“I mean that the fair Hildegarde could only find one slipper in the dark, and pattered about with her bare foot, as if it were the most comfortable thing possible!” “I did not look at her feet; but even if I had, I should only have admired her forgetfulness of self in her anxiety about her sister.” “You are right, Zedwitz,” cried Hamilton, with unusual warmth; “quite right. And though I will not, cannot, say that I think the nightcap pretty, I must acknowledge that I admired Hildegarde to-night more than anyone I ever saw. She is superlatively handsome, and it is the greater pity that she is such a devil.” “A devil! Are you raving?” “Not a bit of it. I advise you to take care how you make advances to her; she will slap you on the mouth for the slightest misdemeanour.” “Slap me on the mouth!” “Not the smallest doubt of it. She buffeted poor Major Stultz when he innocently made her a proposal of marriage, until his face, from deep red, turned to the richest purple.” “Nay, now I know you are inventing—joking.” “Not so much as you think, I assure you. Her sister is my authority. She softened the recital in some degree, it is true, by saying that Hildegarde was not often in a passion, and never with _her_.” Zedwitz seated himself at the table, drummed on it with his fingers, and looked at Hamilton as if he expected to hear more. “Perhaps, after all,” said Hamilton, “she is only a little hot-tempered. I have heard it asserted that passionate people were always good-hearted—in fact, most amiable, when not actually in a passion!” “Who would have imagined that?” said Zedwitz, thoughtfully; “and with such an angel’s face!” “Never trust an angel’s face!” cried Hamilton, laughing. “My brother John, who understands such things, says that angelic-looking women are very often devils, and, if not, they are bores; and of the two I prefer a devil to a bore, any day—even for a wife.” Zedwitz rubbed his hand across his forehead, and looked dissatisfied. “So you think her ill-tempered?” he observed. “I cannot exactly say ill-tempered; but I have already seen her in something very nearly approaching to a passion.” “You!—where?” “No matter. But she called me a fool, and stamped with her foot, until I ran away for very fright.” “I dare say you had provoked her past endurance; and I have now had an opportunity of judging how shy and modest you are. Not that I mean to blame you for supporting Crescenz, as you did to-night, in the cloisters. You saved her, no doubt, from a severe fall, but you took very remarkable good care of her.” “It was very natural that Crescenz should cling to me when she was frightened,” said Hamilton, seriously; “and equally natural that I should endeavour to protect her.” “Oh, it was altogether extremely natural; only don’t talk any more nonsense about being shy. You were anything but shy at the foot of the staircase——” “Were you there, too?” “Not very distant from you, disguised as a rat.”