They Were Counted (59 page)

Klara was excited, but feeling she needed a few moments to get herself fully under control before she was subjected to the princess’ questioning, she turned to the maid and said: ‘Ilus, why are you always so sad these days?’ She did not know why she had said this. It had not occurred to her before but as she spoke she realized that it was true and that for some time the girl had not been her normal carefree self. How odd that she should only have noticed it when she was in trouble herself.

The little maid glanced briefly up at her mistress and then
lowered
her eyes and said shyly: ‘I’m not, my lady, truly I’m not!’ but her eyes contradicted her denial. ‘People are wicked!’ she added unexpectedly.

Klara was startled and, feeling a sudden rush of kinship for the girl, said: ‘Are you in love, Ilus?’

‘Oh, no! How could I be? Oh, no! Not
that
, my lady!’ The girl blushed and her eyes looked even sadder.

Klara put her hand up to the girl’s face and gently stroked it, feeling how good it was to have a friend who shared her longing and her distress. It made her feel stronger merely to know that someone else was suffering. Straightening up Klara pulled herself together and walked boldly towards the door of her stepmother’s apartments.

The Princess Agnes’s bedroom in Budapest was much the same as her room in the country, the only difference being that whereas at Simonvasar everything was gold in colour, here it was all pink. Here too a sofa stood at the foot of the bed and from it the Princess would administer justice. She was seated on it now, looking stern.

‘Sit down, my dear,’ she said, pointing to a chair opposite her, ‘I want to ask you something.’ Klara sat down and waited. After a few moments’ silence the Princess said directly: ‘What
happened
yesterday between you and Montorio?’

‘Nothing,’ replied Klara. ‘Nothing really …!’

Princess Agnes raised one eyebrow in obvious disbelief.
Narrowing
her eyes she waited silently for Klara to say something more, knowing that if she said nothing the girl was sure to go on.

‘… only that after supper he asked me to go with him into the garden and I didn’t want to.’

‘And?’

The girl twisted her fingers together nervously. ‘That’s all ... only that also … well, it might not have been proper …’

Princess Agnes shrugged her shoulders and for a moment there was a hint of an ironic smile on her lips. ‘Was that the only
reason
? Really?’ The coldness in her voice showed her contempt for an obvious lie.

‘Yes, and because I didn’t want …’

‘What didn’t you want?’

‘Nothing! I just didn’t feel like it!’

There was silence again, the princess remaining, if possible,
almost
more rigidly immobile than before.

‘It’s not like you, Klara, to be so stubborn, yes, stubborn and unco-operative – not with me! After all, I am your mother, if not in nature in every other way.’

Klara blushed. This allusion to their relationship bothered her because it was true that Mama Agnes had always been to her everything that a mother should be. Even her real mother, whom she had never known, could not have been kinder.

‘I’ll tell you what happened,’ she said. ‘After supper he
suggested
… well, I felt that if I went out with him he would
propose
. I felt it would encourage him, and so I didn’t …’

‘Did he give you any hint?’

Klara hesitated for a moment. She did not know whether she should tell the truth or not but hating to lie she said: ‘Yes. He said he wanted to ask me something important and I replied that there would be no point. I said that it would be useless!’ Now it was out, and there would be no going back. With a determined look on her face she looked straight into her stepmother’s eyes.

‘You said that? You dared to say that? You little fool, do you realize that you’ve thrown away all your chances? Why, in God’s name?’ The princess’s well-tended hands clenched into fists. She was so angry she nearly jumped up from the sofa. In a moment, however, she recovered her self control, and then laughed mirthlessly.

‘Why? I hardly need to ask when the whole town knows that you’re in love with that little Laci! Such folly! And all just
because
of little Laci, of all people!’ She laughed scornfully.

Hearing this mocking laughter, and listening to Princess Agnes’ patronizing words, Klara made up her mind. She stood up, faced her stepmother and said, calmly and firmly: ‘It’s true! I have decided to marry him. It’s settled.’ With deeper emphasis, the catch in her throat showing how much her whole being longed for love and sympathy and help, she went on: ‘You see, we love each other!’

‘I knew you had a crush on him. I guessed that a long time ago! But what about him? All the world knows that he’s Fanny Beredy’s lover! What a little hypocrite he is, carrying on like that while pretending to come courting you! Why, he hasn’t even enough
conduite
to do it discreetly!’

‘Countess Beredy?’

‘Who else? He dines there every Wednesday and goes calling in the afternoons. Everyone knows all about it, except you, my poor little Klara!’

The girl stood very straight in front of her stepmother.

‘No! No! No! It’s not true. I know him and I know all about it. He’s been there a few times but it’s not like that! He’s not
involved
with Fanny Beredy at all. He doesn’t love anyone but me and he’s loved me for years and years. He’s always loved me, I know! And he’s true to me. What you say is all a lie!’

‘My dear girl, I don’t listen to gossip. I know all about it from a most reliable source. Old Szelepcsenyi told me. He knows what goes on in that house if anyone does. He’s an intimate friend of Fanny’s. You can rely on anything he says.’

‘It’s not true! Everyone’s against Laszlo!’

‘Szelepcsenyi didn’t tell me out of spite. He thought Laszlo had all the luck!’

‘It’s all nasty wicked slander, yes, slander. They’ve just
invented
it.’

‘Invented it? That’s quite enough!’ said Princess Agnes,
interrupting
her and getting up at the same time. ‘Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone! We’ll go and see your father
immediately
and you can tell him what you have done and why. And I hope you’ll behave to him in a calmer manner than you have to me!’ With this she swept out of the room like a battleship in full sail. Klara followed.

