“In Styria!” exclaimed Yolanda, laughing.  “You told me you were from Italy.”

“So I am,” I replied.

“Now you say we have an adage in Styria,” she returned, amused at my discomfiture.  “I hope you have not been wandering from the path of truth in your long journey, Sir Karl.”

“No farther than yourself, Fraeulein,” I answered.

A frown came instantly to her face and, after a moment’s hesitation, she retorted:—­

“Ah, but I am a woman; I am privileged to wander a little way from the narrow road.  A man may protect himself with his sword and battle-axe, and need never stray.  A woman’s defence lies in her wit and her tongue.”  The frown deepened, and she turned sharply upon me:  “But in what respect, pray, have I wandered?  I have not spoken a word to you which has not been the exact truth.  If I have left anything untold, it is because I do not wish to tell it, in which case, of course, you would not wish to pry.”

Her audacity amused me, and though I knew I ought to hold my tongue, I could not resist saying:—­

“I have asked no questions, Fraeulein.”

Yolanda cast a surprised glance toward me and then broke into a merry laugh.

“That is to say I have asked too many questions.  Good for you, Sir Karl!  I have had the worst of this encounter.  I will ask no more questions nor give you further cause to wander from the truth.  Your memory, Sir Karl, is poor.  ’To be a good liar, one must have a good memory,’ as King Louis of France has said.”

“Ask all the questions you wish, Fraeulein,” I responded penitently, “I will answer with the truth.”

“There is no need to ask questions,” she said, giving me a side glance full of sauciness.  “I already know all that I wish to know.”

I could not resist saying:—­

“Perhaps, Fraeulein, I know quite as much about you as you know about us.”

“There is little to know about me that is really worth while, but what little there is I sincerely hope you do not know,” she replied half angrily.  “If you do know anything which I have left untold, or if, in your vanity, you think you have discovered some great mystery concerning me, I advise you to keep your supposed knowledge to yourself.  The day that I am made sure you know too much, our friendship ceases, and that, Sir Karl, would give me pain.  I hope it would pain you.”

I at once began an orderly though hasty retreat.

“I do not know to what you refer concerning yourself,” I explained.  “All I know about you is that you are Fraeulein Castleman, and a very charming person, whom I would have for my friend, if that be possible.  I spoke but jestingly.  I have often doubted that you are a burgher maiden, but there my knowledge ceases; and I am willing that it should so remain till you see fit to enlighten me.”

“There is little knowledge in doubt,” said Yolanda, with a nervous laugh, “though a doubt usually precedes wisdom.”