“Blazius said it was more than mere liking. Now if you cared for him as Blazius supposed, his conduct to-day must vex you, you could not help feeling jealous.”
“I have no right.”
“Oh, one never thinks of right on such occasions,” said Crescenz, smiling; “I remember the time I used to suffer tortures whenever he whispered and laughed with Lina. There was a time, too, when I could not have endured his preferring you to me, but now——”
“Now?” repeated Hildegarde, inquiringly.
“Now, I don’t think about him, and I like Blazius so much that I never think of comparing them. Mr. Hamilton is certainly very handsome, but, as Blazius says, one gets so accustomed to good looks, that at last it makes no impression at all. By the by, how improved Peppy is since he has been in the country,” she added, as the child ran to meet her; “I declare he will be quite as handsome as Fritz—it is impossible not to like such noble-looking creatures. I must say they are both a thousand times more lovable than Gustle, who promises to be extremely plain, and not in the least like either of us.”
Hildegarde smiled at the discrepancy between the commencement and end of her sister’s speech, but took no notice of it, and they spent the rest of the day in the arbour, talking over their school adventures, Crescenz’s house affairs, and Hildegarde’s plans for the future.
Hamilton and Madame Berger did not return until just before supper-time; they entered into no explanation, and made no excuses; the latter merely observed, when arranging her hair in Hildegarde’s room, “I really never spent a pleasanter day; Mr. Hamilton is positively charming—quite a love. I must not forget to wear the wreath of ivy he took such trouble to choose for me,” and, while speaking, she twisted a long light branch with its deep green leaves among the tresses of her fair hair, and pushing back with both hands the mass of ringlets which covered her face, bestowed a glance of satisfied vanity on the looking-glass, and flourishing her pocket handkerchief left the room.
“I never saw Lina look so pretty as she does to-day,” observed Hildegarde.
“And do you really not feel angry with her?” asked Crescenz, as she put her arm around her sister’s waist, and they began to descend the stairs together.
“Angry with her for having taken a long walk with Mr. Hamilton?”