“Cool!” said Hildegarde, laughing; “try it for a few minutes, and you will say cold, I think.” “Could you not spare Mr. Hamilton for a little while, Hildegarde? We want him to pound sugar; our arms positively ache, and Walburg is not yet come back from market.” Hildegarde made no objection, and Hamilton was conducted back to the kitchen, from whence, immediately, repeated bursts of laughter issued. The arrival of Madame Berger seemed to increase the noise; she closed the kitchen-door, but Hildegarde distinctly heard the words: “Congratulate—freedom for one day at least—make good use—amusement—Hildegarde—hush.” A short whispering ensued, and at length Madame Lustig made her appearance, inspected the ice-cream, and proposed putting it outside the window. “There is no use in your tormenting yourself longer, my dear,” she said, smiling; “we have something else to interest us; come, we must hold a consultation.” “About what?” asked Hamilton. “About a masquerade; were you ever at one?” “Oh, yes, at school we had one almost every year; I was always ordered to be a Greek or a Circassian.” “Ah, that was children’s play among ourselves; but I mean a real masquerade!” “You mean the public masquerades—at the theatre, perhaps?” “Just so; should you like to go to one?” “To be sure I should, of all things!” cried Hildegarde, eagerly. “When is it?” “To-night.” Her countenance fell. “Oh, if we had only known it sooner. If we had only been able to ask papa!” “There! I told you,” cried Madame Berger, coming out of the kitchen, followed by the others, “I knew she would make all sort of difficulties, and spoil Crescenz’s pleasure!” “I am sure,” said Madame Lustig, “neither your father nor mother would have any objection; when I go with you, and Madame Berger, and Mr. Hamilton.” “It is true mamma said I was to do whatever you desired me——” began Hildegarde, with some hesitation. “Oh, I will _command_ your attendance, if that will be any relief to your conscience,” cried Madame Lustig, with a loud laugh. Hildegarde coloured deeply, and looked towards Hamilton; he was eating almonds and raisins from a plate, which Madame Berger held towards him. “Let us talk about our masks, and not about our consciences,” cried the latter. “I must go home to dinner, or the Doctor will be impatient. We are to be black bats; black silk dresses; black dominoes, with hanging sleeves, and hoods; masks half black, and a knot of white ribbon under the chin, that we may know each other. How many dominoes shall I order?” “For us all, Lina, for us all!” cried Crescenz, eagerly. “We may as well dress at your house,” cried Madame Lustig. “It is not necessary that Walburg should know anything about the matter. The Doctor will have gone out before seven.” “Oh, yes, you may come at half-past six; I must have time to dress Mr. Hamilton as well as myself, you know! Adieu, _au revoir_.”