e from afar
was a young man from Pest who had an official post in the county, a rare
distinction in those days, who was much praised for his culture and who
had spoken once or twice very sensibly at Quarter Sessions,--a certain
Szilard Vamhidy. But what interested the ladies in the young man far
more than his official orations was the rumour connecting his name with
a romantic attachment he was said to have had with the daughter of a
wealthy merchant of Pest. The young man, being disappointed in his love,
had resolved to kill himself, and had persuaded the girl to do likewise
at the same time. Only with difficulty had they been snatched from the
threshold of death. Subsequently, on account of this very thing, the
girl had been compelled to become the wife of the wealthy Hatszegi.

The countess quickly made up her mind that such a young man as this was
an indispensable acquaintance. What! Henrietta's ideal, with whom she
had been in love and who would have gladly embraced death with her! Here
indeed was a rare species, especially in these modern days, which
deserved to be exhibited; and she gave her husband no rest till he had
promised to introduce the young man to her. To this end it was necessary
that he should first of all make the young man's acquaintance himself,
but this was an easy matter. The deputy Lord-lieutenant of the county
knew them both and at his house they learnt to know each other. And
Count Kengyelesy was one of those men whom it is impossible to avoid
when once you have made his acquaintance. It was not very long,
therefore, before he took his new friend, absolutely under his
protection and hauled him off to his wife.

The usual stiffness of a first introduction was speedily broken down by
the quaint conceits of the count.

The countess had donned a flowing antique _moire_ dress and wore her
hair in long English curls to match.

"Come now, friend Szilard!" cried the count, "what do you say? this
dress and that _coiffure_ hardly suit the countess's style of face--eh?"

Many a worthy young man would have been plunged into confusion by such a
silly question, but our Szilard's eternally composed countenance was not
ruffled for an instant.

"Everything becomes the countess," he replied; "but I know of something
which is still more charming and would make any fair woman still more
beautiful."

"Really! You make me quite curious," said the countess.

"Why, Szilard, you a connoisseur!--you surprise m