Yolanda was Mary of Burgundy, thought I, and Max had been throwing away God-given opportunities.

Had she not seen Max from the battlements, and had she not fled at sight of the duke?
These two small facts were but scant evidence of Yolanda's royalty, but they seemed sufficient.
"What would you have me say, Karl ?" asked Max.

"You would not have me speak more than I have already said and win her love beyond her power to withdraw it.

That I sometimes believe I might do, but if my regard for her is true, I should not wish to bring unhappiness to her for the sake of satisfying my selfish vanity.

If I am not mistaken, a woman would suffer more than a man from such a misfortune." Here, truly, was a generous love.