Every girl he’d ever known—American or German—who was even halfway attractive seemed so preoccupied with and cognizant of it and behaved as though trying to impress the fact upon those around her. You could see it instantly, in everything about their carriage—from tone of voice to body language to a dozen tiny mannerisms—whether outright flirtatious or not. But Sabina, as pretty as she was, seemed utterly oblivious to her looks and completely unconcerned about what others might think of her.

“I’m surprised you’re here talking with me,” Sabina said after a moment. “As you can see, every other young man at the party is in a circle around my cousin.”

“Maybe I’ve got different tastes than the rest of them.”

“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. I like you already!”

This girl is certainly one to speak her mind! thought Matthew. Most Germans did nothing but talk about the weather the first time you met them. Getting personal with a stranger, or expressing personal thoughts or feelings, was not something Europeans did. Yet here was someone speaking openly and frankly almost immediately.

“Would you… uh, like to go get something to eat?” he asked, trying to say something to divert the conversation away from himself.

“Sure, that would be nice,” she answered.

They made their way toward one of the nearby tables. Matthew picked up another two or three of the miniature sandwiches and a glass of fruit juice, Sabina a glass of sparkling water. They walked casually across the expansive lawn. A small goldfish pond lay in front of them. Most of the other guests remained clustered around the patio of the summerhouse and refreshment tables.

“Are you and your cousin friends?” asked Matthew, curious to find out more about this young lady. This was not the kind of girl you fell in love with, but the kind of person you simply found yourself wanting to know!

“No more than any two cousins, I suppose,” replied Sabina. “We have known one another all our life, and we played dolls together when we were young. But close… I would not say that.”

“How are you and she related?”

“My father and her father, my uncle Otto, are brothers. They both grew up where we live in the country, but Uncle Otto preferred the fast pace of the city. Brigitte is just the same. She loves the city and crowds, parties and bright lights, ballrooms and fancy dresses.”

“And you, what do you love?” asked Matthew.

“I am almost embarrassed to tell you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. There’s no good reason. It’s just that so few people our age understand.”

“People like your cousin Brigitte?”

“Yes,” laughed Sabina. “She doesn’t understand.”

“Well, try me, and see if perhaps I can.”

“All right then, I will. Let me see… I love the country. I love wide open spaces where I can be alone.”