In this prosperous estate was the courtship of Franconia and Plassenburg, when some instinct drew the eyes of Jorian to the door of the officers' guard-room, which Anna had carefully left open at her entrance, in order to secure their retreat.
The Duchess Joan stood there silent and regardant.