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Authors: Miklos Banffy

Tags: #Fiction, #Cultural Heritage

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BOOK: They Were Counted
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Chapter Four
 
 

A
S FAR AS MOST
of the upper classes were concerned,
politics
were of little importance, for there were plenty of other things that interested them more.

There were, for instance, the spring racing season, partridge shooting in late summer, deer-culling in September and pheasant shoots as winter approached. It was, of course, necessary to know when Parliament was to assemble, when important party
meetings
were to take place or which day had been set aside for the
annual
general meeting of the Casino, for these days would not be available for such essential events as race-meetings or grand
social
receptions. And, after the Budapest races, the Derby season in Vienna would follow, and so many people would be away at that time that it would be useless to make plans for a time when ‘nobody’ would be in the Budapest.

Now, at the beginning of May, the social season was at its peak. The greatest event was the King’s Cup race, which many people came from Vienna to attend, especially the great Austrian breeders and stud-owners and many of the rich young men about town. Among these last Montorio had already arrived so as to
attend
the great race and also the big ball to be given afterwards at the Park Club. He encountered the Kollonich party at the races and immediately engaged Klara for the cotillion. As he spoke the girl detected an unusually determined ring in his voice and took this as a warning that she must be careful.

Before leaving for Budapest the prince had decided that the matter of his marriage could wait no longer. He had to know where he stood. He wanted to get married and he knew that his mother approved of the Kollonich girl. It would be a good match; he liked Klara and her ample dowry. Everything seemed to be set fair and yet somehow the matter had dragged on. It was
possible
that the girl was not willing, and if that were so he would look elsewhere. He decided he must get the affair settled one way or the other on the first night of his visit to Budapest. He was
confident
that he only had to ask to be accepted, for had not his mother shown him the Princess Kollonich’s letters in which she had hinted strongly that this was so? Such a handsome young man, Princess Agnes had said, so nice, so attractive!

Laszlo Gyeroffy was also at the races. When Klara walked down with Magda Szent-Gyorgyi and some other girls to the paddock where the glossy-coated thoroughbreds were being walked round before being saddled up, Laszlo joined them. They leaned together on the white-painted wooden rails.

Although Klara gave the impression that she was engrossed in her race programme, Laszlo sensed that she wanted to tell him something important, and was only studying the names of the horses with such intensity because she was waiting until the other girls’ attention was distracted. When Magda started a heated
argument
about the identity of one of the horses, Klara turned quickly to him and said in a low voice: ‘I have to have supper
tonight
with Montorio. Come and sit on my right and as soon as we can get up ask me at once for the supper-csardas. It’s vitally important! I think he wants to ask me something …’ She broke off and turned to the others, joining in their discussion about the bay mare. Later they all strolled slowly back to the grandstand.

The supper was given in one of the ground-floor rooms of the Park Club. The night was warm and the windows on to the garden were all open. Klara chose a table far away from the band. She sat down with Montorio and three other couples who were her usual companions. With Laszlo there were nine at the table, and because of Montorio’s presence, they all spoke either in German or English. They were all very lively, led by Klara who was in high good humour, wickedly vivacious and provoking, flirting with all the young men in turn and keeping everyone so amused that the conversation remained general. She was determined that this should be so as she dreaded giving Montorio the chance to talk quietly to her alone. Her female intuition had told her that
sometime
that evening he would ask her to marry him, and this she was determined to avoid. It would be too awkward if he insisted on a definite answer and she was forced to prevaricate; somehow, therefore, he must not be given any opportunity to speak.

Gaily, and unusually loudly for her, she teased Magda, who was sitting opposite her across the table with Imre Warday. Her normally soft eyes glittered and her beautiful lips curled with amusement as she kept up a stream of high-spirited mockery of the others. The music could hardly be heard at this end of the room and Klara kept them all laughing and joking until the
supper
was over. They all thought they had never had such a good time and Warday was especially pleased that Klara seemed to have singled him out. Only Montorio was more silent than usual.

When the time came for the supper-csardas, Laszlo went over to the band-leader to tell him to take the musicians up to the
ballroom
. As he did so the other couples also rose and moved away. Klara stood up and started to pull on her gloves.


Wollen
wir
nicht
ein
bischen
in
den
Garten
– wouldn’t you like a
little
turn in the garden?’ said Montorio in a low voice, and added: ‘
Es
ist
so
schwiil hier
– it’s so crowded in here.’


Ich finde
nicht
!’ said Klara, shaking her head.


Nur
ein
Moment.
Ich
möchte
Sie
etwas
wichtiges
fragen
– only for a moment. I have something important to ask you!’

This was serious.

For an instant Klara’s ocean-grey eyes seemed to darken. She hesitated. Looking up at his face, though at his mouth and the thin line of neat moustache rather than into his eyes, she realized that she hated him because he had found the way to an intimacy from which she shrank. Then she spoke:


Es
wäre
zwecklos
– there would be no point,’ she said slowly but with unmistakable emphasis.


So?
…’ said Montorio, straightening up stiffly. ‘
So
...
So

So

Vollkommen
– so that’s it, then!’

