“I wonder why you did not resign us,” said Hildegarde, bitterly.
“For two reasons,” replied Madame Rosenberg. “First, you were never to be allowed to see your father, and he did not like that part of the arrangement. Secondly, you were to be educated to become governesses, and were to remain at school until you were given a situation in some foreign family, as they only wanted to get you out of the way on account of the relationship. Now, I had a promise of one free place at the same school, and did not despair of working out the other, while by coming home for a time there was a chance of your marrying into the bargain. And I was right, for here is Crescenz well provided for, and if you continue to improve as you have done of late, I foresee that I shall not long have you on my hands either. But to return to this Count Raimund, Major—tell me all you know or have heard about him.”
“I have heard more than I can tell you at present,” said Major Stultz, mysteriously, “such things are not a proper subject of conversation before young ladies.” Crescenz blushed. Hildegarde threw herself back in her chair and laughed contemptuously, as Madame Rosenberg adjourned to the next room with Major Stultz. “This is the first time,” she said, looking after them, “the first time that I have seen him attempt to act the part of son-in-law.”
“He is acting as a friend,” said Hamilton, gravely.
“How do you know that?”
“Perhaps I have heard more of Count Raimund than you imagine.”
“And suppose you have,” said Hildegarde, folding her hands together and looking Hamilton steadily in the face; “suppose, even, you have heard all that can be said against him, what does it amount to? Failings, faults, if you will, which, as he himself said this evening, every young man has been guilty of——Have you, yourself, been so immaculate that you feel authorised to judge him?”
Hamilton blushed deeply, but did not answer.
“I know,” continued Hildegarde, with increased warmth, “I know you think yourself superior to other people, but your present confusion proves that you have your weaknesses, too, with this difference, that you the while pretend to be a pattern of perfection, and others honestly confess their faults!”
“Oh, Hildegarde!” cried Crescenz, deprecatingly.