that abroad no one understood it, as it was written in Hungarian.
He was wrong, however; some one did read it--but of this again. One
day, as Ivan was making his preparations for his homeward journey, he
received from the Countess Theudelinde Bondavara a card of invitation
for a _soiree_, which would take place three evenings later.

"Aha!" thought Ivan, "another thank-offering. It is well that it did
not come sooner."

He sat down to his writing-table and answered the invitation in the
most courteous manner, regretting his inability to avail himself of it
in consequence of his immediate departure from Pesth. He was in the
act of sealing the letter when the door opened and the Abbe Samuel was
announced. Ivan expressed his great pleasure at receiving so
distinguished a visitor.

"I could not let you leave Pesth without coming," answered the abbe,
in his most friendly manner. "My visit was due, not only because I am
much indebted for your kind assistance at Bondavara, but also because
I felt it a necessity to tell you what an honor I count it to know
such a distinguished scholar as you have proved yourself to be."

Ivan felt inclined to say that he was neither distinguished nor a
scholar; he remained, however, silent.

"I trust," continued the abbe, seating himself upon the sofa, "that
you intend to make a long stay in Pesth?"

"I am leaving to-morrow," returned Ivan, dryly.

"Oh, impossible! We cannot lose you so soon. I imagine you have a card
for the Countess Theudelinde's next _soiree_?"

"I regret that I am prevented from accepting her agreeable invitation;
I have pressing business which necessitates my return."

The abbe laughed. "Confess honestly," he said, "that if you had no
other reason to return home, you would run away from an entertainment
which would bore you infinitely."

"Well, then, if you will have the truth, I do confess that a _soiree_
is to me something of a penance."

"These _soirees_, however, are on a different footing from those
_reunions_ which, I agree with you, are more pain than pleasure, and
where a stranger feels himself 'out of it,' as the saying goes.
Countess Theudelinde aims at having a _salon_, and succeeds admirably.
She receives all the best people. I don't mean by that generic word
only the upper ten, but the best in the true sense, the best that
Pesth affords in art, in literature, in science; the aristocracy of
birth, talent, and beauty."

Ivan shook his head incred