“Not in the least,” she answered, laughing, while she shook the snow from her cloak, “not in the least; I was thrown at the first jerk into the fresh snow, and every time I attempted to get up I fell back again, until I received assistance, for which I thank you,” she said, turning to some strangers; and then she added hurriedly to Hamilton, “Let us go home.” The sledge had been easily set to rights, and they once more drove off at a furious pace. “As wild a young pair as ever I saw,” observed an officer to his wife, as they turned towards the inn to rest, and refresh themselves with a cup of coffee. “We have disobeyed your mother,” began Hamilton, “unintentionally indeed, but——” “How do you mean?” “Why, she forbade our leaving the sledge on any account whatever,” said Hamilton, laughing; “now, I don’t in the least mind being lectured by her, but I confess I do not enjoy the idea of Major Stultz’s triumph. How unmercifully I shall be laughed at!” “I don’t see any necessity for saying anything about the matter,” said Hildegarde; “if you choose to be silent, I shall never refer to the subject; in fact, I was altogether to blame, it was my proposition driving round that enclosure, and it was I who encouraged you to worry the horses, in order to show you that I was not afraid of them.” “The carter and his young horse were to blame,” said Hamilton; “he ought not to have come so close to us; but I should be very glad to escape Major Stultz’s heavy raillery. Do you hear, Hans—you fell out of the sledge in your sleep—not even to your father must you say otherwise than that my horses are as steady as oxen. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir.” Perhaps the fear of being questioned induced Hamilton when returning to pass the others so quickly that he did not hear their cries to him to stop and return to Nymphenburg. Perhaps the wish to be once more alone with his companion for half an hour made him urge his horses to their hardest trot: if the latter had been his object, his annoyance may be conceived when, on reaching home, just as they had begun to ascend the stairs together, gayly laughing, he perceived Count Raimund standing above them. He had seen their arrival from the Hoffmanns’ window, and rushed out under pretence of a joke, but, in reality, to waylay them. Hamilton could not conceal his vexation; he frowned, and muttered the words “Everlasting bore!” which made Hildegarde’s countenance change in a manner that irritated her cousin. “Hildegarde, I must speak to you,” he began abruptly. “Speak on,” she said, continuing to ascend the stairs. “I must ask you a question—and—we must be alone.” “You are peremptory—ask differently, and per—haps I may comply with your request.” Count Raimund grasped—not gently—his cousin’s arm—she turned round—became very pale—and requested Hamilton, in a low voice, to go up stairs—she would follow him directly.