CHAPTER X.
THE RETURN TO MUNICH.
Hamilton’s journey to Munich proved more agreeable than the commencement had promised. Hildegarde, the maid, Peppy, and Fritz were his companions; the others occupied the second carriage and chose to be together, as Fritz sapiently observed, in order to talk secrets about Cressy’s wedding. Hildegarde exhibited her dislike to Hamilton so artlessly that he could scarcely preserve a serious countenance, while he endeavoured to overcome it. The averted head, short, careless answers, and pertinacious discourse with brother Fritz, could not, however, long resist his efforts. He was possessed of no inconsiderable advantages, both of mind and manner, and of this he was, perhaps, but too well aware, sometimes unnecessarily under-valuing the intellect of others, while he indulged in a vein of satire most displeasing when it became evident. Hildegarde had noticed this in his intercourse with her sister, and was at first extremely guarded in her answers; but his manner was so unconstrained, his account of himself and his ideas so amusing and simple, that at length she also became communicative, and unconsciously displayed an extent of intellect for which Hamilton had not been prepared—her acquirements were considerable for a girl of her age, and she spoke with enthusiasm of the continuance of her studies when she returned to Munich. Her father had quite an excellent library of his own, which he had promised to let her use, and her mother intended to subscribe to a circulating library, on condition that none but French books should be sent for or read. On Hamilton’s inquiring further, she said, with a slight blush, that she was extremely fond of novels and poetry.
“Poetry!” he exclaimed, thrown off his guard; “poetry! I should have imagined that more suited to your sister’s taste than yours.”
No sooner had the word “sister” passed his lips than he saw a sudden change in the expression of his companion’s countenance; he had, in fact, awakened a train of unpleasant reflections, rendered more disagreeable by a feeling of self-reproach for previous forgetfulness. Hildegarde retired from him as far as the limits of the carriage permitted, looking out of the window, without noticing his remark, and rendered all his attempts to renew the conversation abortive by entering into a disquisition with her brother on the impropriety of bringing snow-balls into the house in winter! With a smile, which Hildegarde would perhaps have denominated a sneer, had she seen it, Hamilton leaned back in the carriage, and was soon occupied in mental speculations on the change which one word had been able to produce, although the cause was by no means difficult to surmise. They did not speak again until they entered the inn where they were to dine. Madame Rosenberg was his companion in the afternoon, and so effectually did she contrive to beguile the time with a history of herself and her family, that he was actually sorry when, at a late hour in the evening, their journey ended, and both carriages began somewhat tumultuously to pour forth their contents.
The apartments were on the third story, and on bounding up the stairs to them, Hamilton was received by Mr. Rosenberg with almost as much cordiality as his future son-in-law, who had followed more slowly. A good deal of calling and running, and dragging about of furniture ensued, but at the end of an hour, or thereabouts, they were all comfortably seated round a supper-table, which, although of the plainest description, and lit by a couple of tallow candles in brass candlesticks, more than satisfied Hamilton; and nothing could exceed the pleasure with which he looked around him. The novelty of the situation, and the realization of his wish to be domesticated in a private family, aided, no doubt, considerably to produce this frame of mind, for he was, by nature and education, fastidious; and had he not had an object in view, it is more than probable that the extreme homeliness of the house arrangements would have more disgusted than amused him. Madame Rosenberg stood with a napkin pinned over the front of her dress while she carved a large loin of veal, and distributed to each, beginning with her husband, the portion which she judged sufficient for their supper; a potato salad, which she had also prepared in their presence, with oil and vinegar, was added; and Hildegarde and Crescenz carried around the plates, to Hamilton’s surprise and, indeed, discomfort; it was in vain he jumped up and offered to assist them. Madame Rosenberg begged him to sit still, that Hildegarde would bring him all he wanted, and Crescenz, as in duty bound, would see that the Major had every thing he required. With a coyness which would have been graceful had it not been slightly tinctured with affectation, Crescenz performed the required services, Major Stultz declaring he had never in his life been so waited upon; that she was a perfect Hebe, and ending by catching her hand and kissing it passionately. Crescenz looked across the table, and on finding Hamilton’s large dark eyes fixed upon her, drew back, and, behind the chair of her lover, impatiently wiped the kiss, and with it some portion of gravy and potato, which had probably adhered to his moustache, from her fair hand. On again looking towards Hamilton, half expecting some sign of approval, she found that he had turned to her father, and seemed altogether to have forgotten her presence. With some indignation she took her place at the table, and commenced her supper, internally vowing never to bestow either a word or look more on him; and, if possible, to convince him, without delay, of her extreme dislike to him. She listened with apparent interest, while her mother and Major Stultz settled the day but one after for their solemn betrothal, which was to give her the name of bride, a title only used in Germany during the term of engagement, and never after the ceremony of marriage has been performed.
Major Stultz rose to take leave, whispered a little while, ostentatiously with Crescenz, and retired. Hamilton was accompanied by the whole family when he took possession of the two rooms appropriated to his use at the back of the house; they looked into another street, and were accessible by a back staircase, which Madame Rosenberg informed him was considered a great convenience for single gentlemen, especially as she would give him a skeleton-key which would open the house-door and admit him at all hours without the servants being obliged to sit up for him. Crescenz scarcely answered when he wished her good-night, and he divined pretty accurately what was passing in her mind. He was heartily glad that she had adopted this line of conduct; was fully prepared to believe in her indifference; in fact, he gave her more credit for coquetry than she deserved, and determined in no way to interfere with her good resolutions or Major Stultz in future.
The next morning was wholly occupied by a visit to his banker, the library, securing a place for six months at the theatre, and purchasing some toys for Fritz, Gustle, and Peppy. He reached home some time after twelve o’clock, and found that they had waited dinner for him—Madame Rosenberg delicately informing him of the fact by shouting from the nursery-door—
“You may bring in the soup now, Wally, for Mr. Hamilton is come.”
As far as Mr. Hamilton was concerned, the soup might have remained in the kitchen all day; he had not yet learned to eat ordinary German soup, which, when not thickened into a “family broth,” very much resembled the weak beef-tea decocted by careful housekeepers for invalids; he therefore played with his spoon until the boiled beef, which invariably succeeds, had made its appearance, and finished his repast with a piece of zwetschgen cake, which he found excellent, and much more easy to eat than to pronounce. The whole family rose from table at the same moment, and Hamilton was in the act of opening the door leading into the drawing-room, when he heard Madame Rosenberg call out—
“Hildegarde, pick up Mr. Hamilton’s napkin; don’t you see it lying on the floor?”
Hamilton sprang forward, raised, and threw it with a jerk across the back of his chair, not clearly understanding what possible difference it could make, and thinking Madame Rosenberg very unnecessarily particular. His surprise was therefore great when he saw Hildegarde take the crumpled towel and, having endeavoured to lay it in the original folds, bind it with a piece of blue ribbon which had been placed on the table beside him for the purpose.
“Mr. Smith told me that people did not generally use napkins in England,” said Madame Rosenberg, sagaciously nodding her head.
“Not use napkins! you surely must have misunderstood him; perhaps he said people did not use the same napkin twice!”
“Not use a napkin twice!” cried Madame Rosenberg. “If that were the case I should have a pretty washing at the end of the three months! Rosenberg gets but two a week, and has moustaches. I expect that you will be able to manage, like the girls, with one.”
“I shall certainly cultivate a moustache forthwith, if it were only for the purpose of getting the two napkins a week!” said Hamilton, good-humouredly laughing as he left the room.