“Hildegarde,” she said, tapping the shoulder which had been purposely turned towards her, “Hildegarde, will you introduce me to your Englishman? Crescenz says he is very clever; and you know I like clever people, and foreigners. But you must maneuvre a little, and not let him know that I particularly requested to make his acquaintance.”
“I never maneuvre,” replied Hildegarde, bluntly; “you might have known that by this time.”
“I did not just mean to say maneuvre; I only wished you to understand that you were to manage it so that he should not think I cared about the matter; in short, it ought to be a sort of chance introduction.”
“Will you by chance walk across the room with me?”
“Impossible!”
“Shall I call him over here by chance?”
“Call—no, not call; but look as if you expected him to come. He will be sure to understand.”
“He will not; for I do not expect him in the least. Crescenz could have told you that we are not on particularly good terms. You had better ask mamma.”
“Mein Gott! What a fuss the people make about this Englishman. I think you are all afraid of him. Crescenz certainly is.”
“I dislike him; but I am not afraid of him, as you shall see. Mr. Hamilton,” she called out distinctly, and Hamilton, though surprised, immediately approached her. Madame Berger shook her hand and the pocket handkerchief most playfully, and then took refuge on the sofa at some distance. Hildegarde followed, quietly explaining that Madame Berger wished to make his acquaintance, because he was a foreigner, and supposed to be clever. Hamilton smiled as he seated himself beside his new acquaintance, and in a few minutes they were evidently amusing each other so much that Crescenz observed it, and said, in a low voice, to her sister, “You were quite right, Hildegarde; Lina is a desperate flirt. Do look how she is laughing, and allowing Mr. Hamilton to admire her dress.”