To this end it was necessary
that he should first of all make the young man's acquaintance himself,
but this was an easy matter. The deputy Lord-lieutenant of the county
knew them both and at his house they learnt to know each other. And
Count Kengyelesy was one of those men whom it is impossible to avoid
when once you have made his acquaintance. It was not very long,
therefore, before he took his new friend, absolutely under his
protection and hauled him off to his wife.
The usual stiffness of a first introduction was speedily broken down by
the quaint conceits of the count.
The countess had donned a flowing antique _moire_ dress and wore her
hair in long English curls to match.
"Come now, friend Szilard!" cried the count, "what do you say? this
dress and that _coiffure_ hardly suit the countess's style of face--eh?"
Many a worthy young man would have been plunged into confusion by such a
silly question, but our Szilard's eternally composed countenance was not
ruffled for an instant.
"Everything becomes the countess," he replied; "but I know of something
which is still more charming and would make any fair woman still more
beautiful."
"Really! You make me quite curious," said the countess.
"Why, Szilard, you a connoisseur!--you surprise me!" cried the count.
"I mean those blue stuff gowns with white spots, which lend quite a
peculiar charm to our women, especially if you set it off with an
old-fashioned _csipkekoeto_.
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