Hamilton thought she looked at him as if she expected that he should offer to accompany her in the character of protector. This, however, he resolved not to do, and was in the act of retiring when the old Countess exclaimed: “Oh, Mr. Hamilton, if you are not otherwise engaged, perhaps you will accompany us in our walk? My daughter is so easily frightened that she cannot go any distance without someone to chase away the cattle.”
Hamilton felt doomed. The request had not been made in the most flattering terms, it is true, but he could not do otherwise than acquiesce. The thought that young Zedwitz was at that moment, perhaps, walking with the sisters, did not make him feel amiably disposed, and he was considerably out of temper when he commenced his walk. This could not, however, continue, for both his companions were agreeable; and though the old Countess suffered considerably from asthma in ascending the hills, she contrived, nevertheless to commence a conversation, as it appeared to Hamilton at first, in order to learn something of him or his family. Not, however, finding him disposed to be communicative, she desisted from anything but indirect observations, which rather amused him than otherwise, and then spoke unreservedly of her own affairs.
“They lived on one of their estates, in the neighbourhood of Munich, but they had spent the last two winters in the latter place, on account of their daughter. It had not agreed with the Count, and as her daughter was now braut (a bride), that is, engaged to be married, they should in future live altogether in the country. They had another residence in the mountains, near Baron Z—, which she would greatly prefer, but the Count fancied the mountain air increased his rheumatism. She supposed her son had told him all this, however.”
“Our conversation has been principally about Munich, and he has persuaded me to spend next winter there.”
“Were your movements so uncertain? Do your parents leave you completely at liberty?”
“Completely. I can spend the winter at Vienna, Berlin, Dresden, or Munich.”
The conversation was changed, and Hamilton was so pleased with both his companions that he was actually sorry when they reached Seon, though the walk had been long, and it was so late that the guests were assembling for supper.
“Where are my girls? Are they not yet returned?” asked Madame Rosenberg.
No one had seen them.
“They were with me the whole morning,” she continued, “and only went out half an hour ago to the church on the other side of the water. Perhaps Mr. Hamilton will be so kind as to call them to supper.”