“It is odd enough, I thought of it too,” said Hamilton; “the tiger attacked by the two leopards; the lion rising to join in the combat—I saw it all in imagination—fancied myself the Knight Delorges, and looked round to see if no Cunigunde were there to throw her glove amid the combatants.”
“Did you think of any particular person as Cunigunde?” asked Crescenz, softly, and with a slight blush.
“Perhaps I did,” replied Hamilton, laughing.
“Oh, I should like so much to know whom you thought of! Should not you, Hildegarde?”
“If Mr. Hamilton wish to tell——” began Hildegarde.
“I prefer walking up the hill into the town,” said Hamilton, springing out of the open side of the carriage.
“Let us all walk,” cried Madame Rosenberg, desiring the coachman to stop; “my feet are quite cramped.”
Hamilton had hoped to escape further questioning, but Crescenz commenced again as they walked along together.
“Your avoidance of my question has raised my curiosity, and you positively must tell me of whom you thought in the riding-school, to-day.”
“Pray, Crescenz,” said Hildegarde, “do not force Mr. Hamilton to give an answer; it must be totally uninteresting to you—remember the number of acquaintances he must have in England whose names are unknown to us.”