Annie said nothing.  She sat very still.

“No, I don’t like you.  I love you,” said Von Rosen.

“How can you?  You have talked with me only twice.”

“That makes no difference with me.  Does it with you?”

“No,” said Annie, “but I am not at all sure about—­”

“About what, dear?”

“About what my aunts and grandmother will say.”

“Do you think they will object to me?”

“No-o.”

“What is it makes you doubtful?  I have a little fortune of my own.  I have an income besides my salary.  I can take care of you.  They can trust you to me.”

Annie looked at him with a quick flush of resentment.  “As if I would even think of such a thing as that!”

“What then?”

“You will laugh, but grandmother is very old, although she sits up so straight, and she depends on me, and—­”

“And what?”

“If I married you, I could not, of course, play pinocle with grandmother on Sunday.”

“Oh, yes, you could.  I most certainly should not object.”

“Then that makes it hopeless.”

Von Rosen looked at her in perplexity.  “I am afraid I don’t understand you, dear little soul.”

“No, you do not.  You see, grandmother is in reality very good, almost too good to live, and thinking she is being a little wicked playing pinocle on Sunday when Aunt Harriet and Aunt Susan don’t know it, sort of keeps her going.  I don’t just know why myself, but I am sure of it.  Now the minute she was sure that you, who are the minister, did not object, she would not care a bit about pinocle and it would hurt her.”

Annie looked inconceivably young.  She knitted her candid brows and stared at him with round eyes of perplexity.  Karl von Rosen shouted with laughter.

“Oh, well, if that is all,” he said, “I object strenuously to your playing pinocle with your grandmother on Sunday.  The only way you can manage will be to play hookey from church.”

“I need not do that always,” said Annie.  “My aunts take naps Sunday afternoons, but I am sure grandmother could keep awake if she thought she could be wicked.”

“Well, you can either play hookey from church, or run away Sunday afternoons, or if you prefer and she is able, I will drive your grandmother over here and you can play pinocle in my study.”

“Then I do think she will live to be a hundred,” said Annie with a peal of laughter.

“Stop laughing and kiss me,” said Von Rosen.

“I seldom kiss anybody.”

“That is the reason.”

When Annie looked up from her lover’s shoulder, a pair of topaz eyes were mysteriously regarding her.

“The cat never saw me kiss anybody,” said Von Rosen.

“Do you think the cat knows?” asked Annie, blushing and moving away a little.

“Who knows what any animal knows or does not know?” replied Von Rosen.  “When we discover that mystery, we may have found the key to existence.”