This, at any rate, had now disappeared.
Clementina went on to say that my lord baron had not cared a straw for this loss; nay, he had laughed and said that it only showed how lucky he was in love.

Henrietta applied the saying to herself and began to be quite proud of it.
The count, however, pursued Clementina, had said that he durst not rejoice in his winnings or that accursed Fatia Negra might rob him of them again on the highroad as he had done once before.
A cold shudder ran through Henrietta's limbs at that accursed name.

That Fatia Negra! She had already begun to forget him.

And thus old memories began to revive, and at last her excited imagination began to fancy that there was some sort of connecting link between Szilard and Fatia Negra, between the dearest and the most terrible of beings! What if her rejected lover had avenged himself by publicly shaming her! It was with such anxieties as these that the young wife went to sleep in her lonely chamber.
Early next day she received a visit from the priest.
All the time the army of guests was going in and out of the castle gates, he never came near the place, but now he hastened to exchange a few words with the lady of the house.

And Henrietta was very glad that he had come.
"I bring you news of Fatia Negra and of other things also," said the priest, as soon as he was alone with the lady.
Henrietta was instantly all attention.
"Yesterday the famous butterwoman who dwells at Dupe Piatra came to open her soul to me in a very difficult matter.