Half an hour afterwards Hamilton was in the corridor, looking for his cane, which the children had mislaid. He turned into the nursery, and while rummaging there, Madame Rosenberg joined him, and hoped he had not found his coffee too cold.
“Coffee! no—yes! When, where did I drink it?”
“In your own room,” replied Madame Rosenberg, laughing. “Your memory must be very short; I sent it to you by Hildegarde, about half an hour ago.”
He looked inquiringly towards Hildegarde. She raised her eyes slowly from her work, and looking at him steadily and gravely, said in French:
“I threw it out of the window rather than take it to you.”
“Next time I advise you to drink it,” said Hamilton, laughing, as he left the room with Zedwitz. While descending the stairs, he observed:
“Well, that is the oddest girl I ever met—perfectly original. You have no idea how she amuses and interests me.”
“I can easily imagine it,” said Zedwitz, dryly.
“But you can not imagine how intensely she hates me.”
“That was what you desired, if I remember rightly; and for your sake I hope you continue as indifferent as formerly.”