A Hungarian Nabob Part 43

Since the day of the installation, the Karpathys had been residing at their castle at Madaras. Old Karpathy had yielded to his wife's wishes in that respect. She had begged that they might live there for a short time, although it was by no means so pleasantly situated as Karpatfalva.

f.a.n.n.y wished, in fact, to be far away from Szentirma, and had no longer the slightest desire to go to Pest since hearing from Kecskerey that the Szentirmays intended living there during the winter.

Squire John and his wife were just then walking in the newly-laid-out English garden. The gentle fallow deer already knew their mistress well.

Her pockets were always full of sugar almonds, and they drew near to eat the dainty morsels out of her hand, and accompanied her up and down the walk. Suddenly the rumble of a carriage was audible on the high-road, and Karpathy, looking over the fence, exclaimed--

"Look, look! those are the Szentirmay horses!"

f.a.n.n.y almost collapsed. The Squire felt her arm tremble.

"I trod on a snail," said his wife, turning pale.

"You silly thing, what's there to be afraid of? I knew that Flora would come here to seek you out. Oh, how greatly that lady loves you! But, indeed, who would not love you?"

But f.a.n.n.y could see very well, from afar, that in the carriage which was approaching sat not a woman but a man. Karpathy's eyes were weak. He could recognize a horse even at a distance, but he could not distinguish people.

"Come, we will go and meet her," said he to his wife as the carriage swept into the park.

f.a.n.n.y stood still as if her feet were rooted to the ground.

"Come, come, don't you want to meet your friend?" insisted the good old man.

"It is not Flora," stammered f.a.n.n.y, with frightened, embarra.s.sed eyes.

"Then who else can it be?" asked the Squire. He must have been somewhat surprised at the conduct of his wife, but there was not a grain of suspicion in his composition, so he simply asked again, "Then who else can it be?"

"It is Flora's husband," said f.a.n.n.y, withdrawing her hand from her husband's arm.

Squire John began to laugh.

"Why, what a silly the girl is! Why, you must welcome him too, of course. Are you not the mistress of the house?"

Not another word did f.a.n.n.y speak, but she hardened her face as well as her heart, and hastened towards the coming guest on her husband's arm.

By the time they reached the forecourt of the castle, Rudolf's carriage was rumbling into the courtyard. The young n.o.bleman perceived and hastened towards them. Karpathy held out his hand while he was still some way off, and Rudolf pressed it warmly.

"Well, and won't you hold out your hand too?" said the Squire to his wife; "he's the husband of your dear friend, is he not? Why do you look at him as if you had never seen him before?"

f.a.n.n.y fancied that the ground beneath her must open, and the columns and stone statues of the old castle seemed to be dancing round her. She felt the pressure of a warm hand in hers, and she involuntarily leaned her dizzy head on her husband's shoulder.

Rudolf regarded her fixedly, and his ideas concerning this woman were peculiar: he took this pallor for faint-heartedness, this veiled regard for coquetry, and he believed it would be no difficult matter to win her.

As they ascended the staircase together, he told Karpathy the cause of his coming: he had, he said, to settle a boundary dispute between two counties, which would detain him for some days.

The two men spent the hours of the afternoon together; only at the dinner-table did they all three meet again.

Karpathy himself was struck by the paleness of his wife; all through dinner the lady was speechless.

The conversation naturally turned on general subjects. Rudolf had little opportunity of speaking to Dame Karpathy by herself. After dinner Karpathy used generally to have a nap, and it had now become such an indispensable habit with him that he would not have given up his after-dinner repose for the sake of all the potentates of the Orient.

"And meanwhile, little brother," said he to Rudolf, "amuse yourself as you please. Have a chat with my wife, or, if you think it more prudent, make use of my library."

The choice was not difficult.

f.a.n.n.y, as soon as dinner was over, withdrew to the garden. Presently, hearing footsteps approaching, she looked up and beheld Rudolf.

The unexpected apparition of a tiger just escaped from his cage would not have terrified her so. There was no escape from him. They stood face to face.

The young man approached her with friendly courtesy, and a conversation on some general topic began. Rudolf remarked that the flowers in the garden around them were as wondrously beautiful, as if they were sensible of the close proximity of their mistress, and did not wish to be inferior to her in beauty.

"I love flowers," stammered f.a.n.n.y, as if she felt obliged to answer something.

"Ah, if only your ladyship were acquainted with them!"

f.a.n.n.y looked at him inquiringly.

"Yes, if only your ladyship knew the flowers, not merely by name, but through the medium of that world of fancy which is bound up with the life of the flowers! Every flower has its own life, desires, inclinations, grief and sorrows, love and anguish, just as much as we have. The imaginations of our poets give to each of them its own characteristics, and a.s.sociates little fables with them, some of which are very pretty. Indeed, you will find much that is interesting in the ideal lives of the flowers."

Here Rudolf broke off an iris from a side-bed.

"Look, here is a happy family, three husbands and three wives, each husband close beside his wife. They bloom together, they wither together; not one of them is inconstant. This is the bliss of flowers.

These are all happy lovers."

Then Rudolf threw away the iris, and plucked an amaranth.

"Now, here we have the aristocrats. In the higher compartment is the husband, in the lower the wife--upper-cla.s.s married life. Nevertheless, the ashen-purple colour of the flower shows that its life is happy."

Here Rudolf rubbed the amaranth between his fingers, and innumerable little dark seeds fell into the palm of his hand.

"As black as pearls, you see," said Rudolf.

"Yes, as pearls," lisped f.a.n.n.y, thinking it quite natural that they should pour out of the youth's hand into her own, for it was a shame to lose them. There was not a pure pearl in the Indies that she would have exchanged for these little seeds. And now Rudolf threw the amaranth away too.

f.a.n.n.y glanced in the direction of the rejected flower, as if to make sure of the place where it had fallen.

"And now will your ladyship look at those two maples standing side by side? What handsome trees they are! One of them seems to be of a brighter green than the other: that, therefore, is the wife; the darker one is the husband. They also are happy lovers. But now look over yonder! There stands a majestic maple tree all by itself. How yellow its foliage is! Poor thing! it has not found a husband. Some pitiless gardener has planted it beside a nut tree, and that is no mate for it.

How pale, how yellow it looks, poor thing! But, good Heavens! how pale you are! What is the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing, sir," said f.a.n.n.y, "only a little giddiness," and without the slightest hesitation she leant on Rudolf's arm.

He fancied he understood, but he was very far from understanding.

And now they reached the richly furnished conservatory in which a splendid snow-white dahlia with a scarce perceptible rosy tinge in its innermost petals was just then beginning to bloom. It was a great rarity in Europe at that time. Rudolf thought this specimen very beautiful, and maintained that only at Schonbrunn was a more beautiful one to be seen.

And again they fell a-talking about trifling general topics, walking as they talked up and down the garden; and Rudolf fancied that now he had conquered this woman, and the woman fancied that she had already sinned sufficiently to be condemned for ever. It is true she had only been walking arm-in-arm with Rudolf throughout one long hour, and they had only been talking of insignificant, comical, general topics. But oh, through it all she had felt a sinful pleasure in her heart. And what did it matter that n.o.body knew, she herself felt that that happiness was a stolen treasure.

At last they returned to the Castle again.