You have accused one of my employees on mere tittle-tattle; and you don’t even dare to say where it came from.’

‘It’s not that I don’t dare, it’s merely that I cannot break a confidence.’

‘That’s quite enough reason for me not to take any of this seriously. As I told you before, I never have and I never will, as your dear father taught me! I wish only to say this: I am deeply hurt that you give more weight to the word of some secret informer than to that of your mother. I would never have expected it of you, never!’

Countess Abady fell silent. Then she stretched out to the Chinese lacquer bowl in which she kept her needlework, her white, chubby little hands scrabbling around in agitation. Balint got up.

‘But, dear Mama, there’s no question of that! I don’t mean that I don’t believe you …!’

He tried to take her hand to kiss it, but she drew it away. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about it! Now go away; this whole affair has upset me deeply. We will not speak of it again!’

For several days relations between Balint and his mother were icy. Several times the young man tried to broach the subject, but his mother always refused to listen. Therefore, although he continued to take his meals at home it was only out of a sense of duty, and he went out as soon as he was able to get away. He found it unbearable to look at his mother’s withdrawn expression, and even more unbearable to have to suffer the continual presence of the two fat housekeepers who, even though they spoke only when spoken to, sat constantly with Countess Abady like two female prison warders. So every day, when released from the bondage of mealtimes, he would wander round to the Casino Club and play Tarok for pennies with old gentlemen out of sheer boredom. Every day the town grew emptier.

It was on one of these days that the news arrived that Countess Miloth had died in Vienna; it was the only social news that interested Balint. On the other hand the political news did arouse his interest. Apponyi had presented his proposals for a new compulsory education law. Several minority members did all they could to obstruct the measure and it seemed that the debates were degenerating into mere inconclusive bickering. It was while reading these accounts in the newspapers that Balint, on the spur of the moment, decided to go back to Budapest. I can’t stay here any more, he said to himself. It’ll be better for everyone if I go away!

As it happened, when he announced that he would be leaving in a couple of days, relations with his mother improved at once. Countess Abady enquired tenderly when he would be back and then, as though to underline that peace had been re-established between them – though without any sign of her yielding – she started to talk about Balint’s management of the forest properties.

‘I really am very pleased with all the reforms you’ve put in hand in the mountains,’ she said. ‘You’ve obviously got a thorough grasp of it all now. I’d like you to start managing our lowland forests too. You know, the oak and beech woods near Hunyad. You can take full charge. No need to consult me except when there’s something really important to decide.’

Balint took her hand and kissed it.

Countess Abady went on, ‘Old Nyiresy is really no use any more as forest superintendent.’ She paused. ‘You see I do know who is useful and worthy of our trust. I’ll let the other know …’ thus avoiding mentioning Azbej by name, ‘… that you are the master there. But do tell me when you’ll be coming back?’

‘Unfortunately I can’t be sure; but I feel I should stay as long as the education debate goes on.