"Now be careful!" replied Etelka, preparing to leave the room. "I hear my father's footsteps in the hall. He is sure to talk of Vilma; therefore pray keep your temper and your counsel!"
And, kissing her father's hands (whom she met at the door), Miss Rety withdrew.
Father and son met as antagonists, and their instincts taught them an increase of that polite reserve which usually characterised their intercourse. After the necessary inquiries after his son's health, both were for a while silent, till at length the sheriff, with a violent effort, launched into the debate.
"My son," said he, with a smile, which in him meant only that he was at a loss what expression to give to his features; "I ought to scold you for your late adventures, not only because they induced you to withdraw your influence at the election (thank goodness! we managed to do without you), but also for endangering your life. Consider what a father's feelings must be when his son behaves like you."
"My dear father," replied Akosh, his voice trembling with emotion, "I am happy you have broached the affair. That matter must be settled, and the sooner the better."
The sheriff was by no means pleased with the eagerness with which Akosh snatched at his words.
"I am at your service," he said; "but I would advise you to wait before we come to an éclaircissement. Leave it till another day. You are excited, and perhaps suffering."
"No, father," replied Akosh, "I cannot wait when my honour is concerned. You know I love Vilma."
The sheriff smiled, and Akosh continued, with a blush:—
"You need not fear my giving you a homily on my love and Vilma's virtues. I intend nothing of the kind; but you are aware of the imprudent step which Tengelyi's obstinacy induced me to take. He would not allow me to visit his house and see his daughter."