ut be so kind as to give me your arm to lean
on: why I believe you are still afraid of me: it is so difficult, you
know, for some one who is not used to it, to walk along these muddy
rough country roads.--I am going to sell my property which I have won,
because we must go to live in Vienna."

"Indeed?"

"Because Melanie's intended lives there too."

"Indeed?"

"Perhaps you would know him too,--you were once good friends--Pepi
Gyali!"

"Indeed?"

"Oh, he has made a great career! An extraordinarily famous man. Quite a
wonder, that young man!"

"Indeed?"

"But you only taunt me with your series of 'indeeds.' Tell me how you
came here. How have I found you?"

"I am steward here on Mr. Topandy's estate!"

"Steward! Ha ha! To your kinsman?"

"He does not know I am his kinsman."

"So you are incognito? Ever since _then_? Just like me: I have used six
names since that day. That is famous. And now we meet by chance. So much
the better; at least you can lead me to Topandy's house: the atheist's
dogs will not tear me to pieces if I am under your protection.--But
after that you must help again to defend me."

Lorand was displeased by the fact that this woman turned into jest
those memories in which the shame of both lay buried.

Topandy was on the verandah of the castle in company with the girls when
Lorand led in the strange lady.

Lorand went first to Melanie:

"Here is the one you have so often sighed after," ... then turning to
Topandy--"Madame Balnokhazy."

For a moment Melanie was taken aback. She merely stared in astonishment
at the new arrival, as if it were difficult to recognize her at once,
while her mother, with a passion quite dramatic, rushed towards her,
embraced her, clasped her to her bosom, and covered her with kisses. She
sobbed and kneeled before her; as one may see times without number in
the closing scene of the fifth act of any pathetic drama.

"How beautiful you have become! What an angel! My darling, only, beloved
Melanie!--for whom I prayed every day, of whom every day I
dreamed.--Well, tell me, have you thought sometimes of me?"

Melanie whispered in her mother's ear:

"Later, when we are alone."

The woman understood that well ("later when we are alone, we can talk of
cold, prosaic things: but when they see us, let us weep, faint, and
embrace.") This scene of meeting was going to begin anew, only Topandy
was good enough to kindly request her ladyship to step into the room,
w