at
Elsa had been sent along by her mother to bring him back, and a
comforting glow of inward satisfaction went right through his veins as,
after a slight moment of hesitation, he made up his mind to await Elsa's
coming here, to listen to her apologies, to read her the lecture which
she fully deserved, but nevertheless to continue the plan of conduct
which he had mapped out for himself.

CHAPTER XXIII

"On the eve of one's wedding day too."

He could not see Elsa till she was quite close to him, and even then he
could only vaguely distinguish the quaint contour of her wide-sleeved
shift and of her voluminous petticoats.

But his cigar had gone out, and when Elsa stood quite close to him, and
softly murmured his name, he struck a match very deliberately, and held
it to the cigar so that it lighted up his face for a few seconds. He
wanted her to see how indifferent was the expression in his eye, and
that there was not the slightest trace of a welcoming smile lurking
round his lips.

Therefore he held the lighted match close to his face much longer than
was necessary; he only dropped it when it began to scorch his fingers.
Then he blew a big cloud of smoke out of his cigar straight into her
face, and only after that did he say, speaking very roughly:

"What do you want?"

"Mother sent me, Bela," she said timidly, as she placed a trembling
little hand on his coat-sleeve. "I wouldn't have come, only she ordered
me, and I couldn't disobey her, so I . . ."

"Couldn't disobey your mother, eh?" he sneered; "you couldn't defy her
as you did me, what?"

"I didn't mean to defy you, Bela," she said, striving with all her might
to keep back the rebellious words which surged out of her overburdened
heart to her quivering lips. "I couldn't be unkind to Jeno and Karoly,
and all my old friends, just this last evening, when I am still a girl
amongst them."

"You preferred being obstinate and wilful toward me, I suppose?"

"Don't let us quarrel, Bela," she pleaded.

"I am not quarrelling," he retorted. "I came to the barn just now
looking forward to the pleasure of having you to myself for a little
bit. There was a lot I wanted to say to you--just quietly, in a corner
by our two selves. And how did I find you? Hot and panting, after an
hour's gyrations, hardly able to stand, and certainly not able to speak;
and at my simple request that you should give up a dance of which I
whole-heartedly disapprove, you turned on m