“I did not,” retorted Yolanda, leaning forward and lifting her chin defiantly.  “I learned it soon after we reached Basel.  I discovered it by—­by magic—­by sorcery.  He will tell you as much.”

“By the magic of your eyes and smiles.  That’s the way you wheedled it out of him, and that’s the way you coax every one to your will,” said Castleman, laughing while Yolanda pouted.

“I never saw a girl make such eyes at a man as you made at this Sir Max,” said Twonette, who was waiting for her blue velvet gown.

“Twonette, you are prettier with your mouth shut.  Silence becomes you,” retorted Yolanda, favoring Twonette with a view of her back.  “Now, uncle,” continued Yolanda, “all is ready:  peacock, pheasants, wrens; and I command you to procure the guests.”

Castleman laughed at her imperious ways and said:—­

“I will obey your commands in all else, Yolanda, but not in this.”

The girl, who was more excited than she appeared to be, stood for a moment by her uncle’s side, and, drawing her kerchief from its pouch, placed it to her eyes.

“Every one tries to make me unhappy,” she sobbed.  “There is no one to whom I may turn for kindness.  If you will not do this for me, uncle, if you will not bring him—­them—­to me, I give you my sacred word I will go to them at the inn.  If you force me to do an act so unmaidenly, I’ll leave you and will not return to your house.  I shall know that you do not love me!”

Castleman was not ready to yield, though he was sure that in the end he would do so.  He also knew that her threat to go to the inn was by no means an idle word.

Yolanda was not given to tears, but she used them when she found she could accomplish her ends by no other means.  A long pause ensued, broken by Yolanda’s sobs.

“Good-by, uncle.  Good-by, tante.  Good-by, Twonette.  I mean what I say, uncle.  I am going, and I shall not come back if you will not do this thing for me.  I am going to the inn.”

She kissed them all and started toward the door.  The loving old tante could not hold out.  She, too, was weeping, and she added her supplications to Yolanda’s.

“Do what she asks, father—­only this once,” said Frau Kate.

“Only this once,” pleaded Yolanda, turning her tear-moistened eyes upon the helpless burgher.

“I suppose I must surrender,” exclaimed Castleman, rising from his chair.  “I have been surrendering to you, your aunt, and Twonette all my life.  First Kate, then Twonette, and of late years they have been reenforced by you, Yolanda, and my day is lost.  I do a little useless fighting when I know I am in the right, but it is always followed by a cowardly surrender.”

“But think of your victories in surrender, uncle.  Think of your rewards,” cried Yolanda, running to his side and kissing him.  “Many a man would fight a score of dragons for that kiss.”

“Dragons!” cried Castleman, protestingly.  “I would rather fight a hundred dragons than do this thing for you, Yolanda.  I know little concerning the ways of a girl’s heart, but, ignorant as I am, I could see—­Mother, I never saw a girl so infatuated with a man as our Yolanda is with this Sir Max—­this stranger.”