"And who may this be?" smilingly inquired the lady, indicating the vice-palatine's assistant, who had thrust his long neck inquisitively forward.
"Oh, he is n't anybody!" replied the vice-palatine. "He is never called by name. When you want him just say: 'Audiat!' He is one of those persons of whom Cziraky said: 'My lad, don't trouble yourself to inquire where you shall seat yourself at table; for wherever you sit will always be the lowest place!'"
This anecdote caused "Audiat" to draw back his head and seek to make himself invisible.
"And now, I must present myself: I am the vice-palatine of this county, and am called Bernat Görömbölyi von Dravakeresztur."
"My dear sir!" ejaculated the baroness, laughing heartily, "I could n't commit all that to memory in three years!"
"That is exactly the way your ladyship's name affects me!"
"Then I will tell you what we will do. Instead of torturing each other with our unpronounceable names, let us at once adopt the familiar 'thou,' and call each other by our Christian names."
"Yes; but when I enter into a 'brotherhood' of that sort, I always kiss the person with whom I form a compact."
"Well, that can also be done in this instance!" promptly responded the baroness, proffering, without affectation of maidenly coyness, the ceremonial kiss, and cordially shaking hands with the vice-palatine. Then she said:
"We are now Bernat bácsi, and Katinka; and as that is happily arranged, I will ask the gentlemen to go into the agent's office and conclude our official business. Meanwhile, I shall make my toilet for dinner, where we will all meet again."