Baroness Orczy

“ He would come back to them as merry as ever! and give up going to the castle, and listen to my lord’s blandishments! He would have someone to court, someone with whom to dance! Long live Kemény András!
“Jankó, why the devil, don’t you speak? and why the devil don’t you drink? drink, man, and tell us of the lucky girl who will share the Kisfalu money with András, and have the best of husbands into the bargain?”
But Jankó would not speak till all were silent again, and all crowded round him, to hear the strange news. Outside the inn, eager curious faces were peering through the window. ”

“ Very well, then, my children, you will agree with me, that one so good as András—one who follows the dictates of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has taught us to love and succour one another, is surely worthy to wed with the noblest in the land. ”

“ CHAPTER XXIII HOW THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED Thank God! news travels very slowly on the lowlands, at all times, but more especially when the early spring rains have rendered the roads well-nigh impassable. Countess Irma had reckoned upon this, when she decided that the unfortunate marriage should be accomplished, before the news of it could reach the ears of her relatives and friends only as a fait accompli, mixed with a sauce of reasons, both romantic and plausible, which had induced the proud Countess to give her only daughter to a peasant. ”

“ To them, it was poetry, romance, the willing descent of a great lady to their own humble, but merry circle; the desire of a noble young lady to dance the csárdás merrily, with them, in the big barn, to enjoy herself, to trip barefoot across the muddy roads, to forsake grandeur for gaiety. ”

“ The sunny nature had grown strangely sad, and sadness gave a dignity to the peasant lad, to the tall broad figure and dreamy eyes, which all the village folk unconsciously recognised, and bowed to, as something noble and high. Then, one day, Jankó came riding down, all excitement, to the village, the news he had to tell was so great, so wonderful, he hardly knew how to begin.
András! Kemény András, the rich peasant, the young chap who had sung with them, danced with them, been brought up amongst them, was ... no! Jankó could not go on! the words seemed to choke him ... was going to marry. ... ”

“ It was strange but true that, so far, not one of the peasantry seemed to know of the gigantic honour about to be done to one of their kind; it almost looked as if András did not care to speak about it, to brag of it, as people of his class surely would always do; only Pater Ambrosius had evidently been told, for, one Sunday, just before dinner, he had taken Ilonka’s hand in his and, patting it very gently, he had said:
“Let us all thank God, noble lady, for the great happiness He has vouchsafed to grant you ”