"Y-e-s," she answered hesitatingly, "I will be your wife if--if I can, and if you will take me when you learn who I am. There is no taint of disgrace about me, Max," she added quickly, in response to the look of surprise on his face. "But I am not worthy of you, and I fear that if your father but knew my unworthiness, he would refuse his consent to our marriage. You must not tell him of my boldness. I will tell you all about myself before you leave for Styria, and then, if you do not want me, you may leave me to--to die." "I shall want you, Yolanda. I shall want you. Have no doubt of that," he answered. "With the assurance that there is no stain or taint upon me or my family, do you give me your word, Max, that you will want me and will take me, whoever I am, and will not by word or gesture show me that you are angry or that you regret your promise?" "I gladly give you that promise," answered Max. "Did you ever tell a lie, Little Max?" she asked banteringly, "or did you ever deliberately break a promise?" "Did I ever steal or commit wilful murder?" asked Max, withdrawing his arm. "No, Max; now put it back again," she said. After a long pause she continued:-- "I have lied." Max laughed and drew her to him. "Your lies will harm no one," he said joyously. "No," she responded, "I only lie that good may come of it." Then silence fell upon the world--their world. Was not that hour with Max worth all the pains that Yolanda had taken to deceive him? Yolanda and Max came down to the long room, and she, too, gave me her cheek to kiss. Twonette had prepared a great tankard of wine and honey, with pepper and allspice to suit Yolanda's taste, and we all sat before the great blazing yule fire, as joyful and content as any six people in Christendom. Twonette and Yolanda together occupied one large chair; Twonette serenely allowing herself to be caressed by Yolanda, who was in a state of mind that compelled her to caress some one. Gentle Frau Kate was sleeping in a great easy chair near the chimney-corner. Max sat at one side of the table,--the side nearest Yolanda,--while Castleman and I sat by each other within easy reach of the wine. I knew without the telling, all that had occurred upstairs, and the same light seemed to have fallen upon the Castlemans. Good old George was in high spirits, and I could see in his eye that he intended to get drunk and, if possible, to bring me, also, to that happy condition. After many goblets of wine, he remarked:-- "The king of France will probably be upon us within a fortnight after he hears the sad news from Nancy." Yolanda immediately sat upright in her chair, abandoning Twonette's soft hand and softer cheek. "Why do you believe so, uncle?" she asked nervously. "Because he has waited all his life for this untoward event to happen." "Preparations should be made to receive him," said Yolanda.