another blush on me, but try to feel at home as soon as you can, and prepare to tell me directly everything about everybody!” Hamilton moved mechanically towards the sofa, completely confused in every sense of the word, but at the same time greatly relieved in his mind. So, after all, the letter had been intended for his father, and she merely mistook him for his brother John—a common mistake, which he could easily explain. What a fool he would have been had he not come in person to inquire about this “A. Z.,” who was evidently an old friend of his father. He began to breathe more freely, and overheard a few words which she addressed to her husband in a very low voice, in German: “Did you ever see such a long-legged, bashful animal? He is, however, handsome, and would be decidedly gentlemanlike if he were less diffident. We must take him with us to Berchtesgaden Herrmann.” “I have already arranged everything,” he answered, nodding his head. “He wishes to see a chamois-hunt, and he shall, if I can manage it; at all events, he may stretch his long legs on one of our mountains.” “Are you a sportsman?” she asked in English, turning towards Hamilton, and seating herself on the sofa. “Not the least in the world, as far as shooting is concerned,” he answered, stooping to arrange her footstool, and feeling once more unembarrassed, “but I should like extremely to see a chamois-hunt.” “If you are not what is called a good shot,” said A. Z., “I should recommend the ascent of a mountain or alp instead of a chamois-hunt, which is very fatiguing, and I should think must be uninteresting to a person who cannot shoot remarkably well.” “Anything that is new or national will be acceptable to me,” answered Hamilton. “I am anxious to profit by my residence in Germany, and see and hear as much as possible; most particularly, I wish to become acquainted with some German family, in order to see the interior of their houses, and learn their domestic habits.” While he had been speaking, A. Z. had bent over a small work-box, with the contents of which she absently played. She now looked up, and repeated his last words: “Domestic habits! Does that interest you?—But I had almost forgotten; your father wrote to me on that subject, and I had very nearly entered into an engagement for you with a family of Munich.” “How very odd!” exclaimed Hamilton. “My father never mentioned a word of anything of the kind to me; I do not think even my mother was acquainted with this plan.”