low, and sensitive, pointed ears--Duna and Bundas, the Hungarian names
for the Danube and the Velu.

These hounds, and an enormous dog of the Himalayas, with a thick, yellow
coat and long, sharp teeth, a half-savage beast, bearing the name of
Ortog (Satan), were Marsa's companions in her walks; and their submission
to their young mistress, whom they could have knocked down with one pat
of their paws, gave the Tzigana reputation for eccentricity; which,
however, neither pleased nor displeased her, as she was perfectly
indifferent to the opinion of the public at large.

She continued to inhabit, near the forest of Saint-Germain, beyond the
fashionable avenues, the villa, ornamented with the holy Muscovite icon,
which Prince Tchereteff had purchased; and she persisted in remaining
there alone with old Vogotzine, who regarded her respectfully with his
round eyes, always moist with 'kwass' or brandy.

Flying the crowded city, eager for space and air, a true daughter of
Hungary, Marsa loved to ride through the beautiful, silent park, down the
long, almost deserted avenues, toward the bit of pale blue horizon
discernible in the distance at the end of the sombre arch formed by the
trees. Birds, startled by the horses' hoofs, rose here and there out of
the bushes, pouring forth their caroling to the clear ether; and Marsa,
spurring her thoroughbred, would dash in a mad gallop toward a little,
almost unknown grove of oaks, with thickets full of golden furze and pink
heather, where woodcutters worked, half buried in the long grass peppered
with blue cornflowers and scarlet poppies.

Or, at other times, with Duna and Bundas bounding before her,
disappearing, returning, disappearing again with yelps of joy, it was
Marsa's delight to wander alone under the great limes of the Albine
avenue--shade over her head, silence about her--and then slowly, by way
of a little alley bordered with lofty poplars trembling at every breath
of wind, to reach the borders of the forest. In ten steps she would
suddenly find herself plunged in solitude as in a bath of verdure, shade
and oblivion. The sweet silence surrounding her calmed her, and she would
walk on and on though the thick grass under the great trees. The trunks
of the giant oaks were clothed in robes of emerald moss, and wild flowers
of all descriptions raised their heads amid the grass. There was no
footstep, no sound; a bee lazily humming, a brilliant butterfly darting
across the path,