too . She had not a vestige of that feminine vanity which is the curse of so many of her sex; and her word was sure—she was never known to go back from it. She would rather have had her thumb cut off than waver one inch from her promise once given.
The whole household at Labutín Castle was just a reflection of the baroness’s character. Nowhere and in nothing could one find simplicity, uprightness, and natural bearing; but everywhere and in everything constraint stiffness, conventionality.
Baron Edmund, or, as he was mostly called from the example given by his mother, “Baron Mundy,” the chief person in the house next to her, though not unconscious of his own importance, stood in great fear of his mother; as did also his young sister, the Baroness Salomena, or Sály, just ripening into womanhood, and as did all the servants, high and low, the number of whom, from economical reasons, was not very large.
Baron Mundy was a gay, pleasure-loving man, who did not look upon life through punctilious glasses; but before his mother, or within her sphere, the mercury of his ardent, youthful liberalism sank below the freezing-point. To make up for this he let the reins loose, and threw of constraint, whenever he was beyond the reach of his mother’s eyes—and that was pretty often.
The management of the extensive estate kept the mother so busy, that she sometimes forgot to manage her children. Besides, she was firmly convinced that she had educated and brought them up in such a manner as rendered it quite impossible for them ever to break loose from the constraints which she imposed.
Baroness Sály took more after her mother; but as she felt no filial love for her, and as the natural development
