Akos was a sympathetic listener, and Kuthen, who had taken a great liking to him, enjoyed telling him his adventures and experiences. But it was quite evident to all that Akos was drawn to the house by someone more attractive than Kuthen, and also that Marána, or, as she must now be called Mária, was well aware of the impression she had made, and was by no means displeased.
The whole family were out riding one day, a few months after their arrival. This was the recreation which they loved best, and Akos, as usual, was in attendance upon Mária. The two were somewhat in advance of the rest of the party, sufficiently so to be out of hearing, when Akos presently asked his companion whether she were beginning to be accustomed to her new home, and whether she thought she could ever learn to forget the steppes and magic woods of her native land.
"Could anyone in the world forget his own home, do you think?" she answered simply, and then added, "Oh, it is all so different! You live in stone houses, which you can't move about. One might almost as well be in prison. And the walls are so thick that one can't hear anything of what is going on outside, or even in the next room; but when we lived in our open tents, far away from here, I knew in a moment who was in trouble, and who was laughing for joy. And then our family is one; what pains one, grieves the rest, and all share one another's joys and sorrows, fears and wishes."
"And isn't it so here?" said Akos; "and if we have towns and castles, don't we live much in the open air too? Have we no family-life, and are we not all united in our love for our country?"
"I don't know; maybe it is so, but I am a stranger here, and one thing strikes me—there is no unity among you! Your proud, overbearing nobles despise the people, and the people look on them with fear and envy. You are of one race, one family—at least you Magyars are, and yet there are hardly any true friends among you, or any who are ready to make great sacrifices for their country."
"You don't know us," returned Akos quickly, though he knew how much truth there was in what the girl said. "You judge from what you see around you; here in the capital there is so much gaiety, and everyone wants to be first; but it is not so in our mountains and valleys, and on the great plains. There we know what it is to love and sympathise with one another, and to be of one mind; and we are not bad neighbours. There are several different races dwelling in our beautiful land, and they all live at peace one with the other."
"Well, I don't know, but—I am afraid! I don't understand books, but I do understand faces, and there is no need for people to open their lips—I might not understand them if they did—but they speak plainly enough to me without uttering a word. You don't love us! Oh! that we had stayed among the mountains, in the cool caves, or in our tents, not knowing what the morning might bring us, but with our own people all about us, ready at a word for anything! There was a sort of pleasure even in living in a state of fear, always on our guard, listening to the very rustling of the leaves. Ah! how can I make you understand?"
Mária's thoughts went back to the old times, and she saw herself once again living the old tent life in the forest shades. Perhaps her companion's thought for a moment followed hers, and he tried to picture himself as also living in those far-off regions, sharing a tent with the sweet-looking girl at his side.
Something he said to her in a low tone, to which she answered with a smile,
"Oh, you, Akos, that is different! If they were all like you, one might perhaps forget all but the things which are never to be forgotten, and the graves of our ancestors. But you, don't you know that it annoys your friends and relations to see you liking to spend so much time with us?"