“Stop—stop—my dear, I understand you now—Theodor is not tall enough to please you—he ought to have dark hair, black eyes, long eyelashes, and a pale complexion, all very interesting no doubt, but people answering to this description cannot always write verses, or sing to the guitar; and I can tell you that Mr. Hamilton can neither do one nor the other. Your sentimental love and admiration are all thrown away on him, Cressy; he does not think of you, and the sooner you put him out of your little head the better.”
“You are unkind, Lina!”
“And you still more so, Crescenz, to disparage poor Theodor so unnecessarily.”
“But he is nothing to you now?”
“Oh, of course not—and still I must always have a very sincere regard for him—he, poor soul, is as desperate about me as ever! Heigho! I must confess, I half feared he would waver in his allegiance when I heard that he came here every day. Men are so fickle!”
“Why, surely, you did not think that I——”
“Oh, not at all, my dear—you are engaged, you know, so I never thought of you, but Hildegarde——”
“I can tell you, Hildegarde would never think of him,” cried Crescenz, triumphantly.
“Nor he of her, I assure you,” said Madame Berger; “he will scarcely allow her to be handsome!”
“Well, to be sure!” said Crescenz. “That does surprise me. I never heard of anyone who did not think Hildegarde handsome!”