The legend of the holy umbrella is still believed in in those parts. Mr. Sztolarik, who was fond of a gossip, certainly told his version of the story, how old Müncz the Jew had made a present to Christianity of a holy relic, and so on; but the old belief was strongly rooted, and he was only laughed at when he told his tale. And after all, there was something mystic and strange in the whole affair, and the umbrella had brought worldly goods to every one, Gyuri included, for it had given him the dearest little wife in the world. They were married very soon and never had such a wedding taken place in Glogova before. According to Veronica's special wish, every one who had been at the Mravucsáns' supper was invited to the wedding, for she wanted all those who had been present at their first meeting to take part in their happiness. There were a lot of guests from Besztercebánya too, among them the mother of the bridegroom, in a black silk dress, the President of the Courts, the mayor, and lots of others. Then there were the Urszinyis from Kopanyica, two young ladies from Lehota in pink dresses, and Mrs. Müncz from Bábaszék, with lovely golden earrings on.
There were so many different kinds of conveyances in Glogova that day, it would have taken a week to look at them all.
Dear me, what a lovely procession it was too; the peasants stood and gazed open-mouthed at all the people in their beautiful dresses, but most of all at the bride, who walked at the head of the procession in a lovely white dress with a long veil and a wreath of orange-blossoms. Oh, how pretty she was!
But the bridegroom was splendid too, in the same kind of dress in which the king has his portrait painted sometimes. His sword, in a velvet sheath mounted in gold, clattered on the pavement as he walked up the church.
They stood in a semicircle round the altar, each lady with a nosegay of flowers in her hand, and perfumed to such an extent that the church smelled like a perfumer's shop.
It was a little cool in the church, and the young ladies from Lehota were seen to shiver now and then in their thin pink dresses; but everything went off very well.
The bridegroom spoke his "yes" in a loud, firm voice, the walls seemed to re-echo it, but the bride spoke it almost in a whisper, it sounded like the buzzing of a fly.
Poor child! She got so nervous toward the end of the ceremony that she began to cry. Then she looked for her handkerchief, but was there ever a pocket in a wedding dress? She could not find it, so some one from behind offered her one, then turned and said:
"Button up your coat, Wladin!"
THE END.