Here Sophia, addressing her gazelle, said, “Master Jack Becker is a goose.”

Meantime Fritz was leaning on the back of Mary’s chair.

“Miss Wolston,” said he, “did you not tell me that you had brought Toby up, and that you were very fond of him?”

“Yes, Fritz.”

“Then it would be unfair in me to withdraw his allegiance from you now, and, consequently, I must refuse your present”

“But where would have been the merit of the gift if I did not hold him in some esteem?  Besides, I thought you were fond of Toby.”

“So I am, Miss Wolston.”

“Then you will not be indebted to me for anything—­I owe you much.”

“No such thing; you owe me nothing.”

“My life, then, is nothing?”

“Oh, I did not mean that; I must beg your pardon.”

“Which I will only grant on condition you accept my gift.”

“Well, if you insist upon it, I will.”

“I can see him as before; the only difference will be that you are his master, in all other respects he will belong to us both.”

“May I know what your knight-errant is saying to you, Mary?” inquired Mrs. Becker.

“Oh, I have been so angry with him; he was going to refuse my present.”

“That was very naughty of him, certainly.”

“He has, however, consented, like a dutiful squire, to obey my behests.”

“Yes, mother, Toby is henceforth to be divided between us.”

“Divided?”

“Yes; that is, he is to be nominally mine, but virtually to belong to us both.  Is it not so, Miss Wolston?”

“Yes, Master Fritz.”

On his side, Jack had approached Miss Sophia.

“So you won’t give me your gazelle?” he whispered.

“No, certainly not, Mr. Jack,” replied Sophia; “if you had saved my life, as Fritz saved my sister’s, I should then have had the right to make you a present.  But you know it is not my fault.”

“Nor mine either,” said Jack.

“Perhaps not; but if I had fallen into the sea, you would have allowed the sharks to swallow me, would you not?”

“I only wish we had been attacked by a hyena or a bear on our way to Waldeck.”

“God be thanked, that we were not!”

“Well, but look here, Miss Sophia; let me paint the scene.  You have fainted, as a matter of course, and fallen prostrate on the ground, insensible.”

“That is likely enough, if we had encountered one of the animals you mention.”

“Then I throw myself between you and the savage brute.”

“Supposing you were not half a mile off at the time.”

“No fear of that—­he rises, on his hind legs, and glares.”

“Is it a hyena or a bear?”

“Oh, whichever you like—­he opens his jaws, and growls.”

“Like the wolf at Little Red Riding Hood.”

“I plunge my arm down his throat and choke him.”

“Clever, very; but are you not wounded?”