“Oh, Lina! I have _so_ longed to see you! _so_ wished for your advice!” After she had spoken with great animation to the Rosenbergs and other acquaintances, she turned to Crescenz, who, continuing to hold her hand, reproached her for having neglected her. “My dear creature! I have been in Starnberg, or you should have seen me long ago. The Doctor came for me this afternoon, and I have not been more than an hour in town. On such an occasion I was obliged to make myself smart, and you have no idea how I hurried! Isn’t this dress a love? the Doctor’s choice—he bought it at Schultz, and surprised me with it on my birthday! Conceive my being nineteen years old!” she continued in a whisper, leading Crescenz apart; “I am really glad that I am married; I should have been obliged to wait an eternity for Theodor; he is now studying with the Doctor, visits the hospitals with him, and dines with us every Sunday! Heigho!——” “Is not the Doctor jealous?” “Jealous! oh, dear, no—why should he be jealous? If Theodor had been rich, I should have preferred him, of course! but a poor student!—the thing was absurd! And yet I _did_ love him—with all my heart, too!” “I can easily imagine it,” said Crescenz, pensively; “and in Seon, of all places in the world!” and she sighed very expressively. “Why surely, dear, you did not find anyone at Seon with whom you could fall in love! I beg Major Stultz’s pardon, but—a—the company at Seon is a——” “Oh, there were some very nice people there this year; Count Zedwitz and his family—his son, I am almost sure, proposed to Hildegarde, though she won’t acknowledge it.” “Count Zedwitz! why, surely, Hildegarde would not be such a fool as to refuse such a——” “Hush, dearest—it’s the greatest possible secret; and Hildegarde would never forgive me if she knew——” “I don’t believe a word of it,” said the Doctor’s wife, arranging a stray ringlet; “I don’t believe a word of it. Hildegarde would have talked if there had been even a shadow of probability of such a thing. As to her having refused him, that is out of the nature of things! I suppose, dear,” she added, shaking back her curls, “I suppose he turned to you when he was tired of Hildegarde? Did she frighten him with a fit of fury, as she did me the day I read the letter from her father, which she had mislaid in the school-room? Do you remember how she stormed and called me dishonourable, and said I was capable of any horrible act? I never forgave that Mademoiselle Hortense for not taking my part; but all the governesses were so proud of Hildegarde’s beauty, after her picture was painted, that she was allowed to do as she pleased.” “Don’t talk of her,” said Crescenz, in a low voice; “I know you never liked her.”