“What can I say? Major Stultz can hardly expect that because he intends to marry a very pretty girl, everyone is to find her ugly and disagreeable, in order not to provoke his jealousy! I can avoid speaking to her, but I cannot think her one bit less pretty than she really is.” “Come now, Mr. Hamilton,” said Madame Rosenberg, jocosely, “I see you are trying to tease the Major, but you must not go too far, or he will not understand you. Crescenz is very good-looking, but I have no doubt you have seen many prettier girls in England.” She turned towards him once more, and said in a very low voice: “I shall be greatly obliged if you will say that you admire Hildegarde still more than her sister.” Hamilton found no difficulty in complying with her request, and was so eloquent on the theme given him, that he not only convinced Major Stultz that he had been mistaken, but induced him even to banter him on his apparently hopeless love. Madame Rosenberg did not wait for this result; she no sooner perceived that Hamilton intended to comply with her request than she walked on beside Crescenz, and began a severe reprimand. Had she delayed a few minutes, she would have found the young lady more disposed to listen to her and profit by her advice. Unfortunately, Crescenz had overheard what Hamilton had said before Hildegarde’s name was mentioned, and her mind, buoyed up on a thousand vague hopes, would not now yield to the pressing reasonings of her mother; she said sullenly, “that Major Stultz was intolerably jealous—that his age rendered him unable to make allowances for younger people, and that he expected more than was reasonable if he thought she could marry him for any other cause than in order to obtain a home. She would tell him so the first convenient opportunity.” “You will tell him no such thing,” cried Madame Rosenberg, turning back, in order to try the effect of her eloquence on Major Stultz. She was a clumsy maneuvrer—but she generally gained her point, for she always meant well, and at times spoke with much worldly wisdom. On the present occasion, she took her future son-in-law’s arm, and walked quickly on with him, leaving Hamilton, to his great annoyance, with Crescenz. He would willingly have joined the others, but there were too many to walk abreast, and neither Zedwitz nor Raimund seemed disposed to resign their places. They walked together in silence for some time, Crescenz with an air of triumphant satisfaction, Hamilton with ill-concealed impatience. “I hope,” she began at last, “I hope that I have seriously offended Major Stultz this evening: nothing would give me greater pleasure than the breaking off of this odious engagement.” “It would have been more honourable had you done so before you left Seon.” “Better late than never,” said Crescenz, gayly. “To act dishonourably, do you mean?” asked Hamilton, gravely. “Ah, bah!” cried Crescenz, with imperturbable good-humour. “You are talking exactly like Hildegarde, now.”