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Tita laid down her book. She was a little anxious. Sometimes you could see Charlie and Franziska on the path by the side of the lake; at other times the thick trees by the water’s side hid them.

The solitary oar dipped in the lake; the boat glided along the shores. Tita took up her book again. The space of time that passed may be inferred from the fact that, merely as an incident to it, we managed to catch a chub of four pounds. When the excitement over this event had passed, Tita said:

“We must go back to them. What do they mean by not coming on and telling us? It is most silly of them.”

We went back by the same side of the lake, and we found both Franziska and her companion seated on the bank at the precise spot where we had left them. They said it was the best place for the picnic. They asked for the hamper in a businesslike way. They pretended they had searched the shores of the lake for miles.

And while Tita and Franziska are unpacking the things, and laying the white cloth smoothly on the grass, and pulling out the bottles for Charlie to cool in the lake, I observe that the younger of the two ladies rather endeavours to keep her left hand out of sight. It is a paltry piece of deception. Are we moles, and blinder than moles, that we should continually be made the dupes of these women? I say to her:

“Franziska, what is the matter with your left hand?”

“Leave Franziska’s left hand alone,” says Tita, severely.

“My dear,” I reply, humbly, “I am afraid Franziska has hurt her left hand.”

At this moment Charlie, having stuck the bottles among the reeds, comes back, and, hearing our talk, he says, in a loud and audacious way:

“Oh, do you mean the ring? It’s a pretty little thing I had about me, and Franziska has been good enough to accept it. You can show it to them, Franziska.

Of course he had it about him. Young men always do carry a stock of ruby rings with them when they go fishing, to put in the noses of the fish. I have observed it frequently.

Franziska looks timidly at Tita, and then she raises her hand, that trembles a little. She is about to take the ring off to show it to us when Charlie interposes:

“You needn’t take it off, Franziska.”

And with that, somehow, the girl slips away from among us, and Tita is with her, and we don’t get a glimpse of either of them until the solitude resounds with our cries for luncheon.

In due time Charlie returned to London, and to Surrey with us in very good spirits. He used to come down very often to see us; and one evening at dinner he disclosed the fact that he was going over to the Black Forest in the following week, although the November nights were chill just then.

“And how long do you remain?”

“A month,” he says.

“Madam,” I say to the small lady at the other end of the table,” a month from now will bring us to the 4th of December. You have lost the bet you made last Christmas morning; when will it please you to resign your authority?”

“Oh, bother the bet,” says this unscrupulous person.

“But what do you mean?” says Charlie.

“Why,” I say to him, “she laid a wager last Christmas Day that you would not be married within a year. And now you say you mean to bring Franziska over on the 4th of December next. Isn’t it so?”

“Oh, no!” he says; “we don’t get married till the spring.”

You should have heard the burst of low, delightful laughter with which Queen Tita welcomed this announcement. She had won her wager.