Yolanda was not for Max.

He could not control his heart; it took its inheritance of unbidden passion from a thousand scores of generations which had lived and died and learned their lesson centuries before the House of Hapsburg began; but he could control his lips and his acts.
With Max's growing love for Yolanda came a knightly reverence which was the very breath of the chivalry that he had sworn to uphold.

This spirit of reverence the girl was quick to observe, and he lost nothing by it in her esteem.

At times I could see that this reverential attitude of Max almost sobered her spirits; to do so completely would have been as impossible as to dam the current of a mountain stream.
On the evening of our first day out of Basel we were merrily eating our suppers in a village where we had halted for the night, when I remarked that I had met a man, while strolling near the river, who had said that war was imminent between Burgundy and Switzerland.

My remark immediately caught Yolanda's sharp attention.
"Yes," said I, "we left Switzerland none too soon.