"You were kind to her?" asked Gabriel, faintly.
"As a lamb," replied Mr. Hummel, "and she the same. The room was poor, one picture only hung there without a frame, Gabriel, as a remembrance of her happy position in that house. It was a cock with golden feathers."
Gabriel turned away.
"At last the place became too moist for my dry constitution, but care has been taken of her. She is to be placed in a respectable business as a saleswoman, and as for the illegitimate Knips, the ladies will take care of him. I have spoken with Madame Hummel, and she with the Hahn woman over the way; they will arrange for the charitable collections. But as far as you are concerned, Gabriel, with all respect,--what is too much is too much."
Mr. Hummel respectfully seized Gabriel's waistcoat button, and twisted the averted face as by a screw round to himself. Then he looked into the sad eyes for some time without saying a word, but they both understood each other.
"It was a hard time, it was a mad time, Gabriel, in every point of view," began Mr. Hummel, at last, shaking his head; "what we went through with princes was no trifle."
"He was very light," said Gabriel, "and I carried him like a feather."
"That is nothing to the purpose," said Mr. Hummel; "the affair was creditable. Just think what it is to have saved a young Sovereign. That few of us can do. For a moment, ambitious thoughts came into my head--that is to say, the Chamberlain, no ill-disposed man and an old acquaintance of ours, sounded me on a delicate point when he last called."
"He also sent for me," interposed Gabriel, with dignity. "Prince Victor had commissioned him to send his respects, and to say that the Prince was to marry the Princess."
"Even this kind of householder becomes domestic," said Mr. Hummel, "that is at least a beginning. Well, the Chamberlain assured me of his Serene Highness's gratitude, made eloquent speeches, and probed me at last with a 'predicate.' Do you know what that is?"