The Szentirmays had also arrived
there, and the beautiful countess and her worthy husband were the ideals
of the highest circles, and everybody tried hard to make their
acquaintance. But the greatest commotion of all was made by the arrival
of Mr. Kecskerey. Without him the whole winter season would have been
abominably dull. There was no mention even of balls and assemblies until
he came back again. Some men have a peculiar talent, a special faculty,
for arranging such things, and it was "our friend" Kecskerey's
speciality. The whole world of fashion called Kecskerey "our friend," so
it is only proper that we should give him the same title.

His first business was to get together a sufficient number of gentlemen
to form a club where only eminent and distinguished members of society
would assemble. Kecskerey himself was a singularly interesting person,
and when he had dressed himself for the evening, and laid himself out to
be agreeable, he had such a store of piquant anecdotes to draw upon, all
more or less personal experiences during his artistic ramblings, that
even the tea-tables were deserted and the witty gentleman was surrounded
by merry crowds of eager listeners.

Something particular was in the wind now, for there was a considerable
whispering among Kecskerey's _habitues_, and they let it be known that
should he be seen conversing with Abellino, it would be as well to be
within earshot, as something unusually interesting would be going on.

"Why, what great misfortune can have befallen Abellino that our friend
Kecskerey can speak of him so lightly?" inquired Livius, turning towards
Rudolf. "Generally speaking, he is in the habit of treating him with
greater respect in view of his ultimate claims to the Karpathy estates."

Rudolf shrugged his shoulders. What did it matter to him what befell
Abellino?

Look; now he is coming in! He had still that defiant, devil-may-care
step, that haughty, insolent look, as if the whole world were full of
his lackeys, that repellent beauty, for his features were as vacant as
they were handsome.

"Ah, good evening, Bela; good evening, Bela!" screeched our friend
Kecskerey, while Abellino was still some distance off; he did not move
from his place, but sat there with his arms embracing his legs like the
two of clubs as it is painted on old Hungarian cards.

Abellino went towards Kecskerey. He attributed the fact that he drew
after him a whole group of gentlemen, who quitted