“The new lodgers for the first floor; they come on the 29th of this month, and have been looking at their apartments, which are being papered and painted. On the second floor we shall find our landlord, who has the warehouse below stairs, as he has six or eight children, and they make a tremendous noise; I am better pleased to live above than below them, though it is not so noble.” After dinner, Hamilton, finding himself alone with Crescenz in the drawing-room, insisted on her giving him a lesson in German waltzing; she had just completed her instructions, and they were whirling around the room for the first time when the door was opened, and Hildegarde, having looked in, closed it again without speaking. “There, now!” cried Crescenz, walking with a look of great vexation towards the open window; “was there ever anything so provoking! and after our explanation last night, too, but she really requires too much!” “What does she require?” asked Hamilton, taking possession of the other half of the window, and leaning on one of the cushions, which, as usual in Germany, were conveniently placed for the elbows of those who habitually gazed into the street. “What does she require?” “That I should never, for one moment, forget that I have promised to marry Major Stultz. I know quite well that she disapproves of my having danced with you.” “And if you were to go to a ball now, would you not be at liberty to dance with whomsoever you pleased?” “Oh, of course.” “Then, why not with me?” “Oh, because—because—she knows that—I—that you—” “In fact,” said Hamilton, “you have told her of my inexcusable conduct the day we were on the alp.” “No,” replied Crescenz, blushing deeply, “I have only told her that you cannot marry without your father’s consent—that the younger sons of English people cannot marry—just what you told me yourself.” “The recollection of that day will cause me regret as long as I live,” said Hamilton, blushing in his turn; “thoughtless words on such a subject are quite unpardonable. I hope you have forgotten all I said!” “I cannot forget,” said Crescenz, looking intently into the street to hide her emotion—“I cannot forget—it was the first time I had ever heard anything of that kind, and was so exactly what I had imagined in every respect.” Hamilton bit his lip, and replied gravely: “It was the novelty alone which gave importance to my words; I am convinced, had you considered for a moment, you would have laughed at me as I deserved. Major Stultz must often have said——” “Major Stultz,” said Crescenz, contemptuously, “never speaks of anything but how comfortably we shall live together, and what we shall have for dinner, and how many servants we shall be able to keep, and all those sorts of things, which make it impossible to forget one year of his age, or one bit of his ugliness.” “He is a very good-natured man,” said Hamilton, “and Zedwitz told me, has been a very distinguished officer.”