“Oh, I assure you, with all her love for Crescenz, she often tyrannised over the poor girl, and scarcely allowed her to have an opinion of her own on any subject. Crescenz was a little afraid of her, too, at times. Cressy is the dearest creature in the world, but not at all brilliant; we all loved her, but we sometimes laughed at her, too; and you can form no conception of the fury of Hildegarde when she used to find it out. Crescenz has confessed to me, when we were alone, that her sister had often lectured her on her simplicity, and had told her what she was to do and say when we attempted to joke with her. Nothing more comical than seeing Crescenz playing Hildegarde.” “Mademoiselle Rosenberg was considered clever?” asked Hamilton. “Clever! why yes—as far as learning was concerned she was the best in the school, and that was the reason that madame and the governess overlooked her violence of temper; she is very ill-tempered.” “That is a pity,” said Hamilton, “for she seems to have excellent qualities.” “I never could discover anything excellent about her,” said Madame Berger, biting her lip slightly. “Perhaps,” observed Hamilton, “she is more violent than ill tempered; and you say that she can control herself in the presence of anyone she likes.” “But it is exactly these likings and dislikings that I find so abominable; for instance, she loves her father—well, he is a very good-looking, quiet sort of insipid man—she, however, thinks him perfection, and is outrageous if people do not show an absurd respect for all his opinions. What he says must be law for all the world! On the other hand, she dislikes her step-mother; who is nothing very extraordinary, I allow—rather vulgar, too; but still she has her good qualities. Hildegarde cannot see them, and will not allow Crescenz to become aware of them either! Is not this detestable?” “It is a proof that she has strong prejudices; but——” The door just then was opened, and Crescenz entered the room, carrying the lamp, and smiling brightly. It was heavy, and Hamilton rose to assist her in placing it on the table before the sofa where they sat. “Thank you, oh, thank you!” cried Crescenz, with a fervency which Madame Berger thought so exaggerated that she found it necessary to explain. “That dear girl is so grateful for the most trifling attention! It is generally the case with us all for a short time after we leave school.” “There’s the lamp!” exclaimed Madame Rosenberg, “and not broken! What do you say now, Rosenberg? I declare it burns better than usual;—the globe has been cleaned, eh, Crescenz?” “Yes, Wally cleaned it a little; it was very dusty,” replied Crescenz, looking archly at Hamilton, and seeming to enjoy the equivocation. Hildegarde blushed deeply, and walked into the next room. Hamilton saw the blush, and looked after her, while Madame Berger whispered: “Did you see that?—she is jealous of the praise bestowed on her sister.”