"H-m! You had better ask your cousin Akos what he thinks of them the next time you see him," said he. "Why, does he see much of them? I thought he was as much against their coming as you were." "So he was! So he was! as strongly as any one! but--well, you know a page must go where he is sent, and his Majesty seems to want a good many messages taken. At all events, Akos is often with the Kun folk, and what is more, one never hears a word against them from him now! Bright eyes, Dora, bright eyes! and a deal of mischief they do." "But can Akos understand them?" "It seems so; he has picked the language up pretty quickly, hasn't he? It is all jargon to me, but then I have not had his practice! Father Roger says their tongue is something like our Magyar, a sort of uncouth relation, but I don't see the likeness myself." "And the Princesses are really pretty?" Dora asked again. "Prettier than their parents by a good deal! Yes, they are pretty girls enough, I suppose," said Peter grudgingly, "some people admire them much, particularly the younger one, Mária, as she is now. She used to be Marána, but that's the name they gave her at her baptism, and the other they called Erzsébet (Elizabeth). The King and Queen and their sons all have Magyar names now. But they will bring no good to the country," Master Peter added, after a pause, "no good, that I am sure of! Why, there have been quarrels already where they have settled them. Everybody hates the sight of them and their felt tents, and the King has had to divide them. What have they been doing? Why, plundering their neighbours to be sure, as anyone might have known they would. Mere barbarians, that's what they are, and we shall have a pretty piece of work with them before we have done." "And Jolánta, you saw her?" Dora interposed, by way of diverting her father's attention from a topic which invariably excited him. "Yes, I saw Jolánta," was the answer, given with such a grave shake of the head that Dora asked whether there were anything amiss with her. "Amiss? h-m! Dora, my girl," said Master Peter, laying his hand affectionately on her shoulder, "I am glad that _you_ did not marry him!" "I?" laughed Dora, "why should I?" "Ah, you have forgotten how they used to call you 'Paul's little wife,' when you were only a baby, and you did not know, of course, that your old father was fool enough to be disappointed when he chose your cousin instead." "But isn't he kind to her? Isn't she happy?" inquired Dora. "That is a question I did not ask, child, so I can't say. But she is just a shadow of what she was." "Selfish scoundrel!" burst forth Master Peter the next moment, unable to keep down his indignation, which was not solely on Jolánta's account.