The Initials. Baroness Jemima Montgomery Tautphoeus
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.”
“You are mistaken. She referred to it in the only letter I have received from her for years. Indeed, I began to think, as my last letter had remained so long unanswered, that I was quite forgotten by you all, and the letter which you received in Munich was sent on chance. I purposely wrote in general terms, and signed with my initials, knowing that either your father or mother would recognise the handwriting, and you, or one of your brothers would have no difficulty in filling the blank and be glad to have our address.”
“I assure you, however, I was extremely puzzled when I received your letter; nor can I conceive why my father made such a secret of an arrangement which naturally interests me so much. He seemed indifferent whether I passed next winter in Munich or Vienna, and left me perfectly free to choose which I preferred.”
“Perhaps because he knew that I had left Munich.”
“But he never spoke of any German friend or acquaintance in the least resembling you! He never, I am sure, mentioned your name!”
“It seems, then, I am quite forgotten; but, as I have expatriated myself, I have no right to complain, and it would be unreasonable to expect people to remember me now, or speak of me to their children. Nevertheless, I cannot forget that I have experienced much kindness from your father and mother in former times, and that I have spent months in their house when you were at school. I shall be very glad if I can in any way be of use to you.”
“Thank you. I cannot imagine what motive my father could have had for secrecy and mystery on this occasion,” said Hamilton, musingly. “The idea is excellent, if I could only put it in practice. Perhaps you will be so kind as to give me your advice and assistance?”
“Most willingly; and I shall begin by giving you my advice to wait until you know something about your commission before you negotiate with any family whatever.”
“I am not going into the army—my uncle will not allow me to go to India, so my father intends me to try my fortune in the diplomatic line, and my principal object is to perfect myself in speaking German. A respectable family, could one be found willing to receive me, would answer all my purposes and fulfil all my wishes.”
“A diplomat! Then you must endeavour to conquer the mauvaise honte with which you seem overpowered when speaking to strangers, or it will never do. You are now natural and at your ease, and I tell you honestly, I can scarcely imagine you to be the same person who a quarter of an hour ago stood before me, blushing and squeezing his hat as if in an agony of embarrassment?”
“And I was in an agony of embarrassment,” answered Hamilton, laughing. “I perceived when you entered the room that you did not know me. I fancied that, perhaps, you had not written this letter; or, that it was not intended for me nor for my father; and as I had already had one scene about it this morning, I had no wish for another, fearing that a dénouement with you might not prove so amusing as with old Count Zedwitz.”
Hamilton now gave a short account of that little adventure, which amused her so much that she related it in German to her husband before he left the room. There was something in A. Z.’s manner towards him which peculiarly invited confidence; a sort of mixture of friend and relation. She appeared so interested in all his plans, understood so exactly what he meant, without asking unnecessary questions, that before half an hour had elapsed he had confided to her his intention of writing a book! She exhibited no sort of astonishment at the monstrous idea; he could not even detect a particle of ridicule in her smile as she approved of his intention; hoped he had taken notes, and asked him what was to be the subject of his work.
“ ‘Germany, and the Domestic Manners of the Germans,’ or something of that sort.”
“I hope, however, you speak German well enough to understand and join in general conversation, and to ask questions and obtain information, if necessary? It is unpardonable, people writing about the inhabitants of a country when they are incapable of conversing with them.”
“I understand it perfectly when it is spoken, and I generally contrive to make myself intelligible.”
“A little more than that is necessary; but, perhaps, you are too modest to boast of your proficiency.”
“I scarcely deserve to be called modest, although I am subject to occasional fits of diffidence. I believe I speak German with tolerable fluency, and only want opportunities of hearing and seeing. May I ask the name of the family with whom you were in treaty?”
“I heard of two families, either of them would have answered; but”—she hesitated.
“But what?”
“After everything had been arranged, and I was on the point of writing to your father, I found that only one member of the family wished for you, and that was the person who on such an occasion was of the least importance. I mean the gentleman. He wished for your society to have an opportunity of speaking English, but as he spent the greater part of the day in his office, and went out every evening, you would naturally have fallen to the lot of his wife; and, although I praised you as much as I could without knowing how you had grown up, she told me plainly that she should consider you a bore, and that I could not oblige her more than by breaking off our negotiations. Under such circumstances I had no choice.”
“And the other?” asked Hamilton.
“The other was a professor at the university. I wrote to your father about him, but never received any answer.”
“A professor! that does not promise much, nor would it answer my purpose. I should see little or nothing of domestic life.”
“You are mistaken; I was half afraid you might see too much, for he had a wife and five sons.”
“Did his wife enter no protest?”
“I did not see her; but as they were not rich, and had already five young persons in their house, I concluded one more or less could make little difference.”
“But a—if another family could be found, I must say I should prefer it, and would rather not apply to the professor, excepting as a last resource.”
“We have no longer the option, for he has left Munich. I heard, indeed, of another family—but the objections were insurmountable.”
“On the part of husband or wife?”
“This time the objections were on my side; there were unmarried daughters in the house.”
“Oh, that would be no objection at all—on the contrary——”
“I considered it a very serious objection,” said A. Z., quietly.
“I understand what you mean; but surely you do not think me such a fool as to fall in love with every girl I happen to live in the house with? I assure you I am by no means so inflammable.”
“Very possibly; but as I could not answer for your not being inflammatory, and am aware that German girls do not understand the word ‘flirtation,’ and are much too serious on such occasions, I thought it better to avoid leading you into temptation. Do not, however, be vexed; I have many friends in Munich,