The dance was over, and Flora, hastening to her friend, passed her arm round her waist, and they took a turn together round the room.
Mr.Kecskerey began to rock himself gently to and fro on the sofa and draw conclusions.
"Why did she sigh so deeply when she said, 'I don't fancy we shall go to Pest' ?" Just then Rudolf drew near, and Mr.Kecskerey seizing his opportunity, put his arm through Rudolf's, and paced with him up and down the splendid saloon, as if they had been the very best friends in the world.
And here we should do well to remember that Mr.Kecskerey was a personage of remarkable consideration in the highest circles, and enjoyed a position of distinction there peculiarly his own.
The worthy cavalier--I mean Mr.Kecskerey--had just drawn Rudolf underneath a chandelier, whether that people might see them together there, or whether he himself might see Rudolf better, I cannot say.

The two young belles, the queens of the ball, were walking in front of them, arm-in-arm.

How beautiful they both were! "What a pair!" cried Kecskerey, rapturously.

"To which of them would that wretched mythological Paris have given the apple of Eris, if he had had to choose between two such goddesses?
And how they walk, arm-in-arm.
A true _belle alliance_! Nay, I express myself badly, I ought to say _affreuse alliance_! Why, separately they are capable of subjugating the world! Why need they combine their charms?
My friend, beware of this dangerous alliance; Madame Karpathy is a splendid woman." "My wife is the prettier," replied Rudolf, with mild self-satisfaction.
"I honour you for that word, Rudolf.

You are indeed a tender husband! But your wife really is an angel.