“I tried to persuade our friends to take up their abode here for a while,” he observed to the ladies. “But they preferred the simplicity of a tent in the forest.”
“More natural than gallant,” Madame d’Ivady commented, in her grand manner.
“Hardly ungallant,” Galabin objected laughingly, “since we did not know of the presence of ladies at Rozsnyo.”
“And now you are aware of it,” the old lady said with the same pompous rigidity, “will you not change your mind?”
Zarka interposed.
“We must not worry our young friends, Cousin Gertrud. It is only natural that they should like the free life of the forest, and it would be unfair to make them lead, even here, the very existence from which they have for the time emancipated themselves.”
The girl laughed.
“Mother can hardly understand any one preferring life in a tent to being snug in a house.”
Certainly the imagination would fail to picture the majestic, formal Madame d’Ivady roughing it under canvas, and they smiled at the idea.
“Now,” exclaimed Zarka, as having finally disposed of the subject, “shall we stroll round and see the few curiosities my poor house has to show? Come, Royda. I suppose we cannot tempt you, Cousin Gertrud?”