Zrinyi was leaning against one of the pillars, his black eyes flaming down upon Alexandra, who smiled upon him indulgently; she thought him a nice boy who might be useful in the cotillion and in general advice of a lighter nature. They were all discussing the momentous question of the first entertainment to be given by the new court. The dictum of the Princess Sarolta, that it must be a great ball, to which men and women should come in the ancient dress of Hungary, had been received with approval by all but Prince Illehazy, who scowled at his girth. “I thought I should burst the other night,” he admitted. “And I must say that my native costume always makes me feel more or less a fool. I suppose I have lived too much elsewhere.” “You are no patriot,” said his old friend, whose eye, as it followed his, twinkled with some malice. “I insist that you give up Vienna and Paris this winter and remain here as my private cabinet.” “You may need help,” he murmured, and he looked at Ranata. “And we? Are we to wear Hungarian costumes, too?” asked Alexandra. “By all means,” answered Ranata for the Princess. “I have already designed mine; the skirts and apron will be of white lace, and the bodice of black velvet.” “That will be your second stroke of diplomacy,” murmured Alexandra. “But it seems to me that I should be a screaming absurdity in an ancient Hungarian costume.” “Not if--not if--” muttered Zrinyi. “Why not make it a fancy-dress ball, everybody to be a personage of the court of Matthias Corvinus, during whose reign Hungary reached the height of its splendor and power and prosperity?” asked the Countess Piroska Zápolya. She looked full at the Archduchess with innocent blue eyes which were too widely opened for frankness. She was excessively pretty, and her mouth pouted like a spoiled child’s. She was a descendant of that Stephen Zápolya, vayvode of Transylvania, who, in 1526, after the terrible battle of Mohács, when Hungary was threatened with annihilation by the Turks, and her king lost his life, was elected to rule over the distracted country by the faction which believed in a native dynasty and peaceful relations with the enemy. Another powerful faction elected Ferdinand of Austria, and in spite of the occupations of the Turks, which gave the Hapsburg as little authority as his rival, his dynasty kept its grasp upon the shadow until it became substance; while the son of the trooper who had been raised to a position of such power and magnificence by Matthias that his ambition knew no bounds, was unable to extend his rule beyond Transylvania, and his dynasty ended in his son. His descendants, powerful magnates as they were, had two enduring grievances: their inferior descent as compared with that of the magnates whose line ran back unbroken to Árpád and haunted the mists beyond, and the ancient victory of the Hapsburgs. The first grievance was little discussed, but no Zápolya permitted