Laszlo rejoined them at this moment. Klara put her arm though his and together they hurried away, as if in flight through the hall, up the stairs and into the ballroom where the slow
opening
in the csardas was already beginning. Montorio stood
motionless
where he was. After a few moments he was alone in the supper-room. He passed his hand over his elegantly balding
forehead
and then, with an air of deliberate calm, he took out his cigarette-case and lit a cigarette before walking slowly towards the darkened entrance hall, threading his way through the rush of waiters who were busy clearing up the plates, and
surreptitiously
swilling down what remained of the champagne.

In the oval drawing-room which opened off the hall were some of the older ladies, gossiping together before going up to watch the dancing. Seeing Montorio by the doorway Princess Agnes
detached
herself from the group with whom she was talking and came towards him. Wearing her most proprietorial smile she said: ‘How lucky I am. I was just going to look for you! Could you come to us tomorrow at midday? A small luncheon,
en famille
, just ourselves!’

The young man replied coldly: ‘Thank you, Princess. You are most kind, but I shall be returning to Vienna on the morning train.’ His eyes were angry. Why had this woman made such a fool of him? If it hadn’t been for her letters he would never have made this humiliating attempt!

He bowed stiffly and moved on; not towards the stairs but straight to the main door and out into the open. Princess Agnes watched as he disappeared into the darkness outside.

 

It was nearly three o’clock when the Kollonich carriage was
driven
up to the portico in front of the Park Club entrance. It was a beautiful carriage hung elegantly on eight-fold springs, so
elegant
indeed that only the French word
équipage
could describe it. There were only two or three others to compare with it in the whole of Budapest. It was drawn by two large bay horses,
perfectly
matched and as perfectly groomed, their coats shining and when, as now, they stood still their hind legs were stretched out behind them like horses in equestrian statues. They were so
carefully
trained that they would stand motionless, without even the smallest movement of their neatly docked tails, for as long as the coachmen wished.

Most people had already switched to automobiles but the
Princess
Kollonich was so proud of her carriage and beautifully matched pairs of horses that she did not want to part with them. Their perfection had been a labour of love only achieved after many years’ study and careful preparation and, after all, anyone with enough money could own an expensive motor. A perfect
équipage
was only for those who understood such matters and to whom tradition and style were more important than the latest fashion. And why should anyone struggle to arrive more quickly when there was nothing to hurry for?

The two grooms jumped down and hurried forward to take their places on each side of the Park Club doorway. They bowed deeply as the princess and Klara, both wrapped in furs, moved slowly down the steps. One of them took Klara’s flowers from a footman who had followed them out, while the other hastened forward to open the carriage door and let down the folding steps. When the ladies were seated and a rug placed over their knees, the steps were folded up again, the doors firmly closed and the grooms jumped back to their places. The carriage moved slowly off, its rubber wheels making no sound on the pavement. The only noise to be heard was the ‘clip-clop’ of the horses’ hoofs as the carriage made its slow way back to town with the two ladies inside sitting in silence. Both lay back against the silken
upholstery
with tightly compressed lips.

The princess was pursuing the train of thought that had begun the moment that Montorio had so icily taken his leave of her.

What had happened? Something
must
have happened.
Montorio
had danced the quadrille with Klara so he must have had
supper
with her. He must have proposed at the table and been refused. That must be it! Nothing else would explain that angry glint in his eyes. This girl! This stupid, stubborn girl who could give up the chance of a husband who had everything, good looks, money, health, high rank. To refuse such a
parti
,
she must be mad! Unless there was someone else? But who? Of course! She must have been blind! For Laci, that little nobody, Laci, her own despised nephew! It must be. Hadn’t they sat together at supper throughout the whole Carnival? How naïve they must be if they thought that no one would notice!

These had been Princess Agnes’s first thoughts as she watched Montorio leave the club. After he had gone she went up to the ballroom and, as she had expected, there she found that Klara and Laszlo were dancing together, It was clear that they had eyes only for each other and that Klara was totally absorbed in her partner.

Now the princess found herself obliged to hide her thoughts and sit down with other mothers who were watching the dancing. To these she smiled and made polite conversation, to others she waved with friendly condescension and she chatted languidly with the elderly gentlemen whose families had forced them to
attend
the ball. No one must notice anything was wrong, and it was especially important to her that her sister Elise, the wife of Antal Szent-Gyorgyi, should not see her agitation. Elise was
sitting
beside her, calm and benign, but even she, with her great
position
, would not understand her sister’s distress. Elise was luckier than she was. She, too, had made a brilliant marriage but it had been a love-match and it had made her very happy. Szent-Gyorgyi was very different from Kollonich – the ‘good Louis, as she used deprecatingly to speak of her husband – for his manner was so autocratic, scornful and proud that everyone was afraid of him and his wife had been immediately accepted not only because of his unassailable social position but also because he expected it. On the other hand Kollonich was so good-natured that he noticed nothing, not even that his wife had had to struggle to be accepted into the top ranks of Hungarian society. He had been no help to her. How she had to work and plan and fight to get where she now was! And now Klara had to ruin it all and make a fool of her! It was unbearable and a sense of irritation kept sweeping over her in such waves that she had to struggle hard to control herself and maintain that calm, regal air that she always adopted when in the presence of others.

BOOK: They Were Counted
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