and waltzes would be danced, and at
eleven o'clock the ladies would rise and retire, and only a few
dandies--the younger and the older men as a rule--would remain behind
for a glass or two, or a hand at cards.

From this every one can easily see that at these evening entertainments
there was not the slightest thing that could be considered an offence
against good manners or good morals. Oh no! Mr. Kecskerey would never
have allowed such a thing; he was too proud of his renown for that. He
was no minister of love, not he! He only gave people the opportunity of
meeting together if they liked, and that is entirely a personal matter,
of course.

An especially grand assembly was to be held at Mr. Kecskerey's on the
day fixed for Fanny's appearance by Abellino and his friends. They
naturally sent out all the invitations, as the money for the
entertainment came out of their pockets, and all the elegant world of
their acquaintance was to do honour to the occasion.

On the morning of the critical day Mrs. Meyer, dressed in the self-same
garments which Master Boltay had got for her, took her seat in a
hackney-coach, and drove out of town. All the way along she was
concocting the further details of the great affair. Leaving the coach
standing on the outskirts of the wood, she would make her way on foot to
Boltay's dwelling, and there she would say that she had brought the
things from town. Fanny would then go out for a walk with her under the
pretext of looking at the crops, and on reaching the coach they would
step in, shut the door, and off they would set at full tilt without
asking leave of anybody.

Maturing thus her amiable designs, she safely reached the meadows near
Boltay's dwelling. Providence was so far merciful to her that she did
not break an arm or a leg on the way. On reaching her journey's end,
however, a very cruel surprise awaited her, for in reply to her
inquiries about Fanny, the servants informed her that the young lady had
driven into Pressburg early that very morning.

She was amazed, and not without reason.

"I suppose the old people took her to town?" said she.

"No; they went away at daybreak. The young lady had departed only a
couple of hours ago in a hired carriage."

Alas, alas! What was the girl thinking about? Perhaps she only wanted to
steal a march upon her mother, and look after the lucrative business
herself unaided? Perhaps some one had explained to her that it was best
altogether to d