“It is in the letter, however,” said Madame Rosenberg, eagerly perusing the inelegant specimen of penmanship; “but I do not see anything about Hans or the horses.”
“Oh, I said nothing about them, they can go to the inn.”
“But we have a stable——” began Madame Rosenberg.
“I know you have, and a pair of stout greys in it. Your father has promised me a lift into Munich every Saturday, when he sends in his iron.”
“On the cart?” asked Madame Berger.
“Yes,” said Hamilton, “there are places for two on the seat in front. The offer was very civil, considering the shortness of our acquaintance.”
“It is a proof, at all events, that he has taken a great fancy to you,” said Madame Rosenberg, with an air of great satisfaction; “and as you wish to go with the children, Hildegarde must arrange your room for you. Do you hear, Hildegarde?”
“Yes, mamma.”
“I must give you a green curtain to hang up before the alcove where the bedstead is to be put, and it will be nearly as good as two rooms. You must make new muslin curtains for the windows as soon as possible.”
“Your grandfather made most particular inquiries about you,” observed Hamilton, turning to Hildegarde.