y were to keep out of the way,
taking it for granted that he was riding for a bet, or else that he
was a messenger sent for a doctor or fire-engines.

* * * * *

It was six days since the pretty widow had sent Uncle Nanasy abroad to
make preparations for her wedding and to assemble her relations. All
her orders had been scrupulously attended to. And the _estafette_ whom
Julia had sent to recall him having arrived half an hour too late at
each place, Uncle Nanasy returned to S---- without having seen him,
and entered his niece's apartment with a huge bandbox under his arm.

"Here I am, darling!--I have executed all your orders," he exclaimed;
"and here are your bridal dresses--this Varga made, and is it not
splendid? And this is from Keresztessy, worthy of an empress! And here
is the dispensation in my pocket--and the confections are in that
great case outside--and all our relations will be here: went about
myself, darling, and invited them all--But what's the matter? You are
not pleased with the dresses?"

Julia, trembling with vexation and rage, had pushed away the box
violently, and it rolled on the floor, crushing all the finery.

"Take these dresses out of my sight!" she exclaimed, in a voice choked
with passion. "I don't want to see them--nor the dispensation, nor
confections, nor relations, nor yourself either, you facetious,
meddling, old fool!"

Uncle Nanasi's eyes and mouth opened wide at this unexpected
reception; his jaws moved, as if endeavouring to articulate, though he
was utterly incapable of pronouncing a syllable.

When a man discharges all the business confided to him in the most
punctual way possible, just as he expects to receive at least a kiss
in return, and instead of it, has a box thrown at his head amid a
storm of abuse, what is he to suppose?

Nanasy bacsi was beyond supposition; and, to add to his amazement, his
fair niece had thrown herself down on the sofa, and was sobbing
bitterly.

At that instant the sound of horses' hoofs was heard in the court, and
Julia's maid burst into the room with a look of astonishment,
"Miss!--Madam!--gracious lady! Master Kalman's horse!"

"Don't dare to admit him," cried the lady, starting passionately from
her seat.

"But it is not Master Kalman, only his horse, with a strange young
gentleman."

"Who?"

Who, indeed, but the unfortunate Sandor, who had been carried across
the district to the principal town of the