were as crisp as the air
blowing down from the Alps, "you must permit me to give you a note of
introduction to my mother when you go to Berlin next week. I hope you
will find time to call on her."

Zottmyer's eyes snapped at this covert encouragement, although it was
rather forward in a German girl practically to ask a man his intentions.
"I shall be delighted to call on Frau Doermer--"

"Countess Niebuhr. I have practised a little innocent deception here in
Munich--for obvious reasons. Also, during my four years' sojourn in
America--"

"In America?" His brain, a fine, concentrated, Teutonic organ, strove to
grapple with two ideas at once. "You have been in America!"

"Rather. I feel half an American. You have no idea how it changed my
point of view--oh, but in many ways! The men, you see, are so different
from ours. The American woman has a magnificent position--"

"Ridiculous, uppish, spoilt creatures--"

"But how delicious to be spoiled. You will call on my mother?"

Zottmyer almost choked. "I hate the Prussians--above all, that arrogant
junker class. And the name of Niebuhr!--why, it stands for all that
junkerdom means in its most virulent form!"

"I am afraid it does. My brothers are junkers unalloyed. But I can
assure you that my mother is as democratic as one may be in Berlin. She
has quite a number of friends among the intellectuals--"

"Would she consent to your marriage with a--a--_mere_ intellectual?"

"What has that to do with it! It would never occur to me to marry
out of my own class. That is always a mistake. There are, you
see,--well--subtle differences that forbid harmony--"

"You are a snob. I might have seen it before this. You give yourself
airs--" He was now so torn between fury and disappointment,
mortification and Teutonic resentment at being obliged to diverge
abruptly from precisely thought-out tactics, that he forgot his
physical discomfort--and incidentally to use his handkerchief.

"A snob? When I am true to the best traditions of my race? Did you not
tell me that you would not marry a Venus if she happened to be born
outside of your own class? But it is rather cold here--not? Shall I send
the note of introduction to your flat?"

"I would not put my foot in any supercilious junker palace, and I never
wish to see you again!" He whirled about, burying his nose in his
handkerchief, and tore down the street.

Gisela laughed, but with little amusement. Her sympathy for German wome