"It cannot do half as much mischief!" cried Theresa merrily. "But, are you going?" for my brother had risen.
"It is necessary," he answered, with the quiet, half-pathetic smile peculiar to him. "You do not need us longer; your friends are at hand. We, on the contrary, have to seek ours."
"Which means you are about to join the ranks of our enemies?"
"We are Hungarians, and should be disgraced if we stood idly by while our countrymen fought for liberty."
"I suppose you are right," said the baroness; "but it is a great pity. However, I hope the conflict will be short; and though I must wish for the success of my own side, I trust that God, who watches over each of us, will bring you safely through the fight."
"We shall never forget what you have done for us," said Theresa softly, and her proud eyes strongly suggested tears.
We wished them good-bye; and even when in the street I, for one, looked back to catch a last glimpse of the pretty fräulein as she waved her hand from the window in farewell.
"And now for Hungary!" cried "The Joyous," "though I fear we must travel afoot: horses are not to be had for love or money."
"We can walk," replied my brother. "I have had more than enough of Vienna."
"I believe George is sorry at leaving the pretty Austrian."