Part 24 (1/2)
Madame Banfy fell back in her chair, clasped her hands over her heart in terror and struggled for breath. A trembling cry broke from her lips and they did not close again. It was as if some one had cut the strings of her heart with a sword. Half-fainting she stared at her husband as if doubting whether his words could have been in earnest or whether she ought not to take them for a horrible jest.
”You are unhappy,” Banfy went on, ”and I cannot help you. You love to dream and I do not understand you in the least. Possibly my soul does hurt yours, but it is unintentional. It is a fact that your feelings hurt mine and that I will not endure. I recognize no tyrant over me, not even in love. I will not be importuned even with tears. Let us tear our hearts apart. Better for us to do it now while they would still bleed, than to wait until they fall apart naturally. Better for us to separate now while we love each other, than to wait until we come to hatred.”
During this terrible speech the lady struggled, gasping for breath, as if some dread phantom oppressed her heart and robbed her of speech, until at last her pa.s.sion made its way by force and she uttered the piercing cry:
”Banfy, you have killed me!”
Her voice, the expression of her face, seemed to make Banfy tremble; and though he was already on the point of leaving the room in haste, he stopped half-way and looked once more at his wife. He did not notice at this moment that the door had opened and that some one had entered. He saw only that in the face of his wife, so ravaged with despair, there came suddenly an indescribably distressed smile; this forced smile on her agonized features was something terrible. Banfy thought his wife was losing her mind. But Madame Banfy rose, bustling from her seat and cried out,
”Anna, my dear sister,” and rushed to the door.
Then for the first time Banfy turned toward the door and saw Anna Bornemissa, wife of Michael Apafi.
This keen-eyed woman had not failed to take in the situation in which she had surprised these married people, although they knew well how to a.s.sume a calm air in an instant; but she acted as if she had noticed nothing. She drew Margaret to her breast and extended her hand to Banfy in the most friendly fas.h.i.+on. Her sister had not yet fully recovered.
”I heard your voices outside,” said Madame Apafi, ”and that is why I came here without being announced.”
”Oh yes, we were laughing,” said Madame Banfy, and made haste to dry her tears with her handkerchief.
”To what circ.u.mstances are we indebted for this extraordinary good fortune?” asked Banfy, hiding his confusion behind rare courtesy.
”As you did not bring my sister to me,” began Madame Apafi with smiling reproach, ”I came on a visit to my poor relative exiled to Hungary.”
Banfy felt the sting under these last words and said as he stroked his beard:
”Here my lovely sister-in-law can do with me what she pleases. She can use me as the target of her wit and overthrow me with her jests.
Before the Prince's throne, in the national hall, we face each other as foes. Here on the contrary you are my ruler. Here I am nothing except your most loyal subject, who does homage to your grace and is beside himself with joy that he may have you as a guest.”
While he was saying this Banfy threw his arms around the dignified Madame Apafi with familiarity. Not without significance he added turning to his wife, ”It is to be hoped that you will not be jealous of Anna.”
Madame Apafi took it upon herself to answer in Margaret's place.
”I am more inclined to think that you cannot trust yourself to me.”
”If you were my wife that might be so. And that came very near being the state of affairs; there was a time when I wanted to marry you.”
”But it did not advance beyond the beginning,” replied the Princess with a laugh.
”We recognized each other soon,” continued Banfy. ”Two such heads as ours would have been too much for one house; there is not even room for them both in one country. We both like to rule and we should have been well sold if we had been obliged to obey each other. It is better as it is; we have both found our corresponding halves; you, Apafi; and I, Margaret; and we are both happy.”
With these words Banfy kissed his wife's hand tenderly, which she acknowledged with equal tenderness, and then he left the two sisters alone. Anna with sweet seriousness laid her hand on her sister's, who looked up to her with a smile, like an innocent child to her good genius.
”You have been crying,” began Madame Apafi. ”It is of no use for you to a.s.sume the appearance of good spirits.”
”I have not been crying,” replied Margaret, a.s.serting her a.s.sumed calm with astonis.h.i.+ng strength of mind.
”Very well, I am glad that you hide it. It shows that you love him; and if ever you needed to love your husband, to watch over and protect him, it is now.”