Part 29 (1/2)

”Elsa! I want a word with you.”

”I'll come directly, Bela,” she replied, speaking over her shoulder. ”I want to speak to mother for a minute.”

”You can speak to her later,” he rejoined roughly. ”I want a word with you now.”

And without more ado he pushed his way up close to Elsa's side, elbowing Barna Moritz with scant ceremony. An angry word rose to the younger man's lips, and a sudden quarrel was only averted by a pleading look from Elsa's blue eyes. It would have been very unseemly, of course, to quarrel with one's host on such an occasion. Moritz, swallowing his wrath, withdrew without a word, even though he cursed Bela for a brute under his breath.

Bela took Elsa's arm and led her aside out of the crowd.

”You know,” he said roughly, ”how I hate you to mix with that rowdy lot like you do; and you know that I look on the csardas as indecent and vulgar. Why do you do it?”

”The rowdy lot, as you call them, Bela,” she replied firmly, ”are my friends, and the csardas is a dance which all true Magyars dance from childhood.”

”I don't choose to allow my wife to dance it,” he retorted.

”And after to-morrow I will obey you, Bela. To-day I asked my mother if I might dance. And she said yes.”

”Your mother's a fool,” he muttered.

”And remember that to-night I take leave of my girlhood,” she said gently, determined not to quarrel. ”My friends like to monopolize me . . . it's only natural.”

”Well! They are not my friends, anyway, and I'd rather you did not dance another csardas to-night.”

”I am sorry, Bela,” she said quietly, ”but I have promised Feher Karoly and also Jeno. They would be disappointed if I broke my promise.”

”Then they'll have to be disappointed, that's all.”

She made no reply, but looking at her face, which he saw in profile, he could not fail to note that her lips were tightly set and that there was an unwonted look of determination round her mouth. He drew in his breath, for he was quite ready for a second conflict of will to-day, nor, this time, was the issue for a moment in doubt in his mind. Women were made to obey--their parents first and then their husbands. In this case Bela knew well enough that his authority was fully backed by that of Elsa's mother--the invalid father, of course, didn't count, but Kapus Irma wanted that house on the Kender Road, she wanted the servant and the oxen, the chickens and the pigs, she wanted all the ease and the luxury which her rich son-in-law would give her.

No! There was no fear that Elsa would break her tokened word. In this semi-Oriental land, where semi-Oriental thought prevails, girls do not do that sort of thing--if they do, it is to their own hurt, and Elsa was not of the stuff of which rebellious or perjured women are made.

Therefore Bela now had neither fear nor compunction in a.s.serting that authority which would be his to the full to-morrow. He felt that there was a vein of rebellion in Elsa's character, and this he meant to drain and to staunch till it had withered to nothingness. It would never do for him--of all men--to have a rebellious or argumentative wife.

”Well, then, that's settled,” he said, with absolute finality, ”you can go and talk to your precious friends as much as you like, so long as you behave yourself as a tokened bride should, but I will not have you dance that abominable csardas again to-night.”

”And have you behaved to-day, Bela,” she retorted quite gently, ”as a tokened bridegroom should?”

”That's nothing to do with it,” he replied, with a harsh laugh. ”I am a man, and you are a girl, and even the most ignorant Hungarian peasant will tell you that there is a vast difference there. But I am not going to argue about it with you, my dear. I merely forbid you to dance a dance which I consider indecent. That's all.”

”And I am sorry, Bela,” she said, speaking at least as firmly as he did, ”but I have given my promise, and even you would not wish me to break my word.”

”You mean to disobey me, then?” he asked.

”Certainly not after to-morrow. To-day I have my mother's permission, and I am going to dance one csardas now with Feher Karoly and one after supper again with Jeno.”

They had both unconsciously raised their voices during these last few words, and thus aroused the attention of some of the folk, who had stood by to listen. Of course, everyone knew of Bela's aversion to the csardas, and curiosity prompted gaffers and gossips to try and hear what would be the end of this argument between the pretty bride--who certainly looked rather wilful and obstinate now--and her future lord and master.

”Well said, little Elsa!” came now in ringing accents from the foremost group in the little crowd; ”we must see you dance the csardas once or twice more before that ogre has the authority to shut you up in his castle.”

”Moreover, your promise has been made to me,” a.s.serted Feher Karoly l.u.s.tily, ”and I certainly shall not release you from it.”

”Nor I,” added Jeno.