“No—she was not—she had gone to Mayence.”
“And when is she expected to return?” asked Hildegarde, anxiously.
“We do not in the least know, Mademoiselle, she left very suddenly, in consequence of a letter which she received. She is sometimes not more than a few days absent, and most of the carriages and horses are still here. Who shall I say——?”
“It is of no consequence,” said Hamilton, “we merely wished to know if a young lady from Munich was not expected about this time?”
The man said he would inquire, entered the house, but returned almost directly, saying, that no one was expected, excepting perhaps Count Zedwitz on his way home.
Hamilton and Hildegarde walked on together for some minutes in silence; at length the latter observed, half inquiringly, “I suppose I have no right to be offended with this Baroness Waldorf? It must have been urgent business which could make her leave Frankfort just when she appointed me to be here?”
“I should think so,” said Hamilton, “but she might have made some arrangement for your reception during her absence. This thoughtlessness about you will scarcely prepossess you in her favour.”
“Rich people are seldom considerate,” began Hildegarde, as if she intended to moralise; but suddenly stopping, she added: “You are right—she has placed me in a very unpleasant position—if she do not return in a day or two, I shall neither have the means of remaining here nor returning home.”
“Our fortunate meeting at Aschaffenburg,” said Hamilton, “will save you from all annoyances of that description, as you know I can arrange everything with your mother. At all events, I shall not leave you now until you are either at home again or residing with this—to say the least—very thoughtless person.”
“But will not delay inconvenience you?” asked Hildegarde.