dge."

"That is all very fine in theory, my dear sir; but I ask you, as a man
of honor, to put yourself in the position in which, for some reason or
another, you find it necessary to have satisfaction for an affront."

"I could not imagine myself placed in any such position," Ivan
answered, quietly. "I offend no one intentionally, and should I do so
inadvertently, I would at once apologize. I give no man the
opportunity to asperse my honor, and if he were foolish enough to do
so I would call upon those who know, and I should deem myself indeed
unfortunate if they did not clear me of any such accusation."

"But suppose the honor of some one near and dear to you were
attacked?"

"I have no one who stands to me in that close relationship."

This last remark cut short the discussion. Nevertheless, before many
hours had passed the Marquis Salista proved to Ivan that there was one
person whose good name was dear to him.

It was at supper, and Angela was present. The marquis was entertaining
her with anecdotes of the revolution, in which he had taken part. He
was bragging fearfully that when he was lieutenant of the cuirassiers
he performed prodigies. At the battle of Izsasseg, with only a handful
of men, he routed the entire regiment of Lehel Hussars, and at Alt
Gzoney he cut the Wilhelm Hussars to pieces, and didn't spare a man.

Not a feature in Ivan's face moved. He listened silently to these
wonderful tales. Angela at last grew weary of all this boasting and
glorification of the Austrians over the degraded Hungarians; she
turned to Ivan, and put to him a direct question:

"Is this all true?"

Ivan shrugged his shoulders. "What can I, a poor miner who lives
underground, know of what goes on on the surface of the great earth?"

Angela need not have anxiety about him. He is a philosopher, and there
is no fear he will go too near the fire.

After supper the company separated; Count Stefan, with Countess
Theudelinde and some other ladies, went into the drawing-room. The
moon shone through the bow-windows. The countess played the piano, and
Angela came and spoke to Ivan.

"Here is your pin," she said. "You know the old superstition--a
present of sharp-pointed instruments dissolves friendship, and those
who wish to be friends never give them?"

"But," answered Ivan, smiling, "the superstition provides an antidote
which breaks the spell. Both friends must laugh over the present."

"Ah, that is why you laughed whe