"Long life to my wife's husband!"
It would really be waste of time to try and describe the supper, for nothing of any real importance happened. They ate, they drank, and then they went home. Perhaps they spoke of important matters? Not they! Only a thousand trifles were discussed, which it would be a pity to put in print; and yet the incidents of that supper were the talk of Bábaszék for weeks after. For instance, Mr. Mravucsán upset a glass of wine with the sleeve of his coat, and while they were wiping it up, and strewing salt on the stain, Senator Konopka, turning to the lady of the house, exclaimed:
"That means a christening, madam!"
Of course Mrs. Mravucsán blushed, but Veronica asked in a most innocent tone:
"How can you know that?" (She was either a goose, that young girl, or she was a good actress.)
Now who was to answer her with a face as innocent as the Blessed Virgin's must have been when she was a girl in short frocks? They all looked at each other, but luckily the forester's wife, Mrs. Wladimir Szliminszky, came to the rescue with this explanation:
"You see, my dear, the stork which brings the children generally lets one know beforehand, and the knocking over a glass is one of the signs it gives."
Veronica thought for a bit, and then shook her head unbelievingly.
"But I saw the gentleman knock the glass over himself," she objected.
To this Mrs. Szliminszky had no answer ready, so, according to her usual custom, she turned to her husband and began worrying him.