A long pause followed; then Max continued: "I hope you will soon do so. He might write of--of--" He did not finish the sentence. I allowed him to remain in thought while I formulated my reply. After a time I said:-- "If you are still interested in the lady, why don't you go to Burgundy and try to win her?" "That would be impossible," he answered. "No, no, Max," I returned, "not impossible--- difficult, perhaps, but certainly not impossible." "Ah, Karl, you but raise false hopes," he responded dolefully. "You could at least see her," I returned, ignoring his protest, "and that, I have been told, is much comfort to a lover!" "Indeed, it would be," said Max, frankly admitting the state of his heart. "Or it might be that if you saw her, the illusion would be dispelled." "I have little fear of that," he returned. "It is true," I continued, "her father's domains are the richest on earth. He is proud and powerful, noble and arrogant; but you are just as proud and just as noble as he. You are penniless, and your estate will be of little value; your father is poor, and his mountain crags are a burden rather than a profit; but all Europe boasts no nobler blood than that of your house. Lift it from its penury. You are worthy of this lady, were her estates multiplied tenfold. Win the estates, Max, and win the lady. Many a man with half your capacity has climbed to the pinnacle of fame and fortune, though starting with none of your prestige. Why do you, born a mountain lion, stay mewed up in this castle like a purring cat in your mother's lap? For shame, Max, to waste your life when love, fortune, and fame beckon you beyond these dreary hills and call to you in tones that should arouse ambition in the dullest breast." "Duke Charles has already insulted us," he replied. "But his daughter has not," I answered quickly. "That is true," returned Max, with a sigh, "but the Duke of Burgundy would turn me from his gates."