'What did I say once, the day of my betrothal? That I leaned on a reed. The reed has withered, that is all. You see, I can stand without it.'
She conducted her aunt to her bedchamber with the usual courteous observances; then returned and sat long alone in the silent chamber.
'Forgive! what is the obligation of forgiveness?' she thought. 'It is the obligation to pardon offences, infidelity, unkindness, cruelty, but not dishonour. To forgive dishonour is to be dishonoured. So would my fathers have said.'
[CHAPTER XL.]
Bela that dawn was awakened by his mother standing beside his bed. She stooped and touched his curls with her lips.
'I was harsh to you yesterday, my child,' she said to him. 'I come to tell you now that you were quite right to have the thought you had. You are his son; you must not forget him.'
Bela lifted up his beautiful flushed face and his eye brilliant from sleep.
'I am glad I may remember,' he said simply; then he added, with his cheeks burning: 'When I am a man I will go and find him and bring him back.'
His mother turned away her face.