ed never have come about. She could have
mourned for Andor quietly by herself, and the necessity of a wealthy
son-in-law would probably never have presented itself before her
mother's mind.

But now she followed Ilona into the best bedroom, the sanctum sanctorum
of every Hungarian peasant home--the room that bears most distinctly the
impress of the housewifely character that presides over it. And as Elsa
stood upon the threshold of her future sister-in-law's precious domain,
she forgot her momentary sadness in the hope of a brighter future, when
she, too, would make her new home orderly and sweet-scented, with
beautifully-polished furniture and floors radiant with cleanliness. The
thought of what her own best bedroom would be like delighted her fancy.
It was a lovely room, for Bela's house was larger by far than his
sister's, the rooms were wider and more lofty, and the windows had
large, clear panes of glass in them. She would have two beautiful
bedsteads in the room, and the bedspreads would be piled up to the
ceiling with down pillows and duvets covered in scarlet twill; she would
have two beautiful spreads of crochet-work, a washstand with marble top,
and white crockery, and there would be a stencilling of rose garlands on
the colour-washed walls.

So now her habitual little sigh was not quite so wistful as it had been
before; the future need not after all be quite so black as she sometimes
feared, and surely the good God would be kind to her in her married
life, seeing that she obeyed His commandment and honoured her mother by
doing what her mother wished.

Ilona in the best bedroom was busy as usual with duster and brush. She
did not altogether approve of Bela's choice of a wife, and her greetings
of Elsa were always of a luke-warm character, and were usually
accompanied by lengthy lectures on housewifery and the general
management of a kitchen.

Elsa always listened deferentially to these lectures, with eyes downcast
and an attitude of meekness; but in her own heart she was thankful that
her future home would lie some distance out of the village and that
Ilona would probably have but little time to walk out there very often.

In the meanwhile, however, she hated these Sunday afternoon visits, with
their attendant homilies from Ilona first, then from Aladar--who was
self-important and dictatorial, and finally from Bela, who was
invariably disagreeable and sarcastic whenever he saw his sister and his
fiancee