Mr. Sandor, the owner of the registry-office in Buda-Pesth, had told me in his last letter that he was going to meet me at the station, and asked me to carry a handkerchief in my hand. I had passed a night, and when we arrived in Buda-Pesth in the morning I felt quite stiff, and got out from the rather clumsily, with my brown canvas trunk in one hand, and a handkerchief in the other. I looked up and down the platform, and soon observed an elderly gentleman who hurried up to me.  
"Have you come from Langenau?"
 
"Yes," I said, and would have given a world to know what he thought of me.
 
"Do you want a taxi?" he asked, throwing a quick glance at my trunk.
 
 
All the money I did not amount to more than sixpence, and I shook my head violently at his question.
 
"No, no; I would rather walk."
 
"Just as you like."
 
A few minutes later he asked me whether he might be permitted to carry my trunk, but again I shook my head. After rather a long way he stopped at one of the tall, beautiful houses, and I thought it was the house of the family who had engaged me.
 
"Are we there?" I asked, with my heart beating to my very throat.
 
"No," he answered smilingly; "here is my own . I have taken you here first so that you can make yourself a little more tidy before you are presented to your new mistress. My wife will certainly be pleased to help you."
 
He had opened a door and we entered a pretty-looking room. A lady came in. She nodded at me very pleasantly, and Mr. Sandor said something to her in the Hungarian language, which of course I did not understand. After that he turned again to me: "I leave you with my wife now; as soon as you are ready I shall be ready too."
 
Not until the door had closed behind him, did I understand the ridiculous position I was in. He expected me to change my clothes, never suspecting that they were my best.
 
"Don't be shy," the lady said; "do just as if you were at home."
 
But even if I had been really at home, I could not have done much more. I that I did not want to change my dress, but should like to have a clothes-brush, if there was one handy.
 
"Of course," Mrs. Sandor replied, "here is one;" and with a smile she handed to me the desired brush. I used it with clumsy haste and gave it back.
 
"Is that really everything?" she asked me in the same pleasant way as before.
 
"Yes, everything."
 
After that she called her husband in.
 
"Ready then?"
 
"Quite," I replied, and stooping down to lift up my trunk, I said "Good-day" to Mrs.[Pg 132] Sandor, and followed her husband out into the street.
 
We did not go far on this occasion. He stopped at the corner of the road and told me to follow him into the tram-car, a command which I found great difficulty in obeying. However, I got in at last, and Mr. Sandor sat down beside me.
 
"I dare say," he commenced after a little while, "my letters were quite clear to you, and that you are in no doubt as to your future duties. With regard to your mistress, I do not think that there can be found a more kind and gentle creature, and I am sure that you will feel very comfortable in her house. As far as the three boys are concerned, you will have to find out for yourself the best way to get on with them, and I hope that you will remain there for a long time."
 
He kept on talking in this strain, and in my heart of hearts I wondered whether I really looked so silly and common a girl as my brother had thought me. The house to which Mr. Sandor took me was a very fine-looking building. There was a broad marble staircase, covered with a carpet, which was kept in its place by rods of shining . A smart-looking parlour-maid led the way into a roomy hall, bidding us to wait. I put my trunk on the floor, and with my heart beating fast sat down on the edge of a chair. Mr. Sandor seated himself too, but his heart did not seem to beat any faster. We had to wait for rather a long time, and I was almost wishing that we might be left there to wait for ever. But in the very midst of that thought fell the sound of footsteps, and a lady entered. I felt so embarrassed that I could not speak, and stood up terribly ashamed. But she never looked at me. She to Mr. Sandor in Hungarian, and I grew doubtful whether she knew that there was anyone else in the room. All at once she turned her head and looked at me with searching eyes.
 
"Are you quite sure that you will like to stay in Buda-Pesth?" she asked me. I did not quite know what she meant and only bowed my head in silence. "I am afraid that you might grow home-sick, and I should so hate to change again."
 
"No," I said; "I am sure I shall like it very much."
 
Mr. Sandor then said "Good-morning" to the lady, and as he shook hands with me he begged me not to forget what he had told me. After he had gone, the lady bade me follow her and led the way into a room that was furnished completely in white. A table stood in the centre and around it three boys, whom I guessed to be my charges, were sitting. They got up as we entered and looked rather shyly at me.
 
"Your new governess," the lady said to the children. "Won't you say 'Good-morning' to her?"
 
Once alone with the children, my shyness left me. I shook hands with them and asked a few simple questions which they answered in broken German. After I had taken off my things, I busied myself at once in amusing the children, tired though I was. I built houses of paper on the table, and did various little things to help me to gain some courage.
 
 
After a few days I grew more , and dropped my shyness even towards the mistress. I could see that she was satisfied with me, and since the children also were very fond of me, I no longer felt afraid of being sent away.
 
I had plenty to do. To take the children to school and to fetch them back again. Also to take them for walks when the weather was fine enough. The darning and sewing I did when they lay asleep.
 
Apart from a burning home-sickness that had taken hold of me and tortured me especially in the evenings I felt quite happy there, and no doubt believed that I had found at last what I had been for all my life. There was one thing, however, that darkened the clear horizon of my days: I had not a single decent dress to wear. It would hardly have troubled me, but I knew that my mistress wanted me to be dressed smartly. She had made little remarks sometimes, which, although never addressed directly to me, gave me to understand that she was ashamed for her friends—whose governesses looked so smart that I had mistaken them for mistresses at the beginning—to see me.
 
