There is no position more false and trying than a woman's, when she is told in this way that a man loves her, and yet has not been told it; when she must seem not to see what she would be an idiot not to see; when he can say what he pleases and she must seem to hear only so much. I did no better and no worse than most women of my years would have done. At last the silence (which did not seem a silence to me, it was so full of new and conflicting thoughts,) was broken by the recommencement of the music in the other room. He had taken a book in his hands and was turning over its pages restlessly. "Why have you not danced?" he said at last, in a voice that still showed agitation. "I have not danced because I can't, because I never have been taught." "You? not taught? it seems incredible. But let me teach you. Will you? Teach you! you would dance by intention. And would love it--madly--as I did years ago. Come with me, will you?" "Oh, no," I said, half frightened, shrinking back, "I am not going to dance--ever." "Perhaps that is as well," he said in a low tone, meeting my eye for an instant, and telling me by that sudden brilliant gleam from his, that then he would be spared the pain of ever seeing me dancing with another. "But let me teach you something," he said after a moment. "Let me teach you German--will you?" He sank down in a chair by the table, and leaning forward, repeated his question eagerly. "Oh, yes, I should like it so much--if--." "If--if what? If it could be arranged without frightening and embarrassing you, you mean?" "Yes." "I wonder if you are not more afraid of being frightened and embarrassed than of any other earthly trial. There are worse things that come to us, Miss d'Estrée. But I will arrange about the German, and you need have no terror. How will I arrange? No matter--when Mrs. Hollenbeck asks you to join a class in German, you will join it, will you not?" "Oh, yes." "You promise?" "Oh, anything." "Anything? take care. I may fill up a check for thousands, if you give a blank." "I didn't give a blank; anything about German's what I meant." "Ah, that's safer, but not half so generous. And yet you're one who might be generous, I think." "But tell me about the German class." "I've nothing to tell you about it," he answered, "only that you've promised to learn." "But where are we to say our lessons, and what books are we to Study?" "Would you like to say a lesson now and get one step in advance of all the others?" "O yes! I shall need at least as much grace as that." "Then say this after me: 'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN, WAS SIE MICH LEHREN.' Begin. 'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN'--" "'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN'--but what does it mean?" "Oh, that is not important. Learn it first. Can you not trust me? 'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN, WAS SIE MICH LEHREN.'" "'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN'--ah, you look as if my pronunciation were not good." "I was not thinking of that; you pronounce very well. 'ICH WILL ALLES LERNEN--'"