They had to pass through the long tap-room before they came to the inner parlour. At the guest table were sitting three hardy looking young fellows and an old pock-marked man, a foxey-eyed rascal who drank out of the others' glasses from time to time and kept the conversation going.
"Come! shut up, Ripa!" said the landlady to the old man. "This is no Jew-Madame, but the spouse of my lord, Baron Hátszegi. Show your manners if you have any and thank her for the honour."
The old rascal rose from his bench with cunning humility and twisting up both ends of his gray moustache, politely kissed Henrietta's hand, and would have paid the same compliment to Clementina if the landlady had not prevented him by shouting: "Leave her alone, she is only a sort of servant!"
With that she led the ladies into the inner room, where were two lofty bedsteads reaching to the beams above, covered with bright bedding and prettily painted over with tulips and roses. In the window screens were wide-spreading rosemary and musk plants. In front of one of the great chests stood a spinning wheel. From this the landlady, winter and summer, spun off that fine thread from which were woven those bright and gay handkerchiefs which could be seen bobbing about in the doorway of the inn from afar. One would never have expected to find such ease and comfort in a csárdá of the puszta.
The landlady very politely divested Henrietta of her travelling clothes, made a soft resting place for her with cushions in an arm-chair, put a stool beneath her feet, and in less time than it took to draw a breath, totted up ten different kinds of dishes that she might choose from them the one she liked best. Perhaps she would like some leaf-cake? It was just cooking and would be served up immediately, and she began spreading the table with a nice horse-cloth. Clementina whispered Henrietta to beware of poison, whereupon Henrietta told the landlady that she would have a bit of that nice dish, and when it came she really enjoyed it, though she did not know what it was, at which the landlady was infinitely pleased.
Meanwhile Hátszegi came in after seeing that the carriages were put into a dry place. He took no notice of the poor vagabonds, but hastily demanded a change of clothes, as his own were soaking, and was amazed to see Henrietta handling her knife and fork so well; it was the first time on the whole journey that she had eaten with appetite. Henrietta said that this peasant roast suited her taste.
"And now, Dame Kardos, will you put the ladies up for the night?" said Hátszegi to the woman of the csárdá.
"Certainly," returned the worthy woman, "I have feather mattresses enough and bedsteads enough for as many guests of quality as your lordship likes. This bed will be my lord baron's and this my lady's, and this the lady attendant's!"
"Not so quick, not so quick! I shall not lie here."
"Not lie here?" cried this child of the puszta. "Why, pray?"