"And to-day is not the anniversary?"
"No."
"Then we have drunk enough for one year; let us be moving."
Some of the men returned to the drawing-room; these were, for the most part, the young fellows, and those who wished to dance. The ladies, after their tea, had begun to play quadrilles, and even the "Csárdás" for those who wished for it.
Count Stefan, however, drew away the better portion of the men to his quarters, which were on the second story of the countess's house. Here he entertained in his way. His rooms being on the other side of the house, no noise penetrated to the story below, which was necessary, as the count's champagne was of the very best, and given with no sort of stint; it flowed, in fact. Ivan, who was of the party, showed himself in a new light; he drank wine; his toasts were spicy, his anecdotes fresh and amusing, his wit sharp and unrestrained; and although he drank freely, he didn't turn a hair, he was quite steady.
"Brother," hiccoughed Count Geza, who towards two o'clock was half drunk, "the captain and I have agreed that when you are quite done up we shall carry you home and put you to bed; but, my dear friend, my dear Ritter Magnet, the misery is that I don't think I can get up the stairs; I am quite done. Therefore, take your wings and fly, and let the captain take his, and both of you fly home. As for me—" Here the count laid down on the sofa and fell asleep.
Every one laughed; but the name he had given Ivan—Ritter Magnet—stuck to him.
"Do you care to play cards, my learned one?" said the Marquis Salista.
"Once every three years."
"That is not often enough."