"Ach, you are onfair," exclaimed the Baron.

"Really ?" said Eva, with a sarcastic intonation he had not believed possible in so sweet a voice.
It was the day following the luncheon at Lincoln Lodge, and they were once more seated in the shady arbor: this time the Count had guaranteed not only to leave them uninterrupted by his own presence, but to protect the garden from all other intruders.

Everything, in fact, had presaged the pleasantest of tete-a-tetes.

But, alas! the Baron was learning that if Amaryllis pouts, the shadiest corner may prove too warm.

Why, he was asking himself, should she exhibit this incomprehensible annoyance?
What had he done?
How to awake her smiles again?
"I do not forget my old friends so quickly," he protested.