Louis Kollonich was in his smoking-room. He was walking up and down with a dead cigar in his mouth and repeatedly looking at his watch. It was past the hour when luncheon was usually served and he was both hungry and impatient.

As soon as Princess Agnes and Klara entered the room, he said: ‘
Na!
Wird
denn
niemals
serviert
– What! Shall we never be served?’ When he was out of temper he always spoke in German.

His wife did not answer at once but sat down.

‘
Lieber
Louis,’ she said formally. ‘Klara has something to say to you. Yesterday she turned down Montorio whom you had
selected
for her!’

‘
Was
ist
das
für
ein
Blodsinn
– what is all this nonsense?’ he shouted at his daughter.

Klara kept her head. She was defiant, but she spoke calmly and bravely. She said that she did not love Montorio and would not marry him. Her own life and happiness was at stake, she said, and she would only marry for love. If not, she would not marry at all. She knew she would never be happy again if she married Montorio … and that is why she had refused him.

‘
Na,
Meinetwegen
– does no one think of me? And are they never going to serve lunch?’ was all that her father answered. Princess Agnes did not move.

‘That is not all,’ she said, and turning to Klara, she went on gently: ‘My dear, you had better tell your father what you told me. You owe it to him …’

‘
Aber
was
ist
denn
noch
– now what is it?’ asked Kollonich, by now thoroughly incensed and impatient to get all this talk done with so that he could get to table. He started to walk up and down the room again.

It was difficult to talk properly to someone who would not keep still, but Klara managed to speak firmly and stick to her guns – though she was afraid that she would not be able to remain
adamant
for long. She told her father that she was in love and that she was loved in return and that her only hope of happiness lay in marriage with the man she loved. In two weeks’ time, she
reminded
them, she would come of age and be free to decide her own fate, but all the same she begged them for their consent. After all, it was her future that was at stake, her life and no one else’s! Much of this was delaying tactics as, for some reason she could not quite explain to herself, she hesitated before telling him that it was Laszlo she loved.

‘
N
a,
und
wer
ist
der
glückliche
Jungling
– and who is the happy man?’

The good Louis stopped suddenly in his tracks and stared hard at his daughter’s face. Klara looked him straight in the eyes.

‘Laszlo Gyeroffy!’

‘
Wa-a-as?
Der
Laci!
Dieser
Kartenspieler
– that gambler.
Nichl
um
der
Welt!
– Never!’ shouted Kollonich even more angrily than before spinning round the room in his fury and pouring out a stream of abuse. ‘
So
ein
Lump
– what a scoundrel!’ he cried, telling Klara that he would have no gambler marrying into his family, to spend her fortune and then come to him to have his debts paid! How could she think of such a nobody? He shouted at her until Klara felt she could bear no more and sank into a chair crying into the cushions on the armrest. ‘
Hat
er
die
Impertinenz
?’
he yelled in her ear, ‘Has he dared to propose?’

Klara shook her head. ‘No, he hasn’t! But he’s only waiting for a sign from me. He wouldn’t dream of it until …’

‘Well, that’s one good thing, at least,’ said her father, still
walking
up and down and snorting with rage like a steam engine. Klara burst into loud sobs and, because Kollonich never could stand the sight of a woman in tears, he stopped walking about and came over to her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder.

‘Na!
Na!
Na!
Don’t cry! I wouldn’t mind if he weren’t such a gambler but, God in heaven, a gambler!’ and rage came over him again. ‘
Werden
wir
niemals
essen
?’ he shouted at his wife. ‘Will luncheon never be served?’

The princess pressed a bell on the table beside her. Szabo the butler came in almost at once.

‘Serve luncheon immediately!’ she said.

‘The first course is already on the sideboard, your Grace.’ Szabo bowed and disappeared.

‘Thank God!’ said the prince, and started at once for the door not even pausing for his wife to precede him. As they walked swiftly through the great reception rooms, Klara surreptitiously wiped her eyes so as not to show anyone else that she had been crying.

There were no guests that day and so the only others at table were her brothers, Niki and Peter. They could not fail to notice that some drama had been going on and Niki, always
mischievous
, did his best to find out what it was. Peter, who had a kind heart and loved his sister, tactfully started to talk to their father about shooting and quickly captured his attention. Without delay Prince Louis started telling them, for the third time, how a few days before he had finally killed the great roebuck they had so
often
stalked in vain. And in a few minutes he had regained his
normal
good humour, aided, no doubt, by the excellence of the jellied
Fogas
pâté, flavoured with smoked ham and flavoured with truffles, and his favourite
Tournedos
Rossini
which followed it.

After lunch Klara went to her room. She washed her eyes and started to think, and the more she thought the calmer she
became
. The matter was by no means hopeless. Her father had had his tantrum and had made it clear that it was Laszlo’s gambling to which he had so strong an objection. If she could prove that Laszlo had given it up – and given it up for her sake – then surely they could no longer object to him. Of course it was always said that gambling was such an overriding passion that nothing could ever be done about it, but if he gave it up that would show them all that he was worthy of her. As for that wicked tale about him and Fanny Beredy, this would be proof that that was false too
because
he was true to her and to her alone. The solution to all their problems lay in Laszlo giving up cards … and showing the world that he did it for her!

Klara sat down at her little writing table and quickly wrote a note in her square slanting handwriting:
‘
I’ve
told
them!
It
was
quite
dreadful!
Try
to
get
near
me
as
if
by
chance
at
the
races
tomorrow,
but
keep
away ’
til
then.
I’ll find
a
way
to
tell
you
there!’