Roumanian Stories Part 34

"Now, Lena, either you tell me, or----"

Lena knew Mistress Veta too well not to tell her that Costa was saying how he had seen Ana going down to the Timish with warm wine for Sandu, and how she had stood in the cold for two hours talking to him, and a great deal more besides.

Red was the wine, but Mistress Veta's face was redder still. She might have had an apoplectic stroke.

"Ah! He said those words?"

Lena did not know how to calm her.

"My dear, really I did not know how much it would upset you or I should never have told you. Why do you get so angry? Every one knows he is a liar and a mischief-maker without his equal in the empire, and who pays attention to all his tales, and all the world knows how you have brought up Ana. What tanner's daughter can touch her? Your Ana--come, leave it."

"I will not leave it," cried Mistress Veta, somewhat calmer. "I'll show him. To whom did he say these words?"

"I don't know to whom he said them; I heard of it in Trifu's house."

"In Trifu's house! Trifu is his cousin. Don't listen, Lena; do you believe his lies?"

"How could I believe him, my dear, how could I believe him? Neither did Trifu believe him. He said he would blush to invent such lies."

"Lies, Lena, lies. But let him see me! My daughter----"

"Say no more about it, Veta. May G.o.d keep Ana well, and you see her happy. Costa--but who's Costa? Everybody laughs when he opens his mouth."

"You heard it in Trifu's house! Who knows in how many places he has spit out his libels, for that man spits, Lena, he spits worse than any cat; but I am not I if I don't pay him out."

Lena agreed with her, and sympathized with her and urged her not to be so angry, for the whole town knew what Ana's behaviour always was, and people stood still and looked after her when she pa.s.sed by, sweet and modest as a rosebud.

"Why let yourself be unhappy, my dear?" she said, getting up to go, "when every one's heart swells when they see Ana, as if she were not the pride of us all when we see her going about with gentlemen's daughters. Ana is just herself, and there is no one like her, so why give yourself bad moments because of the t.i.ttle-tattle of a man like Costa?"

Mistress Veta accompanied Lena to the door, and came back asking herself what was to be done.

Master Dinu came back just at the right moment.

Without much hesitation his wife told him everything with various additions and improvements.

"Eh! And what of it?" he said. "Don't the people know us and our daughter, and don't they know what Costa's words are worth? Only Costa says it."

Mistress Veta looked furiously at him.

"What! The town is talking about your daughter, and you don't mind?"

"It isn't that I don't mind! Of course I mind, but what would you have me do? Go and kill him? Don't be like this."

"Not be like this? I'd better be like you and not care when they insult my daughter!"

"Come now, what am I to do?"

"What are you to do? Woe betide the house where the man is not a real man! Find out, discover to whom he has said it, collect witnesses, and see he never opens his mouth again."

"I will see about it."

"Don't see about it, find him."

Master Dinu knew that his wife must always have the last word, so he said nothing; he would have been glad not to be at home, but he could not go now. A few minutes later he said:

"Listen, Veta, all right, I will find witnesses, but supposing it's true?"

"True?" screamed his wife, and looked as though she could have thrown herself upon him and struck him. "True? Why doesn't G.o.d strangle the word in your throat?" she snarled, and hurriedly left the room.

A few seconds later she returned with Ana.

"Ana, hear your father say that it is true you took warm wine to Sandu."

The haste with which her mother had called her, and her father's expression so overcame her, that she stood with drooping head, and raising a corner of her ap.r.o.n began to cry.

"So this is where we have got to--get out of my sight that I may never see you again."

Mistress Veta sank exhausted on to a chair, while Ana sobbed as if her heart would break.

"Why all this to-do even if she did take wine to the poor man? What is the great harm in that? She took him wine because he was cold, and because I told her to go," said Master Dinu, going up to Ana. "Don't cry any more," and he stroked her forehead.

Ana continued to sob, and clung more and more tightly to her father. Master Dinu felt as if his heart would break.

"Go and kiss your mother's hand, it's nothing. Veta----"

"No, let her get out of my sight, let her go. Ana has done this to me, my prudent daughter, my good daughter, my much-praised daughter, her mother's joy--she has done this," and Mistress Veta shook her head while everything seemed to turn black before her eyes.

Master Dinu did not know what to do. To put an end to it, he drew Ana gently outside, and tried to quiet her sobs.

A little later he returned to the house. His wife was exhausted and depressed, and sat gazing at the floor.

Suddenly she rose.

"Dinu, you must give Sandu notice to-day, do you hear? If you don't go now and tell him never to show himself here again, you'll never have any peace from me."

"How can I dismiss the man in the middle of the night? You must see we cannot--and then, what harm has he done?"

Mistress Veta could have killed him with a look.

"You will give him notice, do you understand? Or I will turn him out."

"All right, Veta, we will give him notice, but what stories will be told about us outside! How we dismiss workmen on feast days, and turn them out of the house in the dead of night. You must be patient. To-morrow I will give him all the money due to him, and tell him to go in G.o.d's name."

"It's your business to deal with him; never let me see him again; if they make any fuss I'll scratch his eyes out. He has got us talked about, no other than he, do you hear? Let him get out of my workshop, or there will be trouble."

Early next day, Master Dinu went to the workshop and called to Sandu.

He found it difficult, and he much regretted having to part with him, but there was nothing else to be done. He asked him how long he had been in his workshop, what money he had drawn, and made the calculation as to how much he had still to receive.