e third demon, who exclaimed: "There is nothing here!"

But all at once he felt a hand laid on his arm. It was Sztolarik.

"It was, and is no more," he said. "But never mind, Fate intended it to
be so. For the future you will not, at all events, run after a shadow,
you will be yourself again, and that is worth a good deal, after all."

CHAPTER III.

LITTLE VERONICA IS TAKEN AWAY.

But it was of no use Sztolarik preaching about the uselessness of
worldly goods, for those worldly goods are very pleasant to have.

When a favorite child dies, the members of the family always pronounce
very wise words, which are supposed to comfort one another, such as:
"Who knows how the child would have turned out? It might have come to
the gallows in time; perhaps it was better it had died now," etc. But
for all that, wisdom has never yet dried our tears.

Sztolarik said all he could think of to console Gyuri, but the young
lawyer was quite cast down at the thought that his dreams would never
now be realized; his whole life was before him, dark and threatening.
But the world was the same as of old, and everything went just the same
as though Widow Adamecz had never burned the handle of the umbrella.

The hands of the parish clock pointed to the Roman figure II., and the
chimes rang out on the air; the servants laid the table for dinner,
Mrs. Adamecz brought in the soup, and his reverence led his guests into
the dining-room, and placed them right and left of Madame Krisbay, when
all at once they noticed that Veronica was missing.

"I was just going to ask," said Madame Krisbay, "if she had been with
the gentlemen?"

"I thought she was with you," said the priest.

"I have not seen her for two hours."

"Nor I."

"Nor we."

"Perhaps she is in the kitchen?"

Madame Krisbay looked vexed, got up from her seat, and went into the
kitchen to call her pupil, but returned at once with the remark that she
had not been seen there either.

"Where can she be?" exclaimed the priest, and ran out to look for her,
sending the servants to some of her favorite seats in the garden,
thinking she might have gone there to read, and have forgotten the time.

Mrs. Adamecz grumbled in the kitchen, for the dinner was spoiling.

"Well, serve the dinner," said Father Janos, for, of course, he could
not keep his guests waiting, especially as Sztolarik wanted to return
home as soon as possible.

So the dishes were brought in one after the ot