until she knew
that he never, never could come back; now she might as well obey her
mother and put herself right with God, since she cared so little what
became of her.

And the beauty of Marosfalva was tokened to Eros Bela in the spring of
the following year, and presently it was given out that the wedding
would take place on the feast of Holy Michael and All Angels at the end
of September. Congratulations poured in upon the happy pair, rejoicings
were held in every house of note in the village. Everyone was pleased at
the marriage, pleased that the noted beauty would still have her home in
Marosfalva, pleased that Eros Bela's wealth would all remain in the
place.

And Elsa received these congratulations and attended these rejoicings
with unvarying equanimity and cheerfulness. There was nothing morbid or
self-centred in the girl's attitude. People who did not know--and no
one really did--and who saw her at mass on Sundays or walking
arm-in-arm with Bela in the afternoons would say that she was perfectly
happy. Not a radiant bride certainly, not a typical Hungarian
_menyecske_ whose laughter echoes from end to end of the village, whose
merry voice rings all the day, and whose pretty bare feet trot briskly
up and down from her cottage to the river, or to the church, or to a
neighbour's house, but an equable, contented bride, a fitting wife for a
person of such high consideration as was Eros Bela.

Her manner to him was always equally pleasant, and though the young pair
did not exchange very loving glances--at any rate not in public--yet
they were never known to quarrel, which was really quite remarkable,
seeing that Bela's temper had not improved of late.

He was giving way to drink more than he used to, and there were some
ugly rumours about my lord the Count's dissatisfaction with his
erstwhile highly-valued bailiff. Many people said that Bela would get
his dismissal presently if he did not mend his ways; but then he very
likely wouldn't care if he did get dismissed, he was a rich man and
could give his full time to cultivating his own land.

This afternoon, while he was talking with Irma and sullenly watching his
future wife, he appeared to be quite sober, until a moment ago when
unreasoning rage seized hold of him and he shouted to Elsa in a rough
and peremptory manner. After that, his face, which usually was quite
pallid, became hotly flushed, and his one seeing eye had a restless,
quivering look in it.

No