Part 95 (1/2)

Topandy interrupted kindly.

”How could I jest with G.o.d now, when I am preparing to enter his presence?”

”How could I jest with your heart?” said Lorand.

”And with a dying girl,” panted Czipra.

”No, no, you will not die, you will get well again, and we shall be happy.”

”You say that now when I am dying,” said the girl with sad reproach.

”You tell me the whole beautiful world is thine, now, when of that world I shall have nothing but the clod of earth, which you will throw upon me.”

”No, my child,” said Topandy, ”Lorand asked your hand of me yesterday evening, and was only awaiting his mother's approval to tell you yourself his feelings towards you.”

A quick flash of joy darted over the girl's face, and then it darkened again.

”Why, I know,” she said brus.h.i.+ng aside her tangled curls from her face, ”I know your intentions are good. You are doing with me what people do with sick children. 'Get well! We'll buy you beautiful clothes, golden toys, we'll take you to places of amus.e.m.e.nt, for journeys--we shall be good-humored--will never annoy you:--only get well.' You want to give the poor girl pleasure, to make her better, I thank you for that too.”

”You will not believe me,” said Lorand, ”but you will believe the minister's word. See last night I wrote a letter to mother about you: it lies sealed on my writing-table. Reverend sir, be so kind as to open and read it before her. She will believe you if you tell her we are not cajoling her.”

The minister opened the letter, while Czipra, holding Lorand's hand, listened with rapt attention to the words that were read:

”MY DEAR MOTHER:

”After the many sorrows and pains I have continuously caused throughout my life to the tenderest of mothers' hearts, to-day I can send you news of joy.

”I am about to marry.

”I am taking to wife one who has loved me as a poor, nameless, homeless youth, for myself alone, and whom I love for her faithful heart, her soul pure as tried gold, still better than she loves me.

”My darling has neither rank nor wealth: her parents were gypsies.

”I shall not laud her to you in poetic phrases: these I do not understand. I can only feel, but not express my feelings.

”No other letter of recommendation can be required of you, save that I love her.

”Our love has. .h.i.therto only caused both of us pain: now I desire happiness for both of us.

”Your blessing will make the cup of this happiness full.

”You are good. You love me, you rejoice in my joy.

”You know me. You know what lessons life has taught me.

”You know that Fate always ordained wisely and providentially for me.

”No miracle is needed to make you, my mother, the best of mothers, who love me so, and are calm and peaceful in G.o.d, clasp together those hands of blessing which from my earliest days you have never taken off my head.