“Secret reason!” he exclaimed; “what can you mean? I am utterly at a loss to——”
“Come, Max, you must greatly underrate my intellect or powers of observation, if you imagine that I have not seen what has been going on for the last three weeks.”
“Going on?” he repeated.
“Yes, going on. You have been paying the most marked attentions to one of those Rosenbergs——”
“Which of them?” he asked, with an effort to look unconcerned.
His sister laughed and said, “Confess honestly, Max, for if you really are in love, I think I must forgive your neglect.”
“Thank you, dear. You know I once forgave you the same offence when proceeding from the same cause.”
“It is unnecessary,” she said, glancing towards Hamilton, and growing perceptibly paler; “it is unkind to remind me so lightly of the most painful event of my life.”
She was about to leave them, when her brother seized her hand, saying eagerly, “Stay, you dear good creature, and forgive me. I quite forgot that Hamilton was present, but never mind him—pray stay. I confess that I am desperately in love with Hildegarde Rosenberg, and I want you to tell my mother, and ask her to give me her assistance and advice.”
His mother, of course, had heard what he had said, and now answered, quickly, “Assistance, Max, you cannot expect from me; my advice is, that you return to Munich to-morrow.”