“Oh, yes, I want to speak to you—about myself, not Oscar.” “A much more interesting subject,” observed Hamilton. “But then,” said Hildegarde, hesitating, “you will probably give me some severe answer, and make me repent my humility.” “I promise to give you no severe answer,” said Hamilton, exceedingly flattered. “Then I must beg of you to forget what I said just now. I am quite aware that I have more faults than people generally have, and if you will take the trouble to correct them, I shall be obliged to you. I have spent almost the whole of my life at school among girls of my own age, so, of course, I must know very little of the manners and customs of the world. I see Crescenz’s simplicity quickly enough, and to avoid falling into her errors, I try to act differently in every respect. Now, Crescenz, with all her weaknesses, makes herself beloved—not more than she deserves, for she is the most amiable creature in the world, while I am universally disliked. I think, therefore, that something must be wrong; I have no person whose advice I can ask. Papa overrates as much as mamma underrates me, and neither of them understands me at all. Do you remember one evening mamma’s saying that you, as an unbiassed looker-on, could judge between us? I refused you as arbitrator then, because I knew you liked mamma better than me; but I am now willing to accept of you as judge, Mentor, or whatever you please, for I am convinced that you only dislike me just enough to see my faults without exaggerating them; so I promise to bear your corrections with as much patience as my natural impatience will allow.” During this speech Hamilton had been leaning against the wall, endeavouring to look as sage as Hildegarde evidently thought him; his eyes were bent on the ground, but a smile of ineffable satisfaction played round his mouth. Not for a moment did he hesitate to undertake the dangerous task. He would direct her studies, correct her faults, and make her mind as perfect as her form! What words he made use of to express this most magnanimous resolution he himself never could recollect; that he had spoken intelligibly was evident, for Hildegarde held out her hand and smiled brilliantly as she once more turned to the door. “I think,” she said, with some hesitation, “I think I could sleep more soundly to-night if you would begin your office at once, and tell me what I have done to-day that is reprehensible.” “I must of course, if you desire it.” “Let me guess. It is not Oscar’s defence?” “No; we have already discussed that subject,” replied Hamilton. “My—my losing my temper this evening, when mamma made the remark about Oscar’s saying she was his aunt?” Hamilton shook his head. “Well, then, my obstinacy about reading the book?” “Humph!—obstinacy is certainly a fault, but was not what I meant on the present occasion.”