Baroness Orczy

“ She and Feri had reached the great gates; she looked out upon the alley of poplars, and beyond it, far away, upon the plains beyond which lay the tiny farmhouse, where, with her own hands she had crucified love, and struck him so bitter a blow with her cruel tongue, that he had died, since he could no longer bear the pain.
Wearily she passed her hand over her eyes. The sighing of the poplar trees, in the hot noonday air the distant melancholy cry of the storks, brought back memories of that night in May, and made her heart ache with sorrow and with longing. ”

“ A bitter feeling of revenge and hatred made her heart ache, and she made sacrifice to her pride by forcing herself to flirt, dance and make merry, in spite of that numbing pain. She half hoped, as she allowed the young man to lead her apart from everyone else, down the shady acacia drive, that he would come and see her there, in the arms of another man, whom she had loved—as she told him—for two years. ”

“ Do you remember ... you swore a cruel oath that love was dead. ... Oh! how I have suffered since then! ... you do not know. ... Your heart would have ached to see my pain. ... You must not speak ... for you might break that oath. ... But ... stoop down ... you are so tall ... and I want to whisper. ... My husband! ...”
“Ilonka!”
Ay! she had said it truly! it was a dream! so entrancing,so beautiful, that even the Fairy Morgana’s fitful visions seemed pale and dull beside it. He could not speak, for happiness was too great. His arms closed round her. ”

“ But, nevertheless, in spite of that, I shall keep the oath, I made at the altar.”
“I will kill him, Ilonka; and then you will be free!”
“Yes!” she said dreamily, “then, perhaps, I will be free.”
“Till then, give me a word of hope, Ilonka.”
“A word of hope? Listen, Feri. In my heart there is an infinite love, and an infinite hatred: when I know which of these two is the stronger, I will speak of love to you.”
“Love for me?” he pleaded.
“I cannot say, I do not know!”
“Hatred for the peasant, the low-born serf, whom Fate has made your lord?”
“Perhaps ... I cannot say... But now go. ... ”

“ We never really troubled ourselves as to how much he actually has.”
“Of course, Madách has not a silver florin of his own, but that would not matter, if Ilonka is so rich. Think about it, my dear. We will all be very kind to the peasant. Take my advice, and invite him to the castle, or make some arrangements that he should see Feri devouring the lovely grass widow with his eyes. Those peasants are terribly jealous.” ”

“ Oh, yes! she remembered! ... remembered the delightful thrill she had felt, when the softly whispered ardent words had first reached her ears ... when, first she realised that there was one being in the world who seemed more perfect than all. ”

“ How could you ever give your consent to the horrible match?”
“Ilonka was fretting herself to death,” said the mother, with tears in her eyes, “she fancied herself in love with the brute, and would neither eat nor sleep, till she had her way about marrying him. We thought, after all, that it was better to see her nominally the wife of a peasant, than lying in her coffin.”
“I call it unpardonable weakness,” asserted an old lady, who was a relation, and, therefore, had a right to express strong views, “young girls do not die so easily. ”

“ Young Madách is the best revolver shot in the army. Invite your son-in-law here, to see Feri making love to Ilonka. ... Let him provoke his rival to a duel. ... Madách can kill the peasant first ... and step into his shoes afterwards.”
“A nobleman cannot fight a peasant," said the Countess dreamily. ”