“I know all you are going to say,” cried Hamilton, laughing, “extravagant habits, horrible smell, danger of burning the house, and all that! Suppose it said—I am very contrite indeed, and promise not to burn either shirt or boots for three weeks to come, and not at all when the weather is warmer and the stove is not heated.”
“In three weeks, and when the weather is warmer, we shall be too far apart for me either to lecture or detain you in my room against your will!”
“My dear Madame Rosenberg,” exclaimed Hamilton, springing towards her, and not only seating himself on the previously disdained chair, but drawing it so close to hers that she involuntarily drew back; “my dear Madame Rosenberg, you surely do not mean that I must leave you?”
“I do, indeed,” she answered, nodding her head slowly and despondingly, and again the monstrous handkerchief was put in requisition. “I’m sure,” she added, somewhat surprised at the varying emotions depicted on his countenance, “I’m sure it’s very kind of you to be so sorry to leave us—I thought the loss was wholly on our side.”
“I have spent seven of the happiest months of my life in your house,” began Hamilton.
“Six months and one week,” said Madame Rosenberg, interrupting him; “you were three weeks at Havard’s, you know, and when we are settling our account the three weeks must be deducted, for, as poor dear Franz said——”
“I should like to know your intentions with respect to Hildegarde,” said Hamilton, who had not heard one word of the explanation.
“Hildegarde goes with me to the Iron Works, as people now call them; poor Franz was so uneasy about her on his death-bed, that I promised him she should never leave my house excepting with her own free will, and always have the power of returning to it when she chose, and that she should receive on her marriage a trousseau in every respect like her sister’s.”
“This promise must have been a great relief to his mind,” observed Hamilton.
“It was,” said Madame Rosenberg, and the tears flowed fast as she added: “I would have given him everything I had in the world to have made him contented in his last moments. We lived so happily together during the twelve years which we passed in this house. I cannot remain here any longer—the house—the furniture—Munich itself has become odious to me. I intend to return to my father. Fritz will be made a gentleman, as his father wished it, at the military school. Gustle must be his grandfather’s successor at the Iron Works; he has, at all events, no great love of learning; and Peppy is too young to be taken into consideration at present.”