You may suppose, if these two young folk had any regard for each other, those evenings in the inn must have been a pleasant time for them.  There were never two partners at whist who were so courteous to each other, so charitable to each other’s blunders.  Indeed, neither would ever admit that the other blundered.  Charlie used to make some frightful mistakes occasionally that would have driven any other player mad; but you should have seen the manner in which Franziska would explain that he had no alternative but to take her king with his ace, that he could not know this, and was right in chancing that.  We played three-penny points, and Charlie paid for himself and his partner, in spite of her entreaties.  Two of us found the game of whist a profitable thing.

One day a registered letter came for Charlie.  He seized it, carried it to a window, and then called Tita to him.  Why need he have any secret about it?  It was nothing but a ring—­a plain hoop with a row of rubies.

“Do you think she would take this thing?” he said, in a low voice.

“How can I tell?”

The young man blushed and stammered, and said: 

“I don’t want you to ask her to take the ring, but to get to know whether she would accept any present from me.  And I would ask her myself plainly, only you have been frightening me so much about being in a hurry.  And what am I to do?  Three days hence we start.”

Tita looked down with a smile and said, rather timidly: 

“I think if I were you I would speak to her myself—­but very gently.”

We were going off that morning to a little lake some dozen miles off to try for a jack or two.  Franziska was coming with us.  She was, indeed, already outside, superintending the placing in the trap of our rods and bags.  When Charlie went out she said that everything was ready; and presently our peasant driver cracked his whip, and away we went.

Charlie was a little grave, and could only reply to Tita’s fun with an effort.  Franziska was mostly anxious about the fishing, and hoped that we might not go so far to find nothing.

We found few fish anyhow.  The water was as still as glass, and as clear; the pike that would have taken our spinning bits of metal must have been very dull-eyed pike indeed.  Tita sat at the bow of the long punt reading, while our boatman steadily and slowly plied his single oar.  Franziska was for a time eagerly engaged in watching the progress of our fishing, until even she got tired of the excitement of rolling in an immense length of cord, only to find that our spinning bait had hooked a bit of floating wood or weed.  At length Charlie proposed that he should go ashore and look out for a picturesque site for our picnic, and he hinted that perhaps Miss Franziska might also like a short walk to relieve the monotony of the sailing.  Miss Franziska said she would be very pleased to do that.  We ran them in among the rushes, and put them ashore, and then once more started on our laborious career.