I allow her the momentary triumph. Who would grudge to a woman a little verbal victory of that sort? And, indeed, Tita’s satisfaction did not last long. Her perplexity became visible on her face once more.
“We are to be here three weeks,” she said, almost to herself, “and he talks of flirting with poor Franziska. Oh, I never meant that!”
“But what did you mean?” I ask her, with innocent wonder.
Tita hangs down her head, and there is an end to that conversation; but one of us, at least, has some recollection of a Christmas wager.
IV—CONFESSIO AMANTIS
Charlie was not in such good spirits next morning. He was standing outside the inn, in the sweet, resinous-scented air, watching Franziska coming and going, with her bright face touched by the early sunlight, and her frank and honest eyes lit up by a kindly look when she passed us. His conscience began to smite him for claiming that fox.
We spent the day in fishing a stream some few miles distant from Huferschingen, and Franziska accompanied us. What need to tell of our success with the trout and the grayling, or of the beautiful weather, or of the attentive and humble manner in which the unfortunate youth addressed Franziska from time to time?
In the evening we drove back to Huferschingen. It was a still and beautiful evening, with the silence of the twilight falling over the lonely valleys and the miles upon miles of darkening pines. Charlie has not much of a voice, but he made an effort to sing with Tita:
“The winds whistle cold and the stars glimmer red,
The sheep are in fold and the cattle in shed;”