She laughed—pulled and thumped her pillows, and again wished him good-night. Hamilton found the door of Crescenz’s room open, she and her sister had evidently expected him—they were seated at the window, and either for the purpose of enjoying the moonlight, or as Hamilton afterwards supposed, to make their features less distinct, they had extinguished their candle. Hildegarde pushed back her chair, Crescenz hung her head at his approach. “I have brought you a letter,” he said to the latter, “which I hope will give you pleasure. Major Stultz will be here early to-morrow, and trusts in the meantime you will try to forget all that has passed between you this evening. He sees that his absurd jealousy was enough to provoke you to say all, and more too, than you have said to him, and he is ready to believe that you spoke under the influence of extreme irritation. In short, he is sincerely attached to you, and it will be your fault if a perfect reconciliation do not take place to-morrow.” “I suppose he must have been very angry,” said Crescenz, in a low voice, while she twisted the letter round in her fingers. “I suppose he must have been very angry, as you remained out so long.” “Yes, at first; but then I told him he had no right to be angry with you because you happened to be loved by others.” “Indeed! Did you say that?” cried Crescenz. “That is,” said Hildegarde, with a slight sneer, “you have said exactly what mamma recommended.” Hamilton felt extremely angry, but resolved not to let Hildegarde perceive it. He answered calmly, though a slight frown contracted his eyebrows: “No, mademoiselle—not exactly—for I said only what was the truth.” While he spoke, as if to brave her, he seated himself deliberately on the chair beside Crescenz, and took her hand, while he added: “I told Major Stultz how much I admired you, how thoroughly gentle and forgiving you were; but I explained to him also, without reserve, my own position in the world, and all the miseries entailed on a younger son in England.” Hamilton here explained at some length the difference between the equal division of property among children so general in Germany, and the apparently unjust privileges of primogeniture in England; dwelt long and feelingly on the struggles and vexations of a younger son brought up in luxury, and then cast with all his expensive habits in comparative poverty on the world; the necessity of pushing himself forward by his talents; the impossibility of an early marriage! He spoke long and eloquently, and made an evident impression on both his hearers. Crescenz’s tears fell fast on the letter, which she had unconsciously crumpled in her hand, without having thought it worthy of perusal. Hildegarde leaned on a small work-table, her eyes fixed intently on Hamilton, her lips apart, and an expression of strong interest pervading her whole form; she followed him with her eyes, but remained immovable as he rose to leave them, and watched with what