nd to try it there was an
obstacle which her thoughtful cavalier had foreseen.

"Jufvrouw van Hout," he said as he pulled up, "do you remember that you
are still wearing skates?"

It was true, though in her agitation she had forgotten all about them,
and the fact put sudden flight out of the question. She could not
struggle into her own house walking on the sides of her feet like the
tame seal which old fisherman Hans had brought from northern seas. It
would be too ridiculous, and the servants would certainly tell the story
all about the town. Better for a while longer to put up with the company
of this odious Spaniard than to become a laughing stock in an attempt to
fly. Besides, even if she found herself on the other side of it, could
she shut the door in his face? Would her promise let her, and would he
consent?

"Yes," she answered briefly, "I will call my servant."

Then for the first time the Count became complimentary in a dignified
Spanish manner.

"Let no base-born menial hold the foot which it is an honour for an
hidalgo of Spain to touch. I am your servant," he said, and resting one
knee on the snow-covered step he waited.

Again there was nothing to be done, so Lysbeth must needs thrust out her
foot from which very delicately and carefully he unstrapped the skate.

"What Jack can bear Jill must put up with," muttered Lysbeth to herself
as she advanced the other foot. Just at that moment, however, the door
behind them began to open.

"She who buys," murmured Montalvo as he commenced on the second set of
straps. Then the door swung wide, and the voice of Dirk van Goorl was
heard saying in a tone of relief:

"Yes, sure enough it is she, Tante Clara, and some one is taking off her
boots."

"Skates, Senor, skates," interrupted Montalvo, glancing backward over
his shoulder, then added in a whisper as he bent once more to his task,
"ahem--_pays_. You will introduce me, is it not so? I think it will be
less awkward for you."

So, as flight was impossible, for he held her by the foot, and an
instinct told her that, especially to the man she loved, the only thing
to do was to make light of the affair, Lysbeth said--

"Dirk, Cousin Dirk, I think you know--this is--the Honourable Captain
the Count Juan de Montalvo."

"Ah! it is the Senor van Goorl," said Montalvo, pulling off the skate
and rising from his knee, which, from his excess of courtesy, was now
wet through. "Senor, allow me to return to you, s