A friend would advise you: Never lose a chance to laugh, even though it be at your own expense.

There will always be opportunity to grieve and be gloomy.

I tell you frankly, Sir Max, I almost wept when I bade you good-by at Metz.

Now, I am telling you my state secret and am giving you more than you have asked." Max joyfully interrupted her:-- "I can forgive you all your raillery, Fraeulein, for that admission." "Yes, I confess it is a very important admission," she said, in half-comic seriousness, "but you see, I really did weep when I parted from my great mastiff, Caesar, at Peronne." The saucy turn was made so quickly that its humor took Max unawares, and he laughed.
"There, there! Sir Max, there is hope for you," she cried exultantly.
Then she continued, stealing a side glance at him, "I loved Caesar very, very much." There was a satisfying implication in her laughing words, owing to the fact that she had almost wept at Metz.

Max was eager to take advantage of the opportunity her words gave him, for his caution was rapidly oozing away; but he had placed a seal on his lips, and they were shut--at least, for the time.