“That, and no other,” cried Madame Berger; and after some laughing and whispering, he gave her the flower.
Hildegarde was surprised, although, by a sort of tacit agreement, she and Hamilton usually avoided any exhibition of their intimacy or friendship when Madame Berger was present; the latter continued, “I have an odd taste, perhaps, but my favourite flower is the common scarlet geranium. I do not see one here.”
“The only plant I had,” said Mr. Eisenmann, “I gave to Hildegarde, and she gave it to Hamilton to put on his flower-stand.”
“Oh, if it belongs to you,” said Madame Berger, with a light laugh, “I must have a branch of it directly,” and she bounded into the house as she spoke.
“This is too much,” cried Hamilton, running after her. A minute or two afterwards a violent scream was heard from his room, of which both windows were open.
“Shall we go and see what has happened?” whispered Crescenz to her sister.
“No, it is better to leave them alone.”
“Lina is growing worse and worse every day,” said Crescenz. “Blazius does not at all like my being with her, since people have begun to talk so much about her.”
“What do people talk about?”
“They say that Mr. Biedermann is now constantly with her; never out of the house. In fact——”