A Bride of the Plains Part 29

"Elsa! I want a word with you."

"I'll come directly, Bela," she replied, speaking over her shoulder. "I want to speak to mother for a minute."

"You can speak to her later," he rejoined roughly. "I want a word with you now."

And without more ado he pushed his way up close to Elsa's side, elbowing Barna Moritz with scant ceremony. An angry word rose to the younger man's lips, and a sudden quarrel was only averted by a pleading look from Elsa's blue eyes. It would have been very unseemly, of course, to quarrel with one's host on such an occasion. Moritz, swallowing his wrath, withdrew without a word, even though he cursed Bela for a brute under his breath.

Bela took Elsa's arm and led her aside out of the crowd.

"You know," he said roughly, "how I hate you to mix with that rowdy lot like you do; and you know that I look on the csardas as indecent and vulgar. Why do you do it?"

"The rowdy lot, as you call them, Bela," she replied firmly, "are my friends, and the csardas is a dance which all true Magyars dance from childhood."

"I don't choose to allow my wife to dance it," he retorted.

"And after to-morrow I will obey you, Bela. To-day I asked my mother if I might dance. And she said yes."

"Your mother's a fool," he muttered.

"And remember that to-night I take leave of my girlhood," she said gently, determined not to quarrel. "My friends like to monopolize me . . . it's only natural."

"Well! They are not my friends, anyway, and I'd rather you did not dance another csardas to-night."

"I am sorry, Bela," she said quietly, "but I have promised Feher Karoly and also Jeno. They would be disappointed if I broke my promise."

"Then they'll have to be disappointed, that's all."

She made no reply, but looking at her face, which he saw in profile, he could not fail to note that her lips were tightly set and that there was an unwonted look of determination round her mouth. He drew in his breath, for he was quite ready for a second conflict of will to-day, nor, this time, was the issue for a moment in doubt in his mind. Women were made to obey--their parents first and then their husbands. In this case Bela knew well enough that his authority was fully backed by that of Elsa's mother--the invalid father, of course, didn't count, but Kapus Irma wanted that house on the Kender Road, she wanted the servant and the oxen, the chickens and the pigs, she wanted all the ease and the luxury which her rich son-in-law would give her.

No! There was no fear that Elsa would break her tokened word. In this semi-Oriental land, where semi-Oriental thought prevails, girls do not do that sort of thing--if they do, it is to their own hurt, and Elsa was not of the stuff of which rebellious or perjured women are made.

Therefore Bela now had neither fear nor compunction in a.s.serting that authority which would be his to the full to-morrow. He felt that there was a vein of rebellion in Elsa's character, and this he meant to drain and to staunch till it had withered to nothingness. It would never do for him--of all men--to have a rebellious or argumentative wife.

"Well, then, that's settled," he said, with absolute finality, "you can go and talk to your precious friends as much as you like, so long as you behave yourself as a tokened bride should, but I will not have you dance that abominable csardas again to-night."

"And have you behaved to-day, Bela," she retorted quite gently, "as a tokened bridegroom should?"

"That's nothing to do with it," he replied, with a harsh laugh. "I am a man, and you are a girl, and even the most ignorant Hungarian peasant will tell you that there is a vast difference there. But I am not going to argue about it with you, my dear. I merely forbid you to dance a dance which I consider indecent. That's all."

"And I am sorry, Bela," she said, speaking at least as firmly as he did, "but I have given my promise, and even you would not wish me to break my word."

"You mean to disobey me, then?" he asked.

"Certainly not after to-morrow. To-day I have my mother's permission, and I am going to dance one csardas now with Feher Karoly and one after supper again with Jeno."

They had both unconsciously raised their voices during these last few words, and thus aroused the attention of some of the folk, who had stood by to listen. Of course, everyone knew of Bela's aversion to the csardas, and curiosity prompted gaffers and gossips to try and hear what would be the end of this argument between the pretty bride--who certainly looked rather wilful and obstinate now--and her future lord and master.

"Well said, little Elsa!" came now in ringing accents from the foremost group in the little crowd; "we must see you dance the csardas once or twice more before that ogre has the authority to shut you up in his castle."

