"
"Don't forget to invite the countess to Hidvar for the vintage
festival," whispered Hatszegi to his wife.
Henrietta accordingly made the effort, and when they rose from the
breakfast she timidly expressed the wish that the Kengyelesys would do
them the honour to return their visit at Hidvar.
"Oh, we will be sure to come!" the fair countess hastened to reply,
"Squirrel will bring me to you in the autumn and we will remain a whole
month."
Kengyelesy also courteously accepted the invitation and then taking
Henrietta's little hand between his own palms so that he could just
manage to kiss the tips of her fingers, he said to her in a strange and
piteous sort of voice: "But then you must promise to love our friend
Leonard here a little better than you have done hitherto."
A shudder ran through Henrietta's body at these words. The very air of
the room was all at once difficult to breathe, and she only felt better
when she sat in the carriage again. But even there she was haunted by
some unendurable, undefinable, torturing feeling which struck her still
more unpleasantly when Clementina remarked: "Yes, there is nothing but
good land on this _puszta_."
Why, what could it matter to the honest creature whether the land was
good or not, it was surely all one to her?
"Two thousand acres in one lot, nothing but first-class land."
"How do you know that?" asked Henrietta.
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