“a generous horse
Shows most true courage when you check his course.”
His horses were no longer to be restrained, and their impatient springing and dancing alarmed Crescenz more than ever. At length she could endure it no longer; and when little more than half way, insisted on getting out of the phaeton; and Hamilton had the mortification of seeing her take her husband’s arm, and with a look of infinite relief, begin to walk off as fast as she could.
“You always lead me into mischief of some kind or other!” cried Hamilton, provoked at Madame Berger’s laugh of derision. “I shall keep out of your way as much as I can the rest of this day!”
“You will do no such thing,” she answered, saucily. “Those two fools trudging along the road there only live for each other at present—Hildegarde will not talk to me, and I have not the slightest intention of spending the day with either Madame Rosenberg, who lectures me about my duties towards the Doctor, or old Mr. Eisenmann, who talks of nothing but cactuses and iron! If you don’t mean to be civil to me, turn back and leave me at home again.”
“Civil! oh, I have every intention of being civil, but I would rather avoid such scenes as we had the last day you were with us; I was obliged to explain and excuse——”
“And who has a right to demand an explanation, I should like to know? Hildegarde, perhaps?”
“No,” answered Hamilton, colouring; “it was Madame Rosenberg, who seemed to think——”
“Never mind what she thinks, we mean no harm, and I do not see why we should not amuse ourselves; but I must tell you something which I observed the last time I was with you—Hildegarde certainly does not like our being such good friends!”
“I don’t think she cares.”