"Is that really everything?" she asked me in the same pleasant way as before.
"Yes, everything."
After that she called her husband in.
"Ready then?"
"Quite," I replied, and stooping down to lift up my trunk, I said "Good-day" to Mrs. Sandor, and followed her husband out into the street.
We did not go far on this occasion. He stopped at the corner of the road and told me to follow him into the tram-car, a command which I found great difficulty in obeying. However, I got in at last, and Mr. Sandor sat down beside me.
"I dare say," he commenced after a little while, "my letters were quite clear to you, and that you are in no doubt as to your future duties. With regard to your mistress, I do not think that there can be found a more kind and gentle creature, and I am sure that you will feel very comfortable in her house. As far as the three boys are concerned, you will have to find out for yourself the best way to get on with them, and I hope that you will remain there for a long time."
He kept on talking in this strain, and in my heart of hearts I wondered whether I really looked so silly and common a girl as my brother had thought me. The house to which Mr. Sandor took me was a very fine-looking building. There was a broad marble staircase, covered with a costly carpet, which was kept in its place by rods of shining brass. A smart-looking parlour-maid led the way into a roomy hall, bidding us to wait. I put my trunk on the floor, and with my heart beating fast sat down on the edge of a chair. Mr. Sandor seated himself too, but his heart did not seem to beat any faster. We had to wait for rather a long time, and I was almost wishing that we might be left there to wait for ever. But in the very midst of that thought fell the mellowed sound of footsteps, and a lady entered. I felt so embarrassed that I could not speak, and stood up terribly ashamed. But she never looked at me. She spoke to Mr. Sandor in Hungarian, and I grew doubtful whether she knew that there was anyone else in the room. All at once she turned her head and looked at me with searching eyes.
"Are you quite sure that you will like to stay in Buda-Pesth?" she asked me. I did not quite know what she meant and only bowed my head in silence. "I am afraid that you might grow home-sick, and I should so hate to change again."
"No," I said; "I am sure I shall like it very much."