A Bride of the Plains

bunda away

se in the next room and Elsa was all alone in the small living-room. She had washed up the crockery and swept up the hearth for the night; cloth in hand, she was giving the miserable bits of furnitur

to the rule, and Elsa had often shed bitter tears of shame when one or other of her many admirers followed her into her home and saw the squalor which reigned in it-the dirt and untidiness. She was most ashamed when Béla was here, for he made sneering remarks about it all, and seemed to take it for

he third time in church, to-morrow evening she would say good-bye to her maidenhood and take her place for the last time among her girl-friends: after t

an ugly nightmare. Once she was Er?s Béla's wedded wife, it would be no longer right to think of that last morning five years ago, of that final csárdás, and the words which Andor h

ps. It would have been so beautiful, if only it could have come true! if only something h

ne herself to be quite moderately happy, if only she had plenty to do; and she did hope that Béla w

king out toward the west, she could see the sunset far away beyond where the plain ended, where began another world. The plumed heads of the maize were tipped with gold, and in

d white, like the freshly-plucked feathers of a goose, then some of them became of a soft amber colour, like ripe maize, then those far away appeared rose-tinted, then crimson, then glowing like fire . . . and that gl

few minutes-a quarter of an hour, perhaps-till gradually the blood-red tints disappeared behind the tall maize; they faded first, then the crimson and the rose and the gold, till

ll of gloom now by contrast with the splendour which she had just witnessed. From the village str

the other woman. "Klara Goldstein does not expect our village girls to take much no

had not set his heart on having her at the feast.

tiously; "everyone thinks that for a tokened man it is a scandal to be always hanging round tha

d Mariska, please.

e was alone a hot blush of shame mounted to her cheeks. It was horrid of people to talk in that wa

es later. She looked sus

?" she asked sharply, "were yo

r Bonifácius is coming afte

f gossip with Mariska just now

hear something of

ut B

t him

otice of what folks say-it is only t

er. I am sure that it

d Irma abruptly changing t

es

disapproval, "with matters that do not concern you. I suppose Béla has been persuading you that

ghts. I had nothing to do after I had cleared

g sheepskin cloak worn by the peasantry) "and seen if the moth has got into it

morr

s. We'll put his bunda round him, and they will strap some poles to his chair, so that they can carry him more easily. They offered to do it. It was to be

filled with tears. How good people were! how thoughtful! Was it not kind of M

ng farewell to all her maidenhood's friends! And what a joy it wou

rously ungrateful to be unhappy wh

t at once. And if the moths are in it, why I must just patch th

en she frowned, and final

said petulantly; "i

n't seen it since f

on his bunda to go down the street as far as the Jew's house. It was after sunset, I remember. He came home an

ondering fo

he murmured to herself.

new of old that that article of furniture was the r

om," said Irma placidl

ws the grey twilight peeped in shyly. The more distant corner of the little living-ro

n the midst of maize-husks and dirty linen of cabbage-stalks and sunf

bunda, moth

ere will be plenty of time before you need begin to dress," said Irma, who held the theory

sheepskin mantle and drew it out of the surrounding rubbish; "the light will hold ou

have you waste the candle over this stupid business. Candle is very

er. But Pater Bonifácius is com

hour when all sensible folk are

s always on Sundays . . . benediction, then christenings, then

d of such a ridiculous hour? And candles are so dear

door now and put a stitch or two in father's bunda while the light lasts: and when I can't see any longer I'll just sit quietly i

king in bed. I shall have to be up by six o'clock in the m

Elsa-moved by a sudden impulse-ran after h

said wistfully. "You won't do i

en ashamed of, my child,"

ss, at any rate with a curious feeling of pi

eep well for the last time in your old bed. I doubt if to-morrow you'll get

" said Elsa, with a