lic, it is only proper
that the reason of his apparently objectless conduct should be laid
before the reader of these pages, so that he or she may be in a
position to judge whether he was a fool or a wise man, or something
between the two--a man of sentiment and feeling, who does what his
heart commands him to do. With some natures the heart cannot be
silenced; it has its rights. We may remember that when the Abbe Samuel
paid his first visit to Ivan, he found that gentleman in the act of
writing a refusal to the Countess Theudelinde's invitation; that he
was, in fact, upon the point of returning to Bondavara, and that the
arrival of a letter changed all his plans, and was the cause of his
remaining in Pesth. This letter came from Vienna; the writer was a
certain pianist whose name had been for some years mentioned among the
first class of artists--Arpad Belenyi.

Nearly fourteen years before our story began Ivan had lived for a long
time in the house of the Belenyis. We shall know later what he did
there. Arpad was at that time a child of five years old; he was
already counted a prodigy, and could play long pieces upon the piano.
At that time warlike and patriotic marches were all the fashion. One
day the bread-winner of the family, the father, died suddenly. The
widow was in despair, especially for her orphaned boy. Ivan consoled
her with the promise that he would look after him, and provide for his
education.

On account of certain circumstances, some months after, however, Ivan
had to leave the family Belenyi somewhat suddenly, and it seemed
doubtful if he should ever see them again. Ivan at parting gave all
the money he could spare to the widow, and told her to get Arpad a
good musical education, such as would fit him for an artistic career.
The boy, he thought, would attain eminence, and make a livelihood by
his art. And here let it be clearly understood that Ivan was neither a
friend of Belenyi nor the lover of Madame Belenyi; neither was he
connected with the family in any way, nor was he in duty bound to do
as he did. For years the Belenyis heard nothing from Ivan, nor he from
them. Once, on his inquiring about them, he was told that in
consequence of a lawsuit they had lost their house, had left the town,
and that neither mother nor son had since been heard of. Then, after
another spell of years, Arpad Belenyi's name began to be mentioned in
different newspapers, always as a young and astonishingly clever
ar