That evening he left for the country.
The day of the bazaar led also to an important event which astonished everybody: young Margit’s betrothal to Adam Alvinczy. How very unexpected, they all said, for everyone had known for ages that Adam was desperately in love with Adrienne. And now he’s marrying her sister!
In fact no one was more surprised than Adam himself, who hardly knew what had happened nor how it was that he found himself betrothed, and betrothed to Margit of all people. And the strangest thing of all was that it didn’t feel strange at alclass="underline" on the contrary it all seemed the most natural thing in the world.
Since the bazaar, when as usual he went to the Uzdy villa at tea-time with the rest of their little band of friends, he no longer tried to sit near to Adrienne or even find a place where he could gaze longingly at her, but started to seek out Margit who — quite by chance of course — always seemed to be found alone in the corner of the drawing-room farthest away from the others. He would join her at once, justifying this move by saying to himself that there was no point in approaching Adrienne who disdained his great love. The other guests, Kadacsay, Pityu Kendy, the other three Alvinczy brothers and the Laczok girls, soon began to take it for granted that Adam and Margit would only whisper things to each other so, as soon as the two of them sat down some way apart, they would be left strictly alone. As a result they could discuss their favourite subject to their hearts’ content.
And that subject, now, was the amazing difference between Adrienne’s heartlessness and Margit’s understanding.
They milled over this fact and examined it in every detail every time they met. And so it came to pass that one afternoon they were to be found together in their favourite place in the corner. Baron Gazsi, far away in the centre of all the others, was telling some extremely droll tale of an adventure he had had with a horse and a wild boar sow — in which he had, as always, come off the worst — for Gazsi, unlike most people who tell stories about themselves, told only those stories in which he could represent himself as an unwitting clown. This manner was well suited to his woodpecker nose and plaintive eyes, while his way of rolling his ‘r’s so heavily made his sad self-deprecating stories all the more hilarious. Where Gazsi was, near the fireplace, everyone was in a constant roar of laughter.
‘How merry they all are over there!’ said Adam sadly to little Margit. ‘What fun they are all having! But you’re so good to me, sitting always with me and listening when you could be happy and laughing with the others. Dear Margit, aren’t you bored by all my complaints?’
‘Oh, no! I’d rather be here,’ she answered. ‘I’m like a nurse, you know. I like being of use. It’s a great joy to me if I can help to ease pain, especially yours — though I know it’s hopeless. I could listen to you for ever.’
‘I’ve never known anyone as good as you are, Margit! Do you know, I’m almost happy when I’m with you! If only you could stay with me always. You’re such a comfort, a real kindred spirit!’
Adam spoke very softly, which was only natural as they were sitting so close together on the sofa where, as it happened, there was plenty of space so to sit quite so close was not really necessary. Nevertheless they did sit so closely as to be almost touching and this, no doubt, was because in this way they could talk quietly without being disturbed by the loud chatter of the others. Their heartfelt words seemed all the more intimate when they were whispered into each other’s ears, and it was also easier to explain their inner feelings in this way and Margit, for once, could never have uttered her next words if they had had to be said out loud.
‘Of course! That would be the best! You marry me and I’ll always be with you. I’ll be your best friend and I’ll take care of you and we’ll talk about Adrienne all the time, just as we do now.’
‘My darling!’ he whispered, enchanted. ‘You would accept that? Knowing that my heart …?’
‘This one?’ she said quickly, touching his chest with her little hand and leaving it there for a moment. ‘This one’s broken, I know. And you’re not in love with me, I know that too … and never could be.’
‘That’s true, of course,’ said the young man sadly, still believing this to be the truth, ‘though I’m sure that if I had never met Adrienne I could have fallen in love with you!’
So they went on talking of what could never be and appearing to share their sad yet honey-sweet thoughts until they noticed that everyone was preparing to leave. When all the others had said goodbye and had already left the room, Margit put her hand on Adam’s sleeve. ‘Wait a moment!’ she said, and her words were no less than a command. ‘We’ll tell Addy now!’
This was an awkward moment for Adam, for how, after singing so many hymns of love to Adrienne, could he possibly tell her that he intended to marry her sister? However he need not have worried; young Margit handled it all with the greatest tact. She took his big hand in her small one, led him over to Adrienne, and said, ‘See, Addy, poor Adam is so unhappy that we have decided he will marry me! Don’t you see, this will be the best!’
Adrienne did not laugh, nor was she angry or even seem surprised. She looked at them both with total seriousness and understanding and then she put up both her hands and pulled down Adam’s head and kissed him on the forehead as a sign that he had her blessing. He had never achieved anything like that during his long courtship of her.
Adam blushed deeply and tried to think of some beautiful and romantic words with which to thank her; but nothing came because just then little Margit squeezed his hand with more force than he could ever have imagined she possessed.
This strong grip, though Adam never knew it either then or afterwards, was to be symbolic of their future together.
The next day the news was all over town. Old Rattle was summoned by telegram. He was delighted by his new role as Father of the Bride, embracing everyone he met, even total strangers, and shouting, every five minutes, despite floods of tears, ‘Oh, my poor wife Judith! Why couldn’t she have lived to know such joy?’ while the tears flowed down his cheeks even when his sorrow had turned to guffaws of delighted laughter.
Count Akos at once started a round of visits, mainly to the houses of old ladies of his acquaintance where such scenes were repeated several times a day, and to the Casino. He would even stop people in the street to laugh and cry and tell them of his great happiness and, of course, of his great sorrow.
PART FOUR
Chapter One
THE COUNCIL OF WAR was held in front of Balint’s tent. Balint himself sat on his shooting stick, ‘Honey’ Andras Zutor, the head forest guard, sat on the ground in front of him while Geza Winckler, the young and fully qualified forest superintendent who had been engaged by Balint to replace Nyiresy, sat close by on a tree trunk.
Below them the meadow on the Prislop sloped gently down towards Feherviz — the White Water. With small groups of trees the meadow almost looked like a park consciously laid out by garden experts. To the right of the little group of men were the steep slopes of the Munchel Mare, planted with a mixture of beech and pine trees, while to the left and behind them the forest was formed solely by dense plantations of pine trees. In front the view was closed by the peaks of the Humpleu range, which at this time in the late afternoon, with the sun behind it, was in deep shadow. High above was the crater-shaped rocky summit of the Vurtop whose chalky whiteness gleamed softly behind the inky shadows of the tree-capped mountains in front.