After we entered the house Yolanda's laughter continued, and if it ceased for a moment it broke out again without a pretext. She was always pleased to see Max, and never failed to show her pleasure in laughter more or less; but Max's presence could hardly account for her high merriment and the satisfaction she seemed to feel, as if a great victory had been gained. My sense of utter defeat had nothing but Yolanda's peculiar conduct to comfort it. To the arbor we went, Yolanda carrying the hawk on her shoulder and caressing it with her cheek. In the garden, when our adventures were related, Yolanda, all excitement, could not keep her chair, but danced delightedly like a child and killed a score of imaginary herons. She stroked the falcon's wings, and when I said, "My lord the duke has graciously consented to accept the bird," she turned upon Max, exclaiming in mock anger:-- "The duke has graciously consented to accept the bird! I should think it required little grace to accept such a gift, though much to give it. Why don't you give the bird to me, Sir Max, if you are eager to part with it?" "I would gladly have given it to you, Fräulein," answered Max, "had I supposed you could use it on the duke's marshes. Only nobles practise the royal sport of falconry." Yolanda glanced quickly from Max to Castleman, turned her face to the bird upon her shoulder, and said, with a touch of dignity:-- "We receive small favors from court once in a while, don't we, uncle? We are not dirt under the nobles' feet, if we are plain burgher folk, are we, uncle?" "Don't you know, Fräulein, what great pleasure I should have taken in giving you the bird?" asked Max. Yolanda bent her head to one side, placed her cheek against the falcon's wing and pouted. Her pout was prettier even than her smile, and that is saying a great deal. After a few minutes Yolanda started to walk up the garden path and Max followed her, leaving the Castlemans and me under the arbor. Yolanda, still pouting, carried Caesar on her shoulder, lavishing caresses on the bird that excited Max's bitterest envy. Max spoke at intervals, but she answered only to the bird. After many futile efforts to make her speak, he said:-- "If you won't talk to me, I'll go back to the arbor." She turned to the bird: "We are willing, Caesar, aren't we--if he can go." Max laughed and started toward the arbor. "Tell him to come back, Caesar. Tell him to come back," exclaimed Yolanda.