Hildegarde, without speaking, moved to the vacant chair at the other side of Hamilton, and slowly and reluctantly sipped a few mouthfuls of soup. By some singular anomaly, Hamilton found himself suddenly in remarkably high spirits—he looked at Hildegarde, and congratulating himself on being free from thraldom, gazed with a gay smile on her pale features until they were suffused with red, and great was his triumph to feel and know that there was no sympathetic blush on his own countenance. He told Madame Rosenberg of an engagement he had made with Zedwitz to accompany him to Edelhof on the following morning, to attend the marriage of his sister, and requested to have his breakfast at an early hour the next day. “And you intend to remain away a whole fortnight! How we shall miss you!” cried Madame Rosenberg. “You are very kind to say so,” replied Hamilton, laughing. “And I think so too, though you seem to doubt me. You know I like you better than any of the Englishmen I have had in my house. Captain Black was not to be compared to you, nor Mr. Smith, either, although he used to tell me so often that he was noble even without a _von_ before his name, and that he could be made a chamberlain here if he wished it, as he was related to the Duke of Buckel,[2] which always appeared to me such an odd name for a duke that I was half inclined to doubt there being any such person.” Footnote 2: Buckel means in German back, or more generally humpback. It seems that Madame Rosenberg took it in the latter sense. “We have a Duke of Buccleugh——” began Hamilton. “Very likely he pronounced it that way; I am sure I heard it often enough to know, but I never can learn an English word until I see it written; and never should have learned his name if he had not constantly left his cards lying about on the tables; I dare say I shall find some of them in the card-basket still.” She commenced a diligent search while speaking, and soon held up a card on which was printed in large German letters the name of Mr. Howard Seymour Scott Smith. “He used to sometimes say that the last word ought to be left out, for that his real name was Scott.” “Perhaps he inherited property with the name of Smith?” “No; he said something about a marriage certificate having been lost—that before he was born there was great irregularity in such things in England.” Hamilton laughed. “Is it not true?” asked Madame Rosenberg. “Oh, very possibly.” “He told us, too, that in Scotland people could be married without any certificate of birth, baptism, or confirmation—without even the consent of their friends. Franz says this is a fact, and that the existence of such a law is a great temptation to thoughtless young people.”