until fortune desires you to let us go
forever."

At this point Madame Balnokhazy put on an extremely matronly face. She
wished him to understand what she meant.

"I find your wish very natural," said Topandy briefly, looking again in
the woman's face as one who would say "What else do you know for our
amusement?"

"Till then I render you endless thanks for taking the part of my poor
deserted orphan. Heaven will reward you for your goodness."

"I didn't do it for payment."

Madame Balnokhazy laughed modestly, as though in doubt whether to
understand a joke when the inhabitants of higher spheres were under
consideration.

"Dear uncle, you are still as jesting as ever in certain respects."

"As godless--you wished to say, did you not? Indeed I have changed but
little in my old age."

"Oh we know you well!" said the lady in a voice of absolute grace: "you
only show that outwardly, but everyone knows your heart."

"And runs before it when he can, does he not?"

"Oh, no: quite the contrary," said Madame apologetically, "don't
misinterpret our present departures to prove how much we all think of
that beneficial public life which you are leading. I shall whisper one
word to you, which will convince you of our most sincere respect for
you."

That one word she did whisper to Topandy, resting her gloved hand on his
shoulder--:

"I wish to ask my dear uncle to give Melanie away, when Heaven brings
round the happy day."

At these words Topandy smiled: and, putting Madame Balnokhazy's hand
under his arm, said:

"With pleasure. I will do more. If on that certain day of Heaven the sun
shines as I desire it, this my godless hand shall make two people happy.
But if that day of Heaven be illumined otherwise than I wish, I shall
give 'quantum satis' of blessing, love congratulatory verses, long sighs
and all that costs nothing. So what I shall answer to this question
depends upon that happy day."

Madame Balnokhazy clasped Topandy's hand to her heart and with eyes
upturned to Heaven, prayed that Providence might bless so good a
relation's choice with good humor, and then drew Melanie too towards
him, that she might render thanks to her good uncle for the gracious
care he had bestowed upon her.

Lorand gazed at the group dispiritedly, while Czipra, unnoticed, escaped
from the room.

"And now perhaps Lorand will be so kind as to accompany us to
Sarvoelgyi's house."

"As far as the gate."

"Where is your dear frie