An admirable husband, truly! One day, Henrietta had ridden out to the neighbouring Ravacsel in order to visit a poor Wallachian peasant woman, to whom she had sent some medicine a few days before.

The woman, naturally, never drank the medicine, but instead of that got a village quack to rub her stomach with some wonder-working salve so vigorously that the poor patient died in consequence; in fact she was already at the last gasp when Henrietta arrived.

Henrietta was beside herself with grief and anger.

She felt like a doctor whose prescriptions have been interfered with by a competitor.

She could not indeed help the woman, who expired soon after her arrival, but she had at least the satisfaction of making arrangements for a decent funeral.