Mrs Thistleton's Princess by Antonio Hope

So Fräulein -- she soon came to be called just "Fräulein" -- was not at my dinner-party; but two or three weeks later I had a little talk with her.

I went up to the Manor one afternoon in October, seeking a game of croquet with Bessie Thistleton -- such are our mild delights at Southam Parva -- but found the whole family gone off to a Primrose League bazaar at Beechington. Only Fräulein was at home, said the parlour-maid; and Fräulein was visible in the garden, sitting under a tree, turning over the leaves of a big book. I used the privilege of a friend of the house, strolled out on to the lawn, and raised my hat to the -- I mean to Fräulein. She smiled brightly and beckoned to me to come and sit by her; her words were beyond reproach, but her gestures were sometimes obstinately un-Fräuleinish, if I may so express myself. I sat down in the other deck-chair and said that it was very fine for so late in the year.