He was not, nor in the school-room, and she had not the courage to seek him in his apartment. She hoped to find an opportunity in the course of the next day, although with female quickness she had already observed that he no longer sought to be alone with her, or in any way to occupy her attention. Hamilton’s motives were honourable, but he could scarcely have chosen a more judicious mode of conduct in order to facilitate their intercourse; it had already convinced Mr. Rosenberg of his indifference to his daughter just when he had begun to entertain suspicions to the contrary, and confirmed Madame Rosenberg in the idea that Hamilton actually disliked her. After wandering about the house for some time, Hildegarde returned to her room, and endeavoured to arrange her thoughts, and her balls of coloured worsted and silks, until the return of her family. They came late, and talked loudly and gayly on their arrival. When Crescenz entered the room, she immediately exclaimed, “Oh! Hildegarde, we have had such a pleasant party—such a number of people, and such good coffee! and the Bergers. Oh dear, I was so sorry that you and——but I had almost forgotten, mamma says you must make tea directly for Mr. Hamilton, he is going to the theatre, there is an opera, and he wishes to hear the overture.” Hildegarde pushed back her work-frame, and left the room to seek the breakfast service of highly gilt china, which Madame Rosenberg had received as a wedding-present, and which, though certainly intended by the donor to have been “kept for show,” she had latterly appropriated to Hamilton’s use, whenever he drank tea alone, and this was generally the case the evenings he went to the theatre. When she carried it to the drawing-room, she found her father, mother, and Major Stultz with him, and as she poured out the weak beverage, and arranged the plate of bread and butter, her mother continued speaking—“We thought you did not choose to hear us—but then what motive could you have?” “What! indeed!” said Hamilton. “The Major shouted the word Nymphenburg and coffee as loud as he could; he thought they might give you an idea what we meant.” “We heard nothing. The confounded bells made such a noise.” “The bells are very useful when it grows foggy, or dark, as we found this evening,” observed Major Stultz. “Hildegarde, you may light the candles—Mr. Hamilton cannot find the way to his mouth.” Hildegarde brought them, while Crescenz, who had joined the others, continued repeating: “So pleasant, so gay! So many people! And then about the upset—did you relate about that?” “No,” cried Hamilton, looking up; “pray tell me about it. You don’t mean to say you were upset?” “Oh, no! But a young Englishman and his wife were thrown out of their sledge to-day when they were driving around the palings at Nymphenburg. Captain What’s-his-name told us all about it, and they were so young and so handsome, he said.”