“He does not understand, that is very evident,” observed A. Z. “You need not show me the letter, but go on.”
“When I told Hildegarde that I must return home, she recommended my leaving directly; she had, indeed, advised me to do so before the letter arrived.”
“And did she give you this advice without any apparent effort?”
“Without apparent effort, yes; but she is not to be judged from appearances. She has been educated by a Mademoiselle Hortense, who has given her the idea that, besides controlling her temper, which is naturally hasty, she should endeavour to conceal all her feelings, and, if possible, stifle them altogether. If Hildegarde had not been naturally warm-hearted, hot-tempered, and intellectual, such an education would have completely spoiled her.”
“But,” said A. Z., “after having lived nearly a year in the same house, if you can have any doubts about her caring for you——”
“Stay,” cried Hamilton, interrupting her, “you are not, perhaps, aware that I proclaimed myself a younger son, and said I could not marry, even before I entered the Rosenbergs’ house, and, as, until very lately, I never seriously thought of sacrificing my really brilliant prospects, Hildegarde is still unconscious that even, with the best intentions, I could have acted otherwise than as I have done. I have been more calculating and worldly-minded than befits such an attachment, but latterly, as the time drew near when I knew we must part, I was ready to brave all my family and be disinherited by my uncle if she had only said one word, given me one look, from which I could have felt certain that she loved me.”
“I suppose,” said A. Z., rising, and walking towards the house, “I suppose, from what you have just said, that you have some fortune independent of your family—enough, at least, to buy bread and butter?”
“I have five thousand pounds. A legacy left me by a distant relation, but it is not at my disposal for two years. This would not be enough for England; but I think here, as you say, it would perhaps buy bread and butter——”
“Oh, yes!” said A. Z., laughing, “and roast veal and pudding into the bargain, but that is not all that is to be considered. You ought not to make so great a sacrifice without considering long and carefully both sides of the question.”
“Oh, I have considered only too long,” answered Hamilton, “but I see you cannot understand me, or know Hildegarde without reading my journal. I had some intention of leaving it under your care, at all events, and I shall only beg of you never to refer to that part of it which relates to Count Oscar Raimund.”