rouble herself much either with her own heart or with hose of other people—she had no time for it; and, in short, to use her own expression, she was not “made of soft dough.” In money matters and all sorts of business concerns she was as sharp as a needle. No steward was ever born yet who could have swindled her out of a bushel of corn; or if perhaps he succeeded once in doing so, he would certainly never be able to manage it a second time, for she would have dismissed him on the spot. From break of day till nightfall baroness Salomena was on her feet. There was not a nail in a wicket-gate on her wide domains unknown to her, and, as might have been expected, the consequence of all this active and judicious oversight was that the estate was in a most flourishing condition, and abundance prevailed everywhere; debts were unknown, and the rich dowry of nany thousand florins of the young Baroness Sály, the second child of the old Baroness Salomena, had been well secured in good and safe investments long before anybody could have thought of her marrying.
Besides all this, the Baroness Salomena was very strict in the matter of morals; she was ostentatiously pious, and she certainly sometimes did good deeds, but always “to be seen of men;” for it must be confessed that she “loved the praise of men.” Another strongly marked feature in her character, which indeed may be said to have towered above all the rest, was an overbearing, atristocratic pride. Whenever she spoke to any one not of noble birth, however high his position or distinction, she always did so with such an obvious effort of condescension, that the person so addressed was sure to turn iway disgusted, or with a smile of ridicule. Yet with all these objectionable qualities she had some good points,
