She stretched out her hand for the slate. Fritz anticipated her, seized and flung it up in the air, as he had done the grammar; but it did not fall so harmlessly. Hamilton, who had been standing at the open door, rushed forward, but was too late to prevent its descending with considerable force upon her temple, where it made a wound, from which the blood instantly began to trickle in large dark drops. Hildegarde started up angrily, while Fritz, after the first moment of dismay had passed, ran towards her, and throwing his arms round her, exclaimed, “Forgive me, forgive me—indeed I did not intend to hurt you.” “If papa has come home from his _bureau_,” said Crescenz, preparing to leave the room, “I’ll go this moment and tell him.” “Stay,” cried Hildegarde, hastily; “he says he did not do it on purpose; and after all, I am not much hurt. You must not tell papa or mamma either.” “Well, you certainly are the best fellow in the world, Hildegarde,” cried Fritz. “I declare I would rather be cuffed by you than kissed by Crescenz.” “And cuffed you would have been, had you been near enough,” said Hildegarde, laughing, while she poured some water into a basin. “Mamma will be sure to see the cut, and ask how it happened,” said Crescenz. “I can easily hide it under my hair when it has stopped bleeding.” “Now just for that, Hildegarde,” cried Fritz, “I promise to learn as many lessons as you please for the next fortnight.” Madame Rosenberg’s step and the jingling of her keys alarmed them all. Hamilton turned to meet her in the passage, saying, “Can I speak to you for five minutes?” “To be sure you can, and longer, if you like,” she replied, hooking her keys into the string of her apron. “Just let me look how things are going on in the kitchen, and I am at your service as long as you please. Put a cover on that pot, Walburg, and tell Miss Crescenz not to forget the powdered sugar for the tart, and the apples for the boys’ luncheon. And now,” she said, turning to Hamilton, and leading the way to her room, “what have you got to say? You look so serious that I suspect you are going to tell me that you dislike your rooms, as they look into a back street, and are near a coppersmith’s. Captain Black left me for that reason, although I told him he could look out of the drawing-room windows as much as he pleased, and receive all his visitors there. I could not make the coppersmith leave his shop, you know; though this much I must say, that in winter the nuisance is less felt than in summer, when the workmen, during the fine weather, hammer away all day in the lane, but in winter they work in the house, and shut the doors, so that they are scarcely heard at all.”