He bowed again, and said, simply,—
“Karl Hoffman, at your service, mademoiselle.”
“The courier—oh, yes! I forgot all about it. Please take these things.”
And Amy began to hand him her miscellaneous collection of bags, books, shawls and cushions.
“I’d no idea couriers were such decent creatures,” whispered Amy, as they followed him along the hall.
“Don’t you remember the raptures Mrs. Mortimer used to have over their Italian courier, and her funny description of him? ‘Beautiful to behold, with a night of hair, eyes full of an infinite tenderness, and a sumptuous cheek.’”
Both girls laughed, and Amy averred that Karl’s eyes danced with merriment as he glanced over his shoulder, as the silvery peal sounded behind him.
“Hush! he understands English; we must be careful,” said Helen, and neither spoke again till they reached the carriage.
Everything was ready, and as they drove away, the major, leaning luxuriously back, exclaimed,—
“Now I begin to enjoy travelling, for I’m no longer worried by the thought of luggage, time-tables, trains, and the everlasting perplexity of thalers, kreutzers, and pfenniges. This man is a treasure; everything is done in the best manner, and his knowledge of matters is really amazing.”