So we passed on from Konigswinter to Coblenz, and from Coblenz to Heidelberg, and from Heidelberg south to Freiburg, where we bade adieu to the last of the towns, and laid hold of a trap with a pair of ancient and angular horses, and plunged into the Hollenthal, the first great gorge of the Black Forest mountains.  From one point to another we slowly urged our devious course, walking the most of the day, indeed, and putting the trap and ourselves up for the night at some quaint roadside hostelry, where we ate of roe-deer and drank of Affenthaler, and endeavoured to speak German with a pure Waldshut accent.  And then, one evening, when the last rays of the sun were shining along the hills and touching the stems of the tall pines, we drove into a narrow valley and caught sight of a large brown building of wood, with projecting eaves and quaint windows, that stood close by the forest.

“Here is my dear inn!” cried Tita, with a great glow of delight and affection in her face.  “Here is mein gutes Thal!  Ich gruss’ dich ein tausend Mal! And here is old Peter come out to see us; and there is Franziska!”

“Oh, this is Franziska, is it?” said Charlie.

Yes, this was Franziska.  She was a well-built, handsome girl of nineteen or twenty, with a healthy, sunburnt complexion, and dark hair plaited into two long tails, which were taken up and twisted into a knot behind.  That you could see from a distance.  But on nearer approach you found that Franziska had really fine and intelligent features, and a pair of frank, clear, big brown eyes that had a very straight look about them.  They were something of the eyes of a deer, indeed; wide apart, soft, and apprehensive, yet looking with a certain directness and unconsciousness that overcame her natural girlish timidity.  Tita simply flew at her and kissed her heartily and asked her twenty questions at once.  Franziska answered in very fair English, a little slow and formal, but quite grammatical.  Then she was introduced to Charlie, and she shook hands with him in a simple and unembarrassed way; and then she turned to one of the servants and gave some directions about the luggage.  Finally she begged Tita to go indoors and get off her travelling attire, which was done, leaving us two outside.

“She’s a very pretty girl,” Charlie said, carelessly.  “I suppose she’s sort of head cook and kitchen-maid here.”

The impudence of these young men is something extraordinary.

“If you wish to have your head in your hands,” I remarked to him, “just you repeat that remark at dinner.  Why, Franziska is no end of a swell.  She has two thousand pounds and the half of a mill.  She has a sister married to the Geheimer-Ober-Hofbaurath of Hesse-Cassel.  She had visited both Paris and Munich, and she has her dresses made in Freiburg.”

“But why does such an illustrious creature bury herself in this valley, and in an old inn, and go about bareheaded?”