Zrinyi found his opportunity. “May I be permitted a suggestion, Highness?” he asked. “The Chardash has been ruined by society--is a miserable degenerate thing. They sway and glide and languish. Have you ever seen the peasants dance it? They have preserved it in all its original simplicity, energy, and variety. If you could see them--and then dance it here in the palace as it should be danced--it is never vulgar, never boisterous, merely virile, full of the abandon of a happy and healthy people--” “But how can I see it? I learn any dance quickly, but I must see it.” “To-morrow is a _festa_,” said Zrinyi eagerly. “The peasants will be dancing all day. If you would go far enough you would see them in their native costumes--impossible near Budapest; but if you would deign to go five hours on the train--to a village on one of my estates--” “Deign!” whispered Alexandra. The Archduchess turned to her Obersthofmeisterin with a very pretty show of deference. “I should like it,” she said. “And I believe it is the right thing to do. I could go very simply dressed; they have not yet seen me; I should be under no restraint--what do you think, _ma princesse_?” “I shall have to go too,” grumbled Sarolta. “And there must be no publicity about it. We must not get the reputation here in Budapest for eccentricities; neither must we ever explain ourselves--how early can we leave here in the morning?” “At five?” said Zrinyi. “And we can return late--the palace can be lighted up at seven as usual. I like the idea of seeing the Chardash properly danced once more--so be it, then. Mind you are at the station before us, Géra, and that you exert all your talents in carrying out the programme. We shall dine with you, of course.” “Hurrah!” said Alexandra. “_Élyen!_” murmured Zrinyi. Ranata for a moment said nothing. Then with a sudden impulse for which she could give no reason then or later, she turned to Alexandra and said, “Where is your brother? Have you heard from him?” “Not a word since I asked him to come here. He had probably started on his wanderings before my letter reached Berlin. He may be on the Russian steppes or over in Pest. The one is as likely as the other.” X