“Marriages are seldom or never celebrated before Advent,” said Madame Rosenberg, “but at all events, Major Stultz’s sister has died suddenly, and he must leave for Nuremberg to-morrow.” “I am sorry he has lost his sister,” said Hamilton, compassionately. “Why, in fact, the loss is rather a gain,” said Madame Rosenberg. “He knew very little about her—she was unmarried, rich, and stingy—always on the point of making a fool of herself by marrying some young student or officer. Now the Major quietly inherits all her property—a very pretty addition to what he already has. I told Crescenz yesterday evening that she had drawn a greater prize than she expected.” “And what did she say?” “Why, not much, but she looked exceedingly pleased—her father has told me since that he thinks she is glad that her marriage is put off, and does not care in the least about the money, of which she has not yet learned the value. This may be partly true—Crescenz may have no objection to a delay, but she is now quite satisfied with the Major, and has no wish whatever to break off her engagement. Count Raimund has been of great use to her!” “How do you mean?” asked Hamilton surprised. “Why, his unpardonable negligence towards Marie de Hoffmann forms a fine contrast to the Major’s attention and handsome presents. Crescenz is very childish, but she has perceived the difference, nevertheless, and I have not neglected the opportunity to tell her that all young men are careless lovers, and still more careless husbands, and that I am sure she will be much happier when she is married than Marie.” “The carriage is come! The carriage is come for Hamilton!” cried Peppy, rushing into the room; “and Count Zedwitz is coming up the stairs! and Crescenz is hiding behind the kitchen-door! and Walburg is gone with Gustle to school! and Dr. Berger is in Hildegarde’s room! and papa is putting on his coat! and he wants you to come to him!” “Well, have you any more news to tell me before I go?” said his mother, taking up her bunch of keys from the breakfast-table. “Good-morning, Count Zedwitz—you must excuse me—Dr. Berger is here, and——” “No one ill, I hope?” said Zedwitz. “Hildegarde is ill,” replied Hamilton; “have you any objection to waiting until we hear what the Doctor says?” “Quite the contrary,” said Zedwitz, sitting down, evidently alarmed. “In the meantime, I can tell Hans to carry down my luggage,” said Hamilton. Hans was despatched with the portmanteau, carpet-bag, and dressing-case; but Hamilton, instead of returning to his friend, watched until Madame Rosenberg and the Doctor had left Hildegarde’s room, and walked up the passage together. A moment after he was at her door, and had knocked. “Come in,” said Hildegarde, almost gayly. “I am not so ill as you suppose!” “I am very glad to hear it,” said Hamilton, entering as he spoke. “I—I—expected papa,” said Hildegarde, blushing deeply.