Before he had time to speak, a voice quite close to her answered for him.
“You have startled me,” cried Hildegarde, “I thought you were at the foot of the stairs.”
Not a little surprised to find himself in the presence of a second self, he stood still to hear what would follow.
“How did you happen to be separated from us?” asked Hildegarde.
“Met some friends at the church door, and stopped to speak to them,” replied the voice in French.
“You must be completely wet!”
“Not at all.”
Hildegarde laughed.
“You do not believe me! Feel my arm—not even damp!”
A pause ensued—perhaps the arm was felt—the midnight representative lowered his voice and spoke eagerly. Hamilton advanced a few steps and heard the concluding words—“Surely, surely, if you consider me a friend, you will let me know the true state of the case. Is it friendship for Mademoiselle de Hoffmann that makes you of late avoid your cousin with, I may say, such exaggerated care?”