And changing colour she was with frightful rapidity; no one but Hamilton knew that she had been twenty-four hours without eating, for in the hurry of preparing for the wedding, her not breakfasting had passed unobserved. None but he knew the shock which her nerves had received the night before, the constraint under which she had been labouring; he alone understood that Crescenz’s last remark was the drop which made the cup of bitterness to overflow, and yet he was quite as much shocked as the others when, stretching out her arm, and vainly grasping the air for support, she fell senseless on the floor.
“Crescenz, what have you said to your sister?” cried her father, rushing forward.
“I don’t know—I don’t remember. What did I say?” she cried, appealing with a look of alarm to Hamilton.
Mr. Rosenberg raised Hildegarde, who, however, gave no sign of returning life; he was so alarmed and trembled so violently, that Hamilton was obliged to assist him to lay her on the sofa, while Crescenz opened the window, and Madame Rosenberg went for water. Their united efforts at length brought her to consciousness; she opened her eyes, perceived her father’s terror as he hung over her, and while assuring him that she was quite well again, relapsed into a state of insensibility, which lasted until she had been removed to her room, and placed on her bed.
Doctor Berger was sent for. He hoped her illness might prove of no consequence, but she must be kept very quiet; there were symptoms which might lead to typhus or brain fever. Crescenz repeated this opinion to her sister, who, on hearing it, immediately desired to see Hamilton.
“But not now—not here,” said Crescenz.
“No, I believe I must write a few lines, and you can give my note to him as he passes on his way to his room.”
Crescenz brought a pencil and paper, and Hildegarde wrote in English:
“You have heard the doctor’s opinion of my illness; I think, myself, it will only prove a severe cold. Should it, however, end in fever, and should I become delirious, you must go to Mademoiselle Hortense, one of the governesses in our school, tell her my situation, and say I request her to come and take charge of me. My step-mother will be satisfied with the arrangement, and you have no refusal to fear; my motives you will easily guess.”
“May I read it?” asked Crescenz as she received the paper from her sister—“ah! it is English; how fond you are of everything English.”