"Moreover, your promise has been made to me," a.s.serted Feher Karoly l.u.s.tily, "and I certainly shall not release you from it."

"Nor I," added Jeno.

"Don't you listen to Bela, my little Elsa," said one of the older women; "you are still a free girl to-day. You just do as you like--to-morrow will be time enough to do as he tells you."

But this opinion the married men present were not prepared to endorse, and one or two minor arguments and lectures ensued anent a woman's duty of obedience.

Bela had said nothing while these chaffing remarks were being pa.s.sed over his head; and now that public attention was momentarily diverted from him, he took Elsa's hand and pa.s.sed it under his arm.

"You had better go to your mother now, hadn't you?" he said, with what seemed like perfect calm. "You said just now that you wished to speak to her."

Elsa allowed him to lead her away. She tried vainly to guess what was going on in his mind. She knew, of course, that he must be very angry.

Eros Bela beaten in an argument was at no time a very pleasant customer, and now he surely was raging inwardly, for he had set his heart on exerting his authority over this matter of the csardas and had signally failed.

But she could not see how he felt, for he kept his face averted from her inquiring gaze.

Kapus Irma greeted her future son-in-law with obvious acerbity.

"I hear you have been teasing Elsa again," she said crossly. "Why can't you let her enjoy herself just for to-night, without interfering with her?"

"Oh! I am not going to interfere with her," he replied, with a sneer.

"You have given her such perfect lessons of disobedience and obstinacy that it will take me all my time in the future to drill her into proper wifely shape. But to-night I am not going to interfere with her. She has told me plainly that she means to do just as she likes and that you have given her leave to defy me. Public opinion, it seems, is all in her favour too. So I have just brought your dutiful daughter back to you, and now I am free to make myself scarce."

"To make yourself scarce?" exclaimed Irma. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I say. I am not going to stay here, where I am jeered at by a lot of loutish, common peasants, who seem to have forgotten that I am paying for their enjoyment and for all the food and drink which they will consume presently. However, that's neither here nor there. Everyone seems to look upon this entertainment as Elsa's feast, and upon Elsa as the hostess and the queen. I am so obviously in the way and of no consequence. I go where I shall be more welcome."

He had dropped Elsa's arm and was turning to go, but Irma had caught hold of his coat.

"Where are you going?" she gasped.

"That's nothing to do with you, is it, Irma neni?" he replied dryly.

"Indeed it is," she retorted; "why, you can't go away like that--not before supper--you can't for Elsa's sake--what would everybody say?"

"I don't care one bra.s.s filler what anybody says, Irma neni, and you know it. As for Elsa, why should I consider her? She has plenty of friends to stand by her, it seems, in her disobedience to my wishes. She has openly defied me, and made me look a fool. I am not going to stand that, so I go elsewhere--or I might do or say something which I might be sorry for later on--see?"

He tried to speak quietly and not to raise his voice, but it was also obvious that self-control was costing him a mightily vigorous effort, for the veins in his temples were standing up like cords, and his one eye literally shone with a sinister and almost cruel glow.

Kapus Irma turned to her daughter.

"Elsa," she said fretfully, "don't be such a goose. I won't have you quarrelling with Bela like this, just before your wedding. Just you kiss him now, and tell him you didn't mean to vex him. We can't have everybody gossiping about this affair! My goodness! As if a csardas or two mattered." . . .

But here Bela's harsh laugh broke in on her mutterings.

"Don't waste your breath, Irma neni," he said roughly. "Even if Elsa were to come and beg my pardon now I would not remain here. I don't care for such tardy, perfunctory obedience, and this she will learn by and by. For to-night, if you and she feel ashamed and uncomfortable, well!

so much the better. Village gossip doesn't affect me in the least. I do as I like, and let all the chattering women go to h----l. Good-night, Irma neni--good-night, Elsa! I hope you will be in a better frame of mind to-morrow."

And before Kapus Irma could detain him or utter another protest, he was gone, and she turned savagely on her daughter.