“No, no,” she answered laughingly, “I am not a sorceress.”

“You almost made me believe you were,” said Max, “but I am slow of wit, as you have doubtless observed.  I told Sir Karl you said you were a sorceress, and he said—­”

“You gave me your word you would not tell!” exclaimed Yolanda.

“Neither did I tell aught save that you said you were a sorceress.  He laughed and said—­”

“Yes, yes, what did he say?” eagerly queried the girl.

“He said—­I am sure you will not take amiss what he said?” responded Max.

“No, no, indeed no!  Tell me,” she demanded eagerly.

“He said you were a witch, if brown eyes, dimpling smiles, and girlish beauty could make one,” answered Max.

“Ah, did he say that of me?” asked the girl, musingly.  After a pause she continued, “That was kind in Sir Karl and—­and evidently sincere.”  After another pause devoted to revery she said:  “Perhaps I shall be his friend sometime in a manner he little expects.  Even the friendship of a helpless burgher girl is not to be despised.  But he is wrong.  I am not beautiful,” she poutingly continued.  “Now let us examine my face.”  She laughed, and settled herself contentedly upon the stone, as if to take up a serious discussion.  “I often do so in the mirror.  Vain?  Of course I am!”

“I am only too willing to examine it,” said Max, laughingly.

“My mouth,” she said, pursing her lips and lifting her face temptingly for his inspection, “my mouth is—­”

“Perfect,” interrupted Max.

She looked surprised and said, “Ah, that was nicely spoken, Little Max, and quickly, for you.”

“’Little Max’!” exclaimed the young man.  “Where heard you that name?  No one save my mother has ever used it; no one but Karl and my father has ever heard her speak the words.  Did Karl tell you of it?”

“Karl did not tell me,” she responded, “and I never heard any one speak the name.  The name fits you so well—­by contraries—­that it came to me, perhaps, by inspiration.”

“That hardly seems possible,” returned Max, “and your knowledge of how I received the ring is more than remarkable.”

“Let us talk about my face,” said the girl, full of the spirit of mischief, and wishing to put off the discussion of the ring.  “Now, my eyes, of which Sir Karl spoke so kindly, are—­”

“The most wonderful in the world,” interrupted Max.  “They are brilliant as priceless jewels, fathomless as deep water, gentle and tender as—­”

“There, there, Little Max,” she cried, checking with a gesture his flow of unexpected eloquence.  “I declare! you are not so slow as you seem.  I will tell you just how much of a sorceress I am.  I thought to flatter you by saying a great lady had given you the ring, and lo, I was right unless you are adroitly leading me to believe in my own sorcery.  Is she a great lady?  Come, tell me the story.”

She unconsciously moved nearer to him with an air of pleasant anticipation.