In the meantime a young man, one of the stupid persons of society, came to Ivan and whispered in his ear that Edmund sent him to say he should return to his game; the luck had changed, and the heap of gold Ivan had left was lost.
"Tell him he has done well," returned Ivan; and he took his pocket-book from his breast-pocket and handed it to the messenger. "Tell him to make use of what is in this," he said, "and lose it, if necessary." And he remained where he was.
Angela never turned her head to him again. The cotillon lasted a long time; Count Geza, who led it, wished to show that the Hungarian presented as many opportunities for new figures as the German cotillon, and the demonstration lasted two hours. Ivan remained to the end, although Angela preserved her cold silence. When they had to join in the waltz circle she leaned on his shoulder, her fingers pressed his, her breath touched his face; when she returned to her place she resumed her coldness, and kept her head steadily averted.
When the cotillon was over Edmund brought Ivan the news that this long dance had cost him a thousand gulden. Ivan shrugged his shoulders, as if the loss didn't concern him.
"Wonderful man!" thought Edmund. Presently he said to his cousin:
"It seems that you kept Ritter Magnet all to yourself, my pretty cousin."
Angela raised her white shoulder to him, while she said, angrily:
"This man has bored me for a long time."
From the moment that these words were spoken by the queen of fashion a marked change took place in the opinion of the world as to Ivan's merits. He was no longer considered a capital fellow, but was looked upon as a pushing parvenu. Angela said nothing more, but this one sentence conveyed much. There are men of low origin whose own vanity misinterprets the true meaning of the condescension shown to them by those above them in station, and by so doing make terrible mistakes which must be punished. Such bold parvenus must be taught to curb their wishes. Ivan was counted as one of these. The foolish man had imagined that a high-born lady, a Bondavara, because she was patriotic, would, forsooth, stoop to such as he; he had mistaken her graciousness for the encouragement she might give to one of her own class. He must be ostracized, and that speedily.
The signal had been given by those words of the countess's: "He has for a long time bored me." The first means taken under such circumstances is to make the offender ridiculous. This can be done in different ways. The victim remarks that his weak points are held up, that he is never left in peace, that he is perpetually placed in situations which are arranged to make him a laughing-stock. Not that any one is rude enough to laugh at him openly; on the contrary, they are most polite to him, but it is a politeness that provokes laughter. He soon finds that no one is his friend, no one makes any intimacy with him, although no one actually insults him; but if he is a man of any intelligence he soon feels that he is not one of the society, and that his best part will be to take his hat and go.