One day my mistress came into the nursery, and, looking around somewhat discontentedly, said:
 
"The children have been invited to tea, but who shall accompany them?"
 
I looked at her in surprise.
 
"Why, I, of course."
 
"Impossible; you can't go there in that blue dress of yours."
 
I remembered my brother and what he had told me, and started to again about being sent away. I had not been there for a whole month, and had not yet received my wages. But my mind was made up that I would buy a dress as soon as I had my money, and I had already looked in all the shop-windows in order to choose one. There were several dresses that I should have liked to buy, but on looking at the price I was so that I avoided the shop-windows for days afterwards.
 
My shoes were wearing out too, and when the thirty-five shillings at last fell due, there were so many great and little things needed that the wonderful thirty-five shillings melted down to a few small before I had been able to think of buying a new dress.
 
One evening, when I was busily putting the children to bed, the master came into the nursery and, after having exchanged a few words with each of the boys, stepped over to where I was and my blouse he said:
 
"Don't you feel cold in it?"
 
It was a very simple remark, and quite too, because it was cold and the blouse was thin, but the look that he threw at me reminded me of coarse and ugly words I had often heard before.
 
I said that I did not feel cold, and when he reached out his hand again I stepped back quickly.
 
He came in earlier from that day onwards, and spent much time in the nursery. He talked chiefly with the children, but all the while his eyes wandered over me, and I felt that each look he gave me was like a new . One afternoon when my mistress was out, the children at school, and I was sitting in the nursery busy over some mending, the door opened and the master came in. It was not his to leave his office during the daytime, and bowing my head a little I looked at him with some surprise. He closed the door very carefully and leaned against the table. I had taken up my work again, but my fingers trembled. He did not speak, and the silence became to me.
 
"Why," he said at last, "why don't you look at me?"
 
"Because the children need the things," I replied, bending my face still closer over my darning.
 
"Quite so; but if I want to speak to you, you ought to have a little time."
 
I thought that I had been rude, perhaps, since after all he was the master, so I got up from the chair and looked at him submissively.
 
"You know," he said very slowly and with a inflection in his voice—"you know that I mean to be kind to you, that your welfare interests me, and that I would not mind a little sacrifice on my part if you would only appreciate it."
 
I opened my mouth to make some clumsy reply, but with his hand he waved to me to be silent, and continued:
 
"You must know yourself that you are in somewhat pressed circumstances, and I am quite willing to give you a large advance. There is, of course, no need that you should mention that to my wife...." And while he finished the last sentence he produced a small bundle of bank-notes and put it on the table.
 
At that I lost my head and flew into a terrible rage.
 
"Take that money away," I shouted, "or I will tear it up!" and because he did not take it away at once, I flung it at his feet. He stooped to pick it up, but his eyes as he turned them to me were shining with anger.
 
"I am going to tell my wife at once," he said, "to get a lady and no servant-girl for my children."
 
After that he went.
 
 
I was to leave the house immediately, and could scarcely wait for the evening when the mistress would come in. But before she came in I received a letter from home that contained most pitiable news about the financial side of their circumstances. "Could not I send a little money, just to keep the little ones from starving?" was their yet urgent request. I had received my salary a few days ago and not spent it yet. I took every penny of it and hurried to a post-office. After the receipt was handed to me I felt somewhat relieved, and having hidden it in my pocket very carefully I hastened home.
 
It was getting late and I started to put the children to bed, inwardly troubled and disturbed because it had occurred to me that I had no money and could not very well leave my place before another month. I would not think of looking out for another situation in Buda-Pesth itself. I had suffered so much from humiliations and home-sickness that I hated the very sight of the houses and streets. I remembered the threat of my master, but it left me cold. If they were really going to send me away it was quite a different thing from casting away the shelter above my head.
 
My mistress returned with her husband at about eight in the evening. She came into the nursery with her hat and veil on and asked whether the boys had been good. I answered in the affirmative, whereupon she left again. I used to take my supper in the nursery. The dining-room was not far away, and I could hear the clicking of the forks and knives quite plainly. That evening I listened to every sound, anxious to know whether they spoke about me. But they never mentioned my name. My mistress laughed several times, and told her husband about something in her highly-pitched voice. She always talked loudly, and I was constantly afraid that she might wake the children when they lay asleep.
 
The next morning my mistress treated me quite in the usual manner, and I felt certain that her husband had said nothing against me. After I had taken the children to school I tidied the nursery. When I was about to do the little beds the door opened and the cook came in with a pair of boots in her hands. I had picked up a little Hungarian by now, and could make myself understood quite well. The boots were a pair of mine which I had taken to be repaired a few days before. She told me that the shoemaker was waiting in the kitchen, and named the price that was owing for the mending. With a sudden terror I remembered that I had sent away all my money, and had not a penny left to pay for the shoes. After thinking for a few moments I told her to give him back the shoes.
 
"But," she insisted, looking down at my feet which were in shoes that certainly were not new, "don't you want them?"
 
&q............