“I have neither time nor inclination to speak on any subject but the one which brought me here.”
“The communication must be important, if I may judge by the solemnity of your manner,” said Hamilton, looking calmly into the quadrangle.
“My sister desires me to say that she feels the impropriety of her former interview with you here most deeply, and that nothing will induce her to consent to another. She has told you of her intended marriage; it is almost unnecessary to say that, under such circumstances, a continuation of your present attentions will only serve to embarrass and annoy her.”
“Your sister never desired you to say that,” cried Hamilton, fixing his eyes steadily on her face.
“Of this you may be assured,” she continued, colouring deeply, “that my sister will not again meet you alone, unless—unless——”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you are more explicit, and give her the power of choosing between you and Major Stultz. It is not yet too late.”
This was what may be called coming to the point at once, and Hamilton was so taken by surprise that he could only stammer something about the shortness of his acquaintance, and believing that he did not quite understand what she meant.
“I believe Crescenz does not quite understand what you mean,” cried Hildegarde, indignantly. “How I wish she could see with my eyes, and learn to despise you as you deserve!”
“You are really too flattering,” observed Hamilton, laughing, “much too flattering; but may I not be allowed to wish that you would see me with your sister’s eyes, and value me as I deserve? However,” he continued, glad of an opportunity to change the subject, “although you have just deprived me of a meeting with your sister, I shall not interfere with your intended tête-à-tête with Count Zedwitz.”