The Zedwitzes were profuse in their thanks to Hamilton, and used all their eloquence to induce him to return with them to Edelhof; no argument, however, could prevail on him to quit Munich. Before Zedwitz left, he gave Hamilton the assurance that he had not been in the Rosenbergs’ house on Christmas Eve. “If you require proof,” he added, “I can give it. You may remember I told you that I felt very ill. Could a man in the state I was then in think of such mummeries? besides, when we parted, I went home, that is, to our house in —— Street, changed my clothes, which were wet, and drank some wine. You can inquire of our old housekeeper.”
“It is quite unnecessary,” said Hamilton. “I should rather apologise for having thought you capable of such conduct, even in joke. Hildegarde did not for a moment suspect you, although she had heard her cousin’s denial.”
“Excellent girl!—she did me but justice. Much as I should like to know her feelings towards me, I never, even if I had an opportunity, would resort to such means of obtaining information.”
“And what do you think of this denial of Raimund’s?” asked Hamilton.
The carriage rolled to the door. Hamilton assisted his friend down the narrow staircase. “What do you mean to do with yourself until you are allowed to return to the Rosenbergs?” asked the latter as he pressed heavily on his arm.
“I shall buy another horse and a sledge. If the snow last, I rather expect some amusement.”
Arrived in the street, Zedwitz was obliged to lean exhausted against the house. He was with great difficulty lifted into the carriage, and as he sank back into the corner, his languid eyes turned slowly to the windows of the opposite house. Crescenz and her brothers were looking out. Hildegarde was not visible; he slightly touched his cap and turned away. His mother and sister were making a final effort to induce Hamilton to remove to Edelhof or Lengheim. Zedwitz saw the uselessness of their endeavours, and calling Hamilton to his side, whispered, “If you should be ill, remember your promise to send for me directly.” He then placed his hands on his shoulders, and kissed him on both sides of his face. Completely abashed by this proceeding, Hamilton blushed excessively, and stammered a few incoherent words as the carriage drove off.
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE DISCUSSION.
“Oh, Hildegarde!” cried Crescenz, pushing back her work-table in order to be able to see better from the window. “Oh, Hildegarde—look, look! There is Mr. Hamilton driving such a beautiful sledge up our street; and the horses are prancing and dancing, and shaking their red tassels and silver bells! Oh, how pretty! How I wish he would take me out with him!”