o!"

Teresa broke open the letter, read it through, and looked at Boltay.
Then she read it through again. She read it through a third time, and
again she looked at Boltay.

"It is Greek, indeed," said she. "I don't understand it. You have a look
at it."

And she handed the letter to Boltay.

"Hum!" growled the old gentleman, fancying that the letter was full of
stupid foreign terms, and, to his amazement, he read these words--

"MY DEAR AUNT,

"I know everything. Don't let that woman, whom I cannot call mother
without a feeling of horror, come to our house again. Send word to
Mr. John Karpathy, and tell him to come to me at once. I have
something very serious to say to him, which admits of no delay.
Send immediately.

"Your affectionate kinswoman,

"FANNY."

What was the meaning of it? What had happened? When had there been time
for anything to happen? They had had their coffee so nicely and quietly
together, whispering so confidentially all the time, and kissed each
other's hands at parting. Mr. Boltay did not understand it at all.

But Teresa began to understand.

So they had to send at once to John Karpathy. Who was to go? Boltay
resolved to go himself. He had good legs, and would be there in a
moment. So he went and gave the message to old Palko, who communicated
it to his master forthwith. The bridegroom understood it in a moment,
and lost no time in getting into his carriage and setting out. Boltay
and Teresa sat beside him in the carriage. Nobody saw them through the
closed windows, and five fiery steeds carried them along the king's
high-road at a gallop, taking but a couple of hours to accomplish the
journey, whereas Master Boltay at his more leisurely pace would have
taken four at least.

Fanny herself received her distinguished guest with a face even paler
than usual; but this pallor rather became her. Squire John was beside
himself for rapture. He would not give his fair bride time to approach
him, but, putting his hand solemnly upon his breast, addressed her in
language very unusual for him--

"My dear young lady, so help me God, the one object of my life will be
how to make you happy!"

"And I, sir," said Fanny, in a calm and resolute voice, "shall consider
it my highest duty to do honour to your name. And now I would ask you
all three, my friends, to grant me a few hours' private interview where
we shall not be disturbed."

These words were spok