Mrs. Giulianic, unable to control her vexation, and angry at finding herself the laughing-stock of the whole company, forgot herself so far as to call Uros a fool and a drunkard. He, however, went on, good-humouredly:
"I'm so sorry; but, you see, it was quite unintentional, Bogami, quite unintentional. But never mind, don't be angry with me; I'll buy you another dress."
"Do you think my wife is vexed on account of her dress?" said Giulianic, proudly. "Thank Heaven! she doesn't need your dresses yet."
"Oh, yes!" said Uros, mopping up the wine with his napkin, "I know that you can afford to buy your wife dresses; but as I spoilt this one, it is but right that I should pay for it. I can't offer to buy you a yard of stuff, can I? And, besides, a dress is always welcome, isn't it, mother-in-law?"
"Well, never mind about the dress," quoth Giulianic.
"Oh! if you don't mind it, your wife does; but there, don't be angry, don't be wriggling with your nose. When I marry your daughter, my pretty Ivanka——"
"You marry my daughter!" gasped the father.
"You, indeed!" quoth the mother.
"Yes, babica; then I'll buy you the dearest dress I can get for money in Trieste. What is it to be, velvet or satin? plain or with bunches of flowers? What colour would you like? as red as your face is now?"
"When you marry Ivanka, you can buy me a bright green satin."