That was why I would never shake hands with
Lord Coombe when I was a little child."
"You think Fraulein Hirsch knows the Baron?" Mademoiselle inquired
further.
"I am sure she does. Several times, when she has gone out to walk
with me, we have met him. Sometimes he only passes us and salutes,
but sometimes he stops and says a few words in a stiff, magnificent
way. But he always bores his eyes into mine, as if he were finding
out things about me which I don't know myself. He has passed
several times when you have been with me, but you may not remember."
Mademoiselle Valle chanced, however, to recall having observed
the salute of a somewhat haughty, masculine person, whose military
bearing in itself was sufficient to attract attention, so markedly
did it suggest the clanking of spurs and accoutrements, and the
high lift of a breast bearing orders.
"He is Count von Hillern, and I wish he would stay in Germany,"
said Robin.
Fraulein Hirsch had not been one of those who returned hastily to
her own country, giving no warning of her intention to her employers.
She had remained in London and given her lessons faithfully. She
was a plain young woman with a large nose and pimpled, colourless
face and shy eyes and manner. Robin had felt sure that she stood
in awe of the rank and military grandeur of her fellow countryman.
She looked shyer than ever when he condescended to halt and address
her and her charge--so shy, indeed, that her glances seemed furtive.
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