Hamilton bowed with apparent indifference; but all that Zedwitz had said of Count Raimund flashed across his mind; he now felt convinced that there was no doubt of his gaining admittance to the Rosenberg family, and on the most dangerous footing possible—as cousin! He himself knew from experience all the advantages of this relationship, and the unreserved intimacy which it permitted; and though he tried to convince himself that Count Raimund, being already engaged to Mademoiselle de Hoffmann, would have neither time nor opportunity to pay Hildegarde extraordinary attention, a feeling of incipient jealousy, to which, however, he gave in thought the name of disinterested friendship, took possession of his mind, and he turned with something more than curiosity, to examine this cousin, this Raimund, said to be so dangerous. He was a slight young man with rather regular features, his mouth alone remarkably handsome, though his lips were, perhaps, too red and full for a man, his eyes light blue, hair and moustache remarkably fair; his complexion, which varied with every passing emotion, sometimes almost pale, sometimes sanguine, gave an appearance of perpetual animation to a countenance which would otherwise have, perhaps, failed to interest at first sight. He immediately addressed Hamilton, spoke of England, hunting, horses, races—of English customs and sports, with such correctness that Hamilton could not help exclaiming, “You must have been a long time in England to understand these things so well!”
“My information is altogether acquired from reading,” replied Raimund, smiling, and evidently flattered at Hamilton’s remark; either encouraged by it, or the approving smiles of his companions, he gave a description of races in different countries, from the most ancient to the present day, discovering considerable information, well applied, but brought it forward with such ill-concealed arrogance that Hamilton, already predisposed to dislike him, was soon disgusted, and taking advantage of the first pause and some confusion among the bystanders, he suddenly and violently checked his horse, threw him on his haunches, and backing him out of the crowd, galloped across the field. The races began, and although the horses did not promise much, it was impossible not to feel in some degree interested; he crossed the field several times at full speed, and in doing so he passed and repassed the carriage in which Hildegarde sat, when having met some Englishmen with whom he was slightly acquainted, he began to talk to them not very far distant from her.
“My fair cousin follows with her eyes, and rather seems to admire her English friend,” said Raimund with a laugh. “He certainly is handsome, but I never saw more haughty manners or prouder looks in my life. How does he contrive to get on with step-mamma?”
“Exceedingly well,” answered Hildegarde. “She gives him occasional lectures on his extravagant habits, which he receives with the most perfect good temper; but they do not seem to have much effect. I rather think his parents must be very rich, although he never speaks on the subject, for they send him large sums of money, which he leaves at his banker’s, as he says, with the best intentions possible he can find no opportunity of spending it.”
“It seems the lectures on extravagance were scarcely necessary,” observed Raimund, with a slight sneer; “from your account, he is more disposed to hoard than spend.”
“And yet he is really generous,” cried Hildegarde, warmly. “Mr. Biedermann, who is giving him lessons in German, says that he has been munificent to him; and I know that he gave old Hans, only the other day, a complete suit of clothes for the winter, to keep him warm when he is sawing wood in the yard; not to mention a great many occurrences in our house, where, had he not been disposed to give, he would have acted quite differently.”
“You are eloquent in his praise,” said Mademoiselle de Hoffmann, “and will force me to think well of him; though, to tell the truth, I feel half inclined to agree with Oscar in thinking him proud. It is true, I have only seen him for a few minutes, and on a very restive horse; but the glance which he bestowed upon us all was more scrutinising than agreeable, and he certainly did appear to have a tolerably good opinion of himself.”
“I cannot dispute that point,” replied Hildegarde, laughing; “but I wish to do him justice when I can, as I am only by degrees getting over an inveterate dislike which I took to him at first sight, without any reasonable cause.”
“So,” exclaimed Raimund, “if that be the case, I am satisfied. It must, however, be extremely disagreeable to have such a Don Magnifico forced into one’s domestic circle. I wonder your father did not rebel; but of course he must do whatever your mother chooses.”
“Oh! papa, mamma, and Crescenz liked him from the first,” said Hildegarde. “I was the only person who quarrelled with him, because I imagined that he was laughing at us, or seeking amusement at our expense, while he considered himself far, far above us. On a nearer acquaintance, it is impossible not to think him agreeable, clever, and, I must say, perfectly unaffected.”