Therese never ventured near him again. She saw him only on one other occasion, while driving through the village with the County Justice. They saw old Filcsik on his way to the tavern of "The Linen Shirt." "Oh, father, father, dear!" the girl cried passionately.
Old Filcsik looked up, ceremoniously tipped his hat, and silently turned and entered the tavern. Surely, there must have been a stone in the place of the heart of this old man!
Those of the people of Majornok who had an occasion to go to the home of the Judge could not but envy the lot in life that had fallen to Therese Filcsik. "Why," they would all exclaim, "she is a gracious lady. She has learned all the manners of the nobility. And how the neighborhood has improved since she became the Judge's wife!"
The administration of Justice of Majornok is far better than that in all the surrounding villages.
Old Filcsik was informed by his neighbors of the messages she had indirectly sent to him: her father should call on her; she would send a wagon for him; she would place downy, silk cushions on the seat of the wagon; that whenever he desired, day and night, he could have honeyed whiskey, and that he would be honored—the Judge himself would first bow to him, but only that he should come to her and forgive her because she was afraid herself to go to him.
But all this seemed to produce no impression on old Filcsik. Yet had he been but just to her, he could have helped not only his own lot, but he could have secured forever the prosperity of the noble village itself.
Because (and this is written to you in strict confidence) Majornok is the most impoverished village of the entire country thereabout. Her people are poor and the village itself is neglected. It has not a single paved street—not a bridge, nor a Town Hall to give it dignity.
This is, it is true, in no wise remarkable. None of the county officers had chanced upon a sweetheart in Majornok, and they therefore built the country roads and paved the village streets only in that portion of the county where they frequently went.
There is, for instance, the county road of Csoltó. It is as smooth as a polished floor and the people of Bágy have pretty Eliza Bitro to thank for it, while the paved roads of Karancsalja call for blessings upon the beautiful head of Mistress John Vér.
Well, such is the way of the world. The face of a beautiful woman glorifies the appearance of an entire neighborhood. But it did not beautify Majornok. There it was commonly said that the deputy county engineer, who prepared the maps for the road commissioners from those at the county seat, had intentionally left the place out, and even that the honorable representatives and the electors of the county had offered one hundred and eighty paper gulden to the neighboring county of Hont, if it would claim Majornok as its own, but Hont county would not have the place even for money. Why should they have her, that all the fun poked at, and all disgrace coming from Majornok should revert upon the honorable county?