us entrust the drawing of lots to a third party."

"To whom?"

"There is your brother, Desi."

"Desi?"--Lorand felt a twitching pain at his heart:--"that one's own
brother should draw one's death warrant!"

"As yet his hand is innocent. Nor shall he know for what he is drawing.
I will tell him some tale. And so both of us may be tranquil during the
drawing of lots."

Just at that moment Desiderius opened the door.

He related that the governess was not going, but the stout aunt was to
accompany "auntie" to the ball. And the "frauelein" had sent Lorand a
written dance-programme, which Desiderius had torn up on the way.

He tore it up because he was angry that other people were in so
frivolous a mood at a time when he felt so exalted. For that reason he
had no intention of handing over the programme.

Hearing of the stout aunt, Pepi laughed and then began to feign horror.

"Great heavens, Lorand: the seven fat kine of the Old Testament will be
there in one: and one of us must dance with this monster. One of us will
have to move from its place that mountain, which even Mahomet could not
induce to stir, and waltz with it. Please undertake it for my sake."

Lorand was annoyed by the ill-timed jest which he did not understand.

"Well, to be sure I cannot make the sacrifice: it must be either you or
I. I don't mind, let's draw lots for it, and see who must dance this
evening with the tower of St. Stephen's."

"Very well,"--Lorand now understood what the other wanted.

"Desi will draw lots for us."

"Of course. Just step outside a moment, Desi, that you may not see on
which paper which of our names was written." Desiderius stepped outside.

"He must not see that the tickets are already prepared," murmured
Lorand:----

"You may come in now."

"In this hat are both our names," said Gyali, holding the hat before
Desiderius: "draw one of them out: open it, read it, and then put both
names into the fire. The one whose name you draw will do the honors to
the Cochin-China Emperor's white elephant."

The two foes turned round toward the window. Lorand gazed out, while
Gyali played with his watch-chain.

The child unsuspectingly stepped up to the hat that served as the "urna
sortis," and drew out one of the pieces of paper.

He opened it and read the name,

"Lorand Aronffy."

"Put them in the fire," said Gyali.

Desiderius threw two pieces of lilac paper into the fire.

They were cold May days; outside the