"Oh, that is no secret. Our officials are in a body quite ready to fleece the folk in the very way that has aroused your indignation. But up till now, we have elected these officials ourselves, and we would rather have them over us, even if they were stained with the seven capital sins, than have the Emperor's nominees, were they angels from heaven. This is no legal quibble, but a question of actual conditions. Whatever the people suffer, they will recover sooner or later; if a man dies, another is born in his place; but the constitution can neither suffer nor die. You stand for the Emperor, I stand for the voice of the nation. Both are mortal. We shall see which of the two survives. But I warn you to reckon on no one's support in the work you have undertaken, for everyone will regard you as an enemy." "Thank you," said Ráby. "Also, there is a satisfaction in remembering that there is at least one man I can reckon on who won't desert me." "And who is that, pray?" asked Tárhalmy smiling rather grimly, for he thought it was the Emperor he meant. "Why myself." The pronotary embraced him, exclaiming tenderly as he did so: "Poor fellow, poor fellow!" Then he said gently: "Farewell, in case I never see you again!" And Mathias Ráby went away without mentioning even a word of Mariska. What a horrible thing these politics are, to be sure! CHAPTER XI. Ráby had scarcely left, than pretty Mariska put her little head in at the opposite door which led from the reception-room to the dining-parlour. Mr. von Tárhalmy was striding up and down the apartment as if perturbed. "Did you call me, dear father?" asked the girl. "No, no, child; but come in." "You are not vexed, father?" "Not a bit of it, my dear." "I thought you were quarrelling with someone." "Nothing of the sort. We have only been discussing some business matters. So just come in." The girl nestled up to her father's side affectionately. "I quite thought you called me," she murmured, "and that you said, we have a guest coming to-morrow, Mariska." "Aha, you are right enough," smiled Tárhalmy. "Of course I said so. Your cousin Matyi will dine with us to-morrow. Bless me, if I hadn't quite forgotten all about it." "And it's well I should know it in good time." "Yes, indeed, and see you have his favourite dishes for him. Have you plenty of stores, or must any be procured?" "No, indeed, I have everything I want in the house." And therewith, Mariska kissed her father's hand, nay both of them, and danced back into the next room as light-hearted as a bird. And the two maids at the spinning-wheel must be up and doing; one to pound almonds in the mortar; the other to sift fine flour for fritters. The Fräulein herself set about peeling lemons, seeing she was going to make some of Matyi's favourite cakes, such as no Vienna pastry-cook could turn out. And through the whole household there was the sound of singing, for Mariska too could sing on occasion--and this was one.