“Take me with you to the Iron Works,” said Hamilton, abruptly.
Madame Rosenberg looked at him as if she did not quite comprehend.
“Take me with you to the Iron Works,” he repeated.
She shook her head. “It is no place for you,” she said, steadily, “nor is my father, though an excellent man, a companion for you. Your parents would be dissatisfied, and with reason, were you to bury yourself in an insignificant village, just so many miles from Munich as to prevent your being able to avail yourself of the advantages which you told me you had found here for the completion of your education.”
Hamilton felt the justness of her remark, and did not attempt to contradict it; he had, however, no intention of quitting a family of which Hildegarde was still to be a member; nor did he much concern himself about the satisfaction or dissatisfaction of his parents just at that moment. He understood Madame Rosenberg perfectly, and changed his tactics. Throwing himself back in his chair, he said, with apparent resignation: “Well, I suppose I must spend the ensuing five months at Havard’s, that’s all!”
“At Havard’s! What an idea!” exclaimed Madame Rosenberg; “to be giving suppers and drinking champagne every night! I never heard of anything so absurd!”
“Why, where else can I go? I cannot well take a lodging and engage a cook and housemaid for myself, can I?”
“No,” replied Madame Rosenberg, half laughing, “not exactly that—but a lodging, or a family might be found. Suppose, for instance, that Madame Berger should have proposed taking you, in case the Doctor have no objection, eh?”
“I am sure I have none,” said Hamilton, vainly endeavouring to suppress a smile as he added, “she is one of the prettiest little women I ever saw, and with time and opportunity I have no doubt I shall fall desperately in love with her. You will not be there to sustain me with your good advice—and—a—but at least you will be answerable for the consequences, as you will have led me into the temptation!”
“Good heavens! Not for all the world would I take such a responsibility upon myself!” cried Madame Rosenberg, with a look of amazement; “Lina, too, so giddy and thoughtless, and the Doctor never at home! It would never do, I see. But who would have imagined that you would think of such a thing at your age!”