They Were Divided by Miklós Bánffy

‘Invite him, but tell him to wire and say when he is coming. I’ll need to have the heating put on in the guest rooms in plenty of time.’
    ‘It isn’t cold yet, Mama.’
    ‘It doesn’t signify. The weather might change any day and … it is better to know in advance.’
    It did not occur to Balint that his mother had had no such qualms when told of Gazsi’s visit.

Chapter Four
    F IVE DAYS LATER GAZSI ARRIVED , riding his thoroughbred mare Honeydew, who was now so changed that it was hard to believe that it was the same animal who a couple of years before, had been the terror of all the jockeys on the track. Now she seemed as quiet as the old spotted farm donkey, though it was true that she allowed no one but Gazsi on her back.
    ‘I had to r-r-ride over,’ said Gazsi apologetically, ‘because Honeydew needed the work. Actually I would far rather have dr-r -riven and then I could have brought a suitcase with me. But no one else can even walk this beast and only the other day, when I went to my sister’s, she kicked the young stable-boy in the belly. It’s r-r-real slavery, looking after this one,’ he said as he dismounted in the horseshoe court, and he bent his head sideways and looked plaintively at Balint as he always did when making a tragi-comedy of whatever he was doing. This time, however, Balint sensed that he was not joking for he seemed unusually serious and went on to say something quite out of the usual for him: he spoke of his clothes.
    ‘I know I oughtn’t to pr-r-resent myself to Aunt Roza looking like this,’ he said, ‘so scr-r-ruffy and unkempt, but I have brought something to change into in my saddle-bag. But you can’t get much in, I’m afraid.’
    ‘Really, Gazsi,’ said Balint, ‘that doesn’t matter for you! Why, my mother’s quite used to receiving you booted and spurred.’
    ‘Of course, of course! Who would expect anything else from a peasant like me?’ and he sounded so bitter that Balint instantly regretted speaking as he had.
    As it happened the saddle-bag produced a sort of dinner-jacket which had been made by a tailor in Torda. Though his shirt was wrinkled and his collar worn, when he presented himself at the dinner table, Gazsi looked tolerably presentable, indeed almostEuropean. He had obviously made an effort to look civilized, hopeless though his case might be, and he wore an unusually serious air.

    Later that evening, when the two young men had drunk tea and eaten some stewed apples with Countess Roza in her little first-floor drawing-room, Balint escorted his guest back through the huge empty dining-hall and down the stairs to the ground floor. They did not speak, for Balint had already noticed how unusually silent and preoccupied his guest had been, both at dinner and afterwards. It is true that he had told a number of amusing tales, in his usual wry, self-mocking humourous way; how he fell into the water while chasing an otter and how the beast just sat on the shore laughing at him; about the guard-dog at a vineyard who was tethered by a long wire and how he had stood still while the dog ran circles around him until it was he who was tethered – and then the dog had bitten him; and several others of the same sort, all clownishly acted out for the amusement of his hosts. Even so Abady sensed that he was going through the motions of being his normal self while his heart was not really in it. He had noticed that each time Gazsi paused for a moment a slight frown appeared on his forehead, suggesting that the same dark thought had once more taken possession of him. Balint wondered what on earth could be the matter and became increasingly worried, waiting for his guest to tell him what it was. At last he did. When they reached the foot of the stairs, Gazsi turned aside and said, ‘I’d like to talk something over with you. Can we …?’ and stopped.
    ‘Better come to me,’ said Balint. ‘The servants will soon be round to take away the lamps as my mother