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Updated: May 11, 2025
But he had already seen the blush, and caught that expression of happiness in her blue eyes which suddenly made her look as she did of old five years ago before that wan, pathetic expression of resignation had altered her sweet face so completely. "I don't want to worry you, Elsa," he said simply. "You couldn't worry me, Andor," she said, "you have always been the best friend I had in the world."
Elsa Kapus the far-famed beauty of half the county, counted her suitors by the score. Patiently, quietly, obstinately she kept every suitor at bay even though many were rich and some in high positions even though her mother, with the same patience, the same quietude, and the same obstinacy worked hard to break her daughter's will. But Andor was coming back.
"Only this: that I don't like to see a friend of mine make a fool of himself over a girl who does not care one hairpin for him." Béla smothered a curse. "How do you know that?" he asked. "Everyone knows that Elsa is over head and ears in love with Andor, and just won't look at anyone else." "Oho!" he sneered, "everyone knows that, do they?
"Take care of what?" shouted Béla in unbridled rage. He faced Andor, and his one sinister eye shot a glance of deadly hatred upon him. "Let me tell you this, my friend, Lakatos Andor. I don't know where you have sprung from to-day, or why you have chosen to-day to do it .
I have done everything that lay in my power to find out if there was the slightest foundation for the rumour, but now I like all sensible people am satisfied that Andor is really dead." Elsa was walking beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm, as was fitting for a girl who was tokened and would be a bride within the week: she walked with head bent, her eyes fixed upon the ground.
Andor, his arm tightly clasped round Elsa's waist, his head bowed till his lips touched her bare shoulder, contrived to whisper magic words in her ear. Magic words? simple, commonplace words, spoken by myriads of men before and since into myriads of willing ears, in every tongue this earth hath ever known. But to Elsa it seemed as if the Magyar tongue had never before sounded so exquisite!
"Don't talk so wildly, Andor," she said, as she turned and faced him, for she was a little frightened at his earnestness and knew that he had it in him to act just as he said he would. "The whole thing is only foolishness on my part, I know." "Then there is something?" he persisted obstinately.
Andor asks for the twentieth time, and for the twentieth time her lips murmur an assent, even though her heart is heavy with foreboding. There goes the horn! "Elsa, my love, one more kiss," cries Andor, as he presses her closely, ever more closely to his heart. "God bless you, my rose! You will wait for me?" The engine gives a shrill whistle.
"It isn't that, Andor," she murmured. "It isn't that?" he repeated dully, and once more the frown of awful puzzlement appeared between his dark, inquiring eyes. "Then what is it? No, no, Elsa!" he added quickly, seeing that she threw a quick look of pathetic anxiety upon him, "don't be afraid, my dove. I am not going to make a fool of myself again. You .
Andor's friends had assembled in the street in a trice; here was too glorious an opportunity to shout and to sing and to make merry, to be lightly missed. And Andor had always been popular before. He was doubly so now that he had come back from America or wherever he may have been, and had made a fortune there; he shook one hundred and fifty hands before he could walk as far as the presbytery.
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