tta went to her chamber, leaving her husband with Mr. Gerzson and
his guests.
Such was Henrietta's first night after her marriage. She at least was so
far fortunate as not to be obliged to see her husband. Towards morning
she dozed off, and when she awoke again she found that the whole
company had long ago set off fox-hunting, nor did they return till late
in the evening, tired out, wet through, and dripping with sweat.
Henrietta meanwhile had discovered the remains of a dilapidated library
in an old disused huntsman's hut, had ferretted out of it a few Latin
books, and had amused herself with them,--at least so far as she was
able, for many of the leaves had been torn out and used as tinder.
It is notorious that tired sportsmen are about the dullest dogs on
earth; so Henrietta felt that she would not lose much when her husband
told her she had better go to rest early, as they must be up betimes
next morning. And, indeed, next morning they were off so early that,
except their old host, not one of the hunting party was there to bid
them God speed! But he again conducted his lady-guest to her carriage on
his crippled arm and arranged her cushions comfortably for her with his
three-fingered hand.
It was a very fine day for a journey, and the windows of the two
carriages were let down so that Henrietta was able to view the landscape
stretching out before her. She had never been here before, it was all
new to her. She discovered from Clementina's lamentations that they had
still a three days' journey before they reached home, and that they
would spend the coming night at the castle of Count Kengyelesy. The
coachmen had told Margari so, and he passed the news on to Clementina.
It also appeared that Count Kengyelesy was a very curious sort of man,
who contradicted Baron Hatszegi in everything, yet for all that they
were never angry with and always glad to see each other. The count was
also said to have a young wife who did not love him. So ran the gossip
of the servants. It was all one to Henrietta what they said about Count
Kengyelesy and his consort.
Between five and six in the afternoon they reached the count's castle,
which lay outside the village in the midst of rich tobacco and rapeseed
fields, and enclosed on three sides by a splendid English garden; the
place was arranged with taste and evidently well-cared for.
That the count expected the arrival of the Hatszegis was evident from
the fact that dinner was awa
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