“We have no engagement, he cannot enter into any; he does not even know that I regard him otherwise than as a friend!”
“Then listen to me, Hildegarde: notwithstanding all the admiration, all the love which he undoubtedly feels for you now—when he has been some time at home among the friends and companions of his youth—he will forget you!”
“I think he will,” said Hildegarde with a deep sigh.
“And you too will forget this youthful fancy,” continued Zedwitz.
“Youthful fancy!” she repeated slowly, “I fear I have neither youthful fancies nor youthful feelings; I have had no youth!”
“It will come like a late spring, and bestow on you at once those blessings which others receive so gradually, that they are insensible to them.”
Hildegarde shook her head and turned to the window. Zedwitz seemed to wish to say something which embarrassed him. “In case you should find this hotel more expensive than you expected,” he began in an hesitating manner.
“Oh, not at all expensive,” said Hildegarde. “I had no idea one could live so cheaply at such a place!”
Zedwitz looked surprised; he would have been more so if he had seen the bill which she had paid Hamilton with such childish satisfaction a couple of hours before. It is needless to say that it had been written by him, as soon as he had discovered that she had not the most remote idea of the expenses of travelling, that he had taken advantage of her ignorance to prevent her feeling any annoyance or uneasiness.
“I cannot tell you how unwilling I am to leave you,” said Zedwitz, after a pause; “but go I must. Until we meet again, let me indulge the hope that a time may come——”