“Under other circumstances I could easily imagine it.”
“And under what other circumstances am I likely to see Italy—or even the Rhine, near as it now is to me?”
Hamilton was silent.
“Let us go,” said Hildegarde, taking up her gloves. “You will not, I am sure, try to dissuade me any longer, when I tell you that I cannot endure the life I should have to lead at the Iron Works; my habits and education have unfortunately made me totally unfit for it. I have made the trial, and must now with regret confess that the details of domestic life are not only tiresome, but absolutely disgusting to me.”
“So, then,” said Hamilton, “you have discovered that riches are necessary to your happiness?”
“Not exactly riches,” replied Hildegarde, little aware of the importance attached to her answer, “but something beyond the actual means of subsistence—enough at least to insure me from the vulgar cares of life, and to enable me to associate with people whose habits and manners are similar to mine.”
“And how much would be necessary for this?” asked Hamilton, gravely.
“Oh, indeed I don’t know,” she answered carelessly, laughing, “nor is it necessary to calculate. That I have it not is certain; and in being a governess I see the only means of satisfying my wishes at present, and securing a competence hereafter. If I remain ten years with the Baroness Waldorf, I shall receive a pension for the rest of my life.”
“And do you think you could not endure these vulgar cares of life, as you call them, even with a person you loved?” asked Hamilton, still more earnestly.
“I shall never be tried in that way,” answered Hildegarde firmly, and while she walked on, wholly occupied with her immediate concerns, Hamilton altogether misunderstanding the meaning of her words, concluded she referred to a marriage with Zedwitz at some future period. Thus unconsciously tormenting each other, they reached the Baroness Waldorf’s house, and finding a burly porter lounging outside the door, they asked if she was at home.