Our Little Hungarian Cousin

by Mary F. Nixon-Roulet

"It seems so long since we have left the village, Banda Bela; somehow it seems as if we would never go back."

"I think you never will." Banda Bela spoke a little sadly. "Were you happy there, Little One?"

"Oh, yes," she said brightly. "I was happy with you and Aszszony Semeyer. Only, when I saw other children with their mothers, there was the ache right here—" she laid her hand on her heart.

"I know," said Banda Bela. "I have that always. Only when I play my violin do I forget."

"But I cannot play the violin, nor can I do anything, only embroider that horrible Himmelbelt," and Marushka pouted, while Banda Bela laughed at her.

"Think how proud you will be some day to show that Himmelbelt to your husband," he said, but just then the Baroness and the Count came out of the house together.

"What do you think?" the Baroness asked the Count.

"I think you are right, but Maria shall decide," he answered. "We will say nothing to her and her heart will speak."

"Come in, children," said the Baroness, who looked strangely excited. Her eyes shone and her cheeks were flushed, while the Count's face was pale as death and he looked strangely at Marushka.