“The carriage is come! The carriage is come for Hamilton!” cried Peppy, rushing into the room; “and Count Zedwitz is coming up the stairs! and Crescenz is hiding behind the kitchen-door! and Walburg is gone with Gustle to school! and Dr. Berger is in Hildegarde’s room! and papa is putting on his coat! and he wants you to come to him!”
“Well, have you any more news to tell me before I go?” said his mother, taking up her bunch of keys from the breakfast-table. “Good-morning, Count Zedwitz—you must excuse me—Dr. Berger is here, and——”
“No one ill, I hope?” said Zedwitz.
“Hildegarde is ill,” replied Hamilton; “have you any objection to waiting until we hear what the Doctor says?”
“Quite the contrary,” said Zedwitz, sitting down, evidently alarmed.
“In the meantime, I can tell Hans to carry down my luggage,” said Hamilton.
Hans was despatched with the portmanteau, carpet-bag, and dressing-case; but Hamilton, instead of returning to his friend, watched until Madame Rosenberg and the Doctor had left Hildegarde’s room, and walked up the passage together. A moment after he was at her door, and had knocked.
“Come in,” said Hildegarde, almost gayly. “I am not so ill as you suppose!”
“I am very glad to hear it,” said Hamilton, entering as he spoke.
“I—I—expected papa,” said Hildegarde, blushing deeply.