"I should call you a little mad if you didn't work so hard and with such a good heart." "Ah, well, if we enjoy our madness, pray let us remain so." Walther shook his head again, and walked away some distance where he stopped, and looked long at his new helper who toiled with uncommon diligence but who whistled and sang in a low but happy manner as he toiled.

A new thought was slowly making its way into his stolid brain.
A man might have a madness, and be none the worse for it.

Well, every one to his own madness.
John had heard from Ilse that Julie walked on the terrace twice every day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon, and he strove so to arrange his work that he might see her again that afternoon.

Knowing that he was already a favorite with Walther he made many suggestions.
This horse or that needed exercise, and one that had been a favorite with the prince before he had taken to the automobile, and that even now was often ridden by him, would be all the better for sun and air.
Walther agreed with him and John deftly postponed the time until about four o'clock, the warmest and brightest part of the afternoon, when he thought it most likely that Julie would come again.
He led the horse back and forth along a road that led from the stables to a forest hanging on the slope, being in sight of the terrace about half the way.

But the terrace was bare and it was not until he had made three or four turns that Julie with her following shadow, Suzanne, appeared.