Fanny stood still as if her feet were rooted to the ground.
"Come, come, don't you want to meet your friend?" insisted the good old man.
"It is not Flora," stammered Fanny, with frightened, embarrassed eyes.
"Then who else can it be?" asked the Squire.
He must have been somewhat surprised at the conduct of his wife, but there was not a grain of suspicion in his composition, so he simply asked again, "Then who else can it be?"
"It is Flora's husband," said Fanny, withdrawing her hand from her husband's arm.
Squire John began to laugh.
"Why, what a silly the girl is! Why, you must welcome him too, of course. Are you not the mistress of the house?"
Not another word did Fanny speak, but she hardened her face as well as her heart, and hastened towards the coming guest on her husband's arm.
By the time they reached the forecourt of the castle, Rudolf's carriage was rumbling into the courtyard. The young nobleman perceived and hastened towards them. Kárpáthy held out his hand while he was still some way off, and Rudolf pressed it warmly.