The Initials. Baroness Jemima Montgomery Tautphoeus
crying that her eyes were almost closed, her sister so pale that Hamilton expected every moment she would faint; after a few ineffectual efforts to swallow, they rose suddenly and left the room together. Madame Rosenberg, who was sitting beside Major Stultz, made some hasty remark, and followed them. She had not, however, been absent more than a few minutes when she returned with Hildegarde, and pointing angrily to her place at the table desired her “to sit down there, and leave her sister in peace.” She obeyed, but made no attempt whatever to eat. Young Zedwitz, who had established a sort of right to sit beside her, endeavoured to begin a conversation; without raising her eyes, she said a few words in a low voice which at once made him desist, and he scarcely looked at her again during the time she remained at table.
It was a magnificent afternoon, and Hamilton was burning with curiosity which he had determined to satisfy by some desperate effort during the course of it; his dismay was, therefore, great, when he found himself seized upon by old Count Zedwitz and carried off to his room for a dissertation on the water-cure! As a reward, or rather punishment, for the exaggerated expressions of interest lavished upon cold water on a former occasion, a manuscript was confidentially produced, written by himself, intended for publication, and of which he proposed Hamilton’s making a translation for the benefit of his countrymen! He commenced slowly reading aloud, occasionally stopping to make alterations and corrections, while Hamilton gazed wistfully out of the open window at the sunny landscape, his thoughts wandering unrestrainedly to Crescenz and her sister. They would have gone out to walk, and he should probably not see them until supper-time. Zedwitz would, of course, contrive to join their party, as he was evidently getting up a serious flirtation with Hildegarde; he, for his part, rather preferred Crescenz, who he was sure he could persuade to give him a rendezvous—perhaps even in the cloisters! Five minutes—only five minutes without her sister—he composed the most appropriate speeches, and the running accompaniment to his thoughts, formed by Count Zedwitz’s manuscript, almost made him laugh in spite of himself and his annoyance.
At length the sound of gay voices in the garden beneath brought his impatience to a crisis; he sprang from his chair, placed his head in his hands, and declared he had such a violent headache that he must beg to defer the conclusion of the manuscript until the next day.
“Headache! My dear sir, if you would not think me unfeeling, I should say that I rejoice to hear it! I shall now be able to make a convert of you at once. Headache, be it nervous or rheumatic, can be cured by placing the feet in a tub of cold water, and rolling wet cloths round the head.”
“I think a quick walk would set me to rights in a very short time; and as I hear your son singing in the garden, perhaps I shall be able to persuade him to join me.”
“If you don’t like the foot-bath, try a little sweating in cloths—indeed, it will cure you—pray, try it.”
“My dear Count—my headache is of a very peculiar kind; I am subject to it, and have given it the name of ‘bored headache.’ I know from experience that nothing but a walk can cure me.”
“Bored headache! To bore—to penetrate—to pierce—to bore with a gimlet! You feel, perhaps, as if some one had been boring at your head,” and he suited the action to the words.
“Precisely—exactly. In such cases I require violent exercise——”
“But, I assure you,” he persisted, “the cold stupes would have the same effect; I should still, merely to convince you, recommend sweating in——”
“Excuse me this time,” said Hamilton, hurriedly, “and to-morrow, if you will have the kindness to read me your manuscript, I shall be able to appreciate its merits as it deserves.”
While the Count was taking off his spectacles, Hamilton, with his hand pressed on his forehead, left the room as if he were suffering tortures. It was fortunate that the old man’s rheumatism prevented his looking after him, as he ran along the corridor and bounded down the staircase into the garden! Young Zedwitz was gone, and his mother and sister were standing so near the door that, in the eagerness of flight, Hamilton stumbled against them. He apologised, and then asked for Count Max, whom he said he expected to have found in the garden.
“He was here a minute ago,” answered she, “but is gone to look for somebody or something; I did not quite understand what he said.”
“It is very unkind of Max not to walk with us,” observed the young lady, with some irritation; “he knows how dreadfully afraid I am of cows and dogs.”
Hamilton thought she looked at him as if she expected that he should offer to accompany her in the character of protector. This, however, he resolved not to do, and was in the act of retiring when the old Countess exclaimed: “Oh, Mr. Hamilton, if you are not otherwise engaged, perhaps you will accompany us in our walk? My daughter is so easily frightened that she cannot go any distance without someone to chase away the cattle.”
Hamilton felt doomed. The request had not been made in the most flattering terms, it is true, but he could not do otherwise than acquiesce. The thought that young Zedwitz was at that moment, perhaps, walking with the sisters, did not make him feel amiably disposed, and he was considerably out of temper when he commenced his walk. This could not, however, continue, for both his companions were agreeable; and though the old Countess suffered considerably from asthma in ascending the hills, she contrived, nevertheless to commence a conversation, as it appeared to Hamilton at first, in order to learn something of him or his family. Not, however, finding him disposed to be communicative, she desisted from anything but indirect observations, which rather amused him than otherwise, and then spoke unreservedly of her own affairs.
“They lived on one of their estates, in the neighbourhood of Munich, but they had spent the last two winters in the latter place, on account of their daughter. It had not agreed with the Count, and as her daughter was now braut (a bride), that is, engaged to be married, they should in future live altogether in the country. They had another residence in the mountains, near Baron Z—, which she would greatly prefer, but the Count fancied the mountain air increased his rheumatism. She supposed her son had told him all this, however.”
“Our conversation has been principally about Munich, and he has persuaded me to spend next winter there.”
“Were your movements so uncertain? Do your parents leave you completely at liberty?”
“Completely. I can spend the winter at Vienna, Berlin, Dresden, or Munich.”
The conversation was changed, and Hamilton was so pleased with both his companions that he was actually sorry when they reached Seon, though the walk had been long, and it was so late that the guests were assembling for supper.
“Where are my girls? Are they not yet returned?” asked Madame Rosenberg.
No one had seen them.
“They were with me the whole morning,” she continued, “and only went out half an hour ago to the church on the other side of the water. Perhaps Mr. Hamilton will be so kind as to call them to supper.”
“Let me go with you,” cried young Zedwitz, starting from his chair.
“Thank you—I can find them without your assistance,” he replied; and then added, maliciously laughing, “I know you have been lounging about this little lake all day, my good fellow, and must be as tired of it as a sentinel of his post.”
Zedwitz laughed too, but he was not so easily put off—he took Hamilton’s arm, and they sallied forth together.
“You were long on guard to-day, Zedwitz, from dinner-time until now!”
“How did you like being caught to drive away the cows? I saw you being led off.”
“At first I did not like it at all—afterwards, very much. I have taken a great fancy to your mother—still more to your sister.”
“My sister is the dearest little soul in the world. If you but knew her as well as I do! I am very sorry she is to be married so soon—her loss will to me be irreparable, and our house so intolerably dull without her, that I shall be under the necessity of choosing