Next day I paid my official visit to the Roderich family.

The doctor's house, which had a large garden, was a modern building furnished with a taste which bore witness to a refined artistic sense.One of its most remarkable features was a glazed gallery on to which opened a number of doors draped with antique tapestry.These led to Dr.Roderich's study, to the drawing-room, and to the dining-room.

In the gallery I saw on an easel, and I admired, the portrait of Mademoiselle Myra, a splendid work worthy of the name with which it was signed.

Dr.Roderich was about fifty, but he would scarcely have been credited with such an age.He was of tall stature with an upright carriage;he had thick greying hair, and he showed every sign, not merely of good health but of a vigorous constitution on which no illness had ever seized.As soon as I was introduced to him I felt in the warm grip of his hand that I was in the presence of the best of men.

Madame Roderich, then forty-five, had still kept the remains of her former beauty, and Marc had described her very accurately.She gave the impression of being a splendid woman endowed with all the domestic virtues, who found complete happiness in being with her husband, and who adored her son and her daughter with all the tenderness of a wise and sympathetic mother.The warm friendship she showed me touched me very deeply.She would be happy, she assured me, to have Marc Vidal's brother in her home, on condition that he would be good enough to regard it as his.

But what could I say about Myra Roderich?She came to me, smiling, her hand or rather her arms outstretched.Yes, it was really a sister that I was going to have in this young girl, a sister who kissed me and whom I kissed without standing on ceremony.And I fancied that on seeing this Marc felt a prick of envy.

‘I haven't got as far as that yet!'he sighed, not without a touch of jealousy.

‘Because you're not my brother, 'laughed my future sister-in-law.

Mademoiselle Roderich was indeed everything that Marc had depicted, just as he had shown her on that canvas that I had admired.A young girl, her charming head crowned with fine blonde hair, vivacious, witty, her dark blue eyes sparkling with intelligence, her face having the warm tints of the Hungarian carnation, a wellshaped mouth, rosy lips opening to disclose teeth of a dazzling whiteness.Of something over medium height.with graceful movements, she was charm itself, marked by perfect distinction without affectation or pose.

Really, of it was said of Marc's portraits that they were more lifelike than their models, it could equally be said that Mademoiselle Myra was more natural than nature!

Like her mother, Myra Roderich wore Magyar costume, a blouse closed at the neck, sleeves embroidered at the wrist, a dress fastened with metal buttons, a belt knotted with gold ribbon, a skirt whose folds floated down to her ankles, leather slippers—all things considered, a very attractive attire in which the most delicate taste would have found nothing to dislike.

Captain Haralan was there, superb in his uniform and with a striking resemblance to his sister.He had given me his hand, he too treated me like a brother, and we were already good friends although our friendship dated only from the previous day.So now I knew the whole family.

‘What a pleasure it is to see you here, Monsieur Vidal!'Myra Roderich repeated, holding out her hands in a gesture of welcome.‘Your journey seemed to take a long time and we were getting rather uneasy.We didn't feel reassured until we got the letter you sent us from Budapest.'

‘I feel very guilty, Mademoiselle Myra, 'I replied, ‘very guilty for having been so long on my way.I should have been in Ragz sometime ago if I'd come by postchaise from Vienna.But the Hungarians would never forgive me for having disdained the Danube, of which they are so justly proud and which deserves its reputation.'

‘We pardon you in its honour, Monsieur Vidal.'Madame Roderich assured me, ‘because you're here at last and now there's nothing to delay the happiness of these two children.'

As she spoke she glanced affectionately at her daughter and Marc;they were already united in her heart, as in that of Dr.Roderich.As for the‘two children, 'they were eating one another with their eyes, as people say.I was touched to see the innocent happiness of this delightful family.

There was no question of going out that afternoon, so Madame Roderich and her daughter took me round their home and showed me the works of art which it contained.

‘And what about the tower?'exclaimed Myra, ‘does Monsieur Vidal imagine that his first visit will be complete without his having gone up our tower?'

‘No, Mademoiselle Myra, no!'I replied, ‘there hasn't been one of Marc's letters which didn't praise this tower, and, to tell the truth, I only came to Ragz so as to go up it.'

‘Then you'll do it without me, 'said Madame Roderich, ‘because it's a trifle high.'

‘Oh, mother, only a hundred and sixty steps!'

‘At your age, that's only four steps a year, 'said Captain Haralan, ‘but stay here, mother, we'll find you in the garden.'

‘En route for the sky!'laughed Myra.

She rushed away and we found it difficult to keep up with her light footsteps.In a few minutes we had got to the top, whence a splendid landscape offered itself to our gaze.

I was delighted by this splendid view, which extended to the furthest limits of the horizon, and Mademoiselle Myra thought she ought to point out some of its more interesting features.

‘There, 'she explained, ‘that's the aristocratic quarter, with its palaces, its mansions, its squares, its statues.Further down on that side, Monsieur Vidal, you can see the business quarter with its streets crowded with people, its markets……And the Danube, for we must always get back to our Danube, isn't it lively just now!And that green island with its thickets and its fields and its flowers!My brother mustn't forget to take you there, '

‘You can be quite certain, 'Captain Haralan replied, ‘that I shan't spare Monsieur Vidal even a corner of Ragz.'

‘And our churches, 'Mademoiselle Myra continued, ‘can you see our churches and their belfries, with their carillons and their bells?You'll hear them on Sunday!And our Town Hall, with its Court of Honour, its high roof, its great windows and its belfry, whose deep voice announces the hours!'

‘Tomorrow, 'I assured her, ‘I'll have visited it to report my arrival in town.'

‘Well, Monsieur, 'Mademoiselle Myra turned towards Marc, ‘while I'm showing your brother the Town Hall, what are you looking at?'

‘The Cathedral, Mademoiselle Myra, with its impressive bulk, its towers, its central steeple which rises towards heaven as if it were showing the prayers their way, and above all its great staircase.'

‘And why, 'asked Myra, ‘are you so enthusiastic about that staircase?'

‘Because it leads, just below the steeple, to a certain place in the choir where……'Marc was looking at his fiancée, whose charming pretty face had begun to show a slight blush.

‘Where?'asked Myra.

‘Where I shall hear from your lips the finest of all words, although it has only one syllable, and the loveliest too!'

Then we went down to the garden, where Madame Roderich was waiting for us.

That day I dined with the family, and we spent the whole evening together.More than once Mademoiselle Myra sat down at the clavichord and accompanied herself as she sang very sweetly those wonderful Hungarian melodies which nobody can hear without being moved.It was a delight which would have been continued until a late hour if Captain Haralan had not given the signal that it was time for us to leave.

When we got back to the hotel Marc followed me into my room.

‘Was I exaggerating?'he asked me, ‘and do you think that anywhere in the world there's another girl……'

‘Another!'I replied, ‘but I'm beginning to wonder if there's even one, and whether Mademoiselle Myra really exists!'

‘Oh, my dear Henri, how I love her!'

‘Well, that doesn't surprise me, my dear Marc!if you didn't, I'd disown you as my brother!'

Thereupon we went to bed without any cloud having shadowed that happy peaceful day.