AN AMIABLE MAN
Baron Hátszegi was certainly a very amiable man. He had a handsome face
full of manly pride, sparkling eyes, and a powerful yet elegant figure.
He moved and spoke with graceful ease, bore himself nobly, picked his
words--in short, was a perfect gentleman. Mr. Demetrius was quite taken
with him, although Hátszegi hardly exchanged a word with him, naturally
devoting himself principally to the widowed lady who played the part of
hostess. What the conversation was really about nobody distinctly
recollected--the usual commonplaces no doubt, balls, soirees,
horse-racing. Henrietta took no part in the talk; Mr. John, on the other
hand, had a word to say on every subject, and, although nobody paid any
attention to him, he enjoyed himself vastly.
When Hátszegi had departed, John, with a beaming face, asked Madame
Langai what she thought of the young man.
Instead of replying, Madame Langai asked what had induced him to bring
him there.
"Well, but he's a splendid fellow, isn't he?"
"You said yesterday that he was a vagabond."
"I said so, I know, but it is not true."
"You said, too, that he was a robber."
"What! I said that? Impossible. I didn't say that."
Old Demetrius here intervened as a peacemaker.
"You said it, John, you did indeed; but you were angry, and at such
times a man says more than he means."
"So far from being a robber or a vagabond," replied John, "he is one of
the principal landowners in the Hátszegi district. How _could_ I have
said such things! He has a castle that is like a fortress. He is like a
prince, a veritable prince in his own domains. He is just like a petty
sovereign. I must have been downright mad to call him a vagabond. . . ."
"Yet, yesterday, you would have called him out," continued Madame Langai
teasingly.
"Yes, I was angry with him then, but there are circumstances which may
reconcile a couple of would-be duellists, are there not?"
"Oh, certainly, if a man is a man of business before all things, or has
perhaps a valuable house or two on his hands."
"This has nothing to do with business or selling houses. If you must
know," he continued, lowering his voice, "it is about something entirely
different, but of the very greatest importance."
"Indeed?" returned Madame Langai, "a new Alexander the Great, I suppose,
who has gone forth to conquer, and who has come to look not for a house,
but for a house and home perhaps?"
She thought to herself that it was some adventurer whom her brother
John would palm off upon her as a husband so as to get her away from the
old man.
"Something of the sort," replied John. "Yes, you have guessed half--but
the wrong half."
"I am glad to hear it."
"Ah!" put in the old man sarcastically, "Matilda will never marry again,
I'm sure; she loves her old dad too much and feels far too happy at home
to do that."
"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed John scornfully, "I did not mean Matilda, I was
not thinking of her. Ho, ho, ho! Madame Langai imagines that _she_ is
the only person in the house whose hand can be wooed and won."
Dame Langai, with a shrug, looked incredulously round the room to see if
there was anybody else who could possibly become the object of the
baron's sighs. All at once her eyes accidentally encountered those of
Henrietta, and immediately she knew even more than her brother John did.
For she now clearly understood three things: the first was that
Henrietta had taken in John's meaning more quickly than she had done,
the second was that John had brought the suitor to the house on
Henrietta's account, and the third was that Henrietta loathed the man.
She at once bade Miss Kleary give Henrietta an extra lesson on the piano
in the adjoining room, and when they had taken her at her word and
disappeared, she said to John in her usual quiet, mincing tone:
"You surely do not mean to give Henrietta to that man?"
"Why not, pray?"
"Because she is still a mere child, a mere schoolgirl; five years hence
it will be quite time enough to provide her with a husband."
"But the girl is sixteen if she is a day."
"Yes, and delicate, sickly, and nervous."
"She will soon be well enough when she is married."
"And who, may I ask, _is_ this suitor of yours. Is it not your duty,
Demetrius Lapussa, as the girl's grandfather, to make the fullest
enquiries about any man who may sue for your grand-daughter's hand? Is
it not your duty, I say, to find out who and what he is and everything
relating to him? For brother John may be very much mistaken in fancying
his dear friend to be a wealthy and amiable nobleman. Whether he be
amiable or not does not concern you personally, I know; but you ought
certainly to know how he stands, for he may have castles and mansions
and yet be up to the very ears in debt. In such a case if he is a
nobleman so much the worse for you: for he will then have all the
greater claim upon you. It may cost you dearly to admit a ruined baron
into the bosom of your family."
John grew yellow with rage: "How dare you talk like that of anyone you
do not know?" he cried.
"Then, do you know him any better?"
But here the old man intervened:
"You're a fool, John," said he. "Matilda is right. I will send for my
lawyer, Mr. Sipos. He understands all about such things and will advise
us in the matter. We _must_ find out how the baron stands."