He perceived that he had fallen deeply in her estimation, and—he fell in his own, a few minutes afterwards, by a fruitless attempt which he made to explain to her the nature of the English peerage, and which he ended by the assurance that had he been born in Germany, where every member of a family inherits the paternal title, he should undoubtedly have been a baron or a count. She did not understand him; and he was glad of it, for he felt keenly the absurdity of his oration, and the silly boast contained in the concluding remark. Where the _noblesse_ is so extensive as in Germany, and where so many members of it are so extremely poor, one would naturally think it would fall in some degree into disrepute, or, at least, that it would be regarded with indifference. This is, however, by no means the case; and there is no doubt that, had her red-faced major been a count or baron, she would have willingly overlooked the other discrepancies. Even a _von_ before his name would have been a consolation, when combined with the happiness of having had a countess for her mother. These were Hamilton’s thoughts during a pause in the conversation, and he partly continued to think aloud, when he asked— “Was she handsome?” “Who?” “Your mother.” “I don’t know—I cannot remember her.” “Are you—is your sister like her?” “Hildegarde is very like papa, and people say I am very like Hildegarde.” “You are extremely like each other, especially at first sight.” “Oh, I know that Hildegarde is a great deal handsomer than I am!” This was a fact, and Hamilton was puzzled for an answer, when she added, after a pause— “But Major Stultz says I am much more lovable than she is!” “Major Stultz is a man of discrimination,” said Hamilton, looking around him listlessly. “He says, too, we shall be very happy when we are married!” “I hope so, most sincerely.” “He gave me a great deal of good advice the day we were at Chiem See.” “Indeed! On what subject?” “He said it was very foolish to trust very young men—that they were very faithless, and good for nothing.” “All! Did he say all?” cried Hamilton, in a tone of mock deprecation. “Yes, all,” she answered, petulantly. “He advised me neither to trust them in words nor actions!” “What extraordinary knowledge of the world he must have! Altogether a remarkable person!” “You are laughing at me—or—at him.” “Laughing! What an idea! Only look at me for a moment, and you will be convinced of the contrary.” And she did look at him, and her eyes filled with tears as they met the calm, unembarrassed gaze of his. A heavy step on the gravel-walk announced the approach of someone, and on turning round they perceived Major Stultz blowing the ashes out of his meerschaum pipe, as he leisurely walked towards a bank in the garden. Crescenz started as if she had been detected committing a crime, and, with heightened colour, rose to join him.