ch she entered the
current expenses and receipts, with all the details of the family
housekeeping that called for preservation.

After the working days of the week came Sunday, the Lord's day. How
Blanka had looked forward to that first Sunday, how often pictured to
herself the Toroczko church and its Sabbath service! It was a simple
structure, with four blank white walls, and a plain white ceiling
overhead. A gallery ran across each end of the room, and in the middle
stood the pulpit, with the communion table before it. Men and women,
youths and maidens, entered the sacred house through special doors.
First came the young men and took their places in the galleries, the
students all gathering in a body on the same side as the organ. Next
entered the married men in the order of their age, the wardens--or, as
they were popularly known, the "big-heads"--taking their seats in the
first pew facing the pulpit. On the left of the pulpit were seated the
foremost families of the place, with the Adorjans at their head.

For the first time Blanka now saw the people assembled in their holiday
attire, a costume peculiar to the place, and showing a mixture of
Hungarian and German dress. The men wore black dolmans faced with lamb's
fleece, and further decorated with rows of carnelian and amethyst
buttons, the setting of the stones being silver. Under the dolman was
worn a waistcoat of fine leather embroidered with threads of silk and
gold, and around the waist was girt a belt, as broad as one's hand, of
red leather handsomely trimmed with strips of many-coloured skins. To
complete this imposing outfit, there was thrown over one shoulder a
handsome cloak richly embroidered with piping-cord, and furnished with a
high collar made from the fur of the fox. A large silver brooch held the
mantle together at the breast, while six rows of silver clasps adorned
it on each side. The whole costume was luxurious in its appointments,
and yet no one would presume to find fault with it on that score. The
wearer had earned his adornment with the work of his hands.

As soon as the men were seated, the women entered. A Parisian modiste
would have been put to the blush by the ingenuity of design displayed by
these countrywomen's costumes. The dazzlingly white linen, the tasteful
combination of lace, embroidery, and furbelows, the handsome bodice and
woven belt, the richly trimmed cloaks, the skirts hanging in many folds,
the silk pinafores, the black l