“There’s the lamp!” exclaimed Madame Rosenberg, “and not broken! What do you say now, Rosenberg? I declare it burns better than usual;—the globe has been cleaned, eh, Crescenz?”
“Yes, Wally cleaned it a little; it was very dusty,” replied Crescenz, looking archly at Hamilton, and seeming to enjoy the equivocation.
Hildegarde blushed deeply, and walked into the next room.
Hamilton saw the blush, and looked after her, while Madame Berger whispered:
“Did you see that?—she is jealous of the praise bestowed on her sister.”
“Jealous! oh, no!” said Hamilton, still following her with his eyes.
“I beg your pardon!” cried Madame Berger; “I was not at all aware that I was speaking to an adorer; I really must go and tell her the conquest she has made.”
Perhaps she expected him to detain her, or she feared a rebuff from Hildegarde; for she waited a moment before she proceeded into the next room. Hamilton followed just in time to hear Hildegarde say:
“Pshaw! you are talking about what you don’t understand,” as she turned contemptuously away.
Madame Berger, to conceal her annoyance at Hildegarde’s imperturbability, turned to Crescenz, who had been placed next Major Stultz, at his particular request, in order to bring him luck. Her presence, however, not having produced the desired effect, he was told by Madame Rosenberg that those who were fortunate in love were always sure to be unfortunate at cards, which seemed to afford him great consolation; while Crescenz smiled and played with his counters and purse.