They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [72]
Many people arrived early and so the long-legged Garazda Boy was fully occupied from the start in showing people to their places, running constantly from the head of the stairs to the official platform and back again. He was very conscientious and felt it important, if he was to make a success of the evening, that each lady as she arrived should be seen to be escorted the full length of the hall down the double line of the other assembled guests. His assistant was the young Dezso Laczok, who was only in his second year at the university and hero-worshipped his superior; these two young men hurried alternately up and down the room anxiously trying to keep order and see that everyone was in their proper place before darting back again when a new head-dress swam into view at the head of the stairs. The Boy, with his long legs, managed it at a run, while Dezso, who was smaller, practically skated across the polished floor. Then, with the new arrival in tow, they would bow ceremoniously as they made the necessary presentation to the Patronesses. All in all they managed it very well. It was not an easy task to keep order with such a throng, but they carried it off with only one mishap. This was due, not to any female guest, but to Isti Kamuthy.
Plump little Isti, when in London the previous summer, had had made a pink hunting jacket by one of the most fashionable tailors in Savile Row. It was a marvellous coat made out of some material that was as hard and stiff as zinc. He had been anxious to have it generally admired and had thought of wearing it at Zsuk for the St Hubertus Day meet. Then someone had told him that in England pink coats were not worn when hunting with harriers and so, after repeatedly telling this to all his friends, he had had to be content with wearing an old green coat when out with the hounds as he realized he could not himself now break with such a hallowed tradition. It was a painful decision for young Isti, but the marvellous pink coat – which had cost all of eight and a half guineas – had had to stay unused hanging in his wardrobe. Then the opportunity came. He heard of the Bal des Têtes and decided that if he could not wear the coat in the hunting field he would wear it to the ball, regardless of the fact that all the other men would be in classical black evening dress. If challenged he would say he thought it was a costume ball and so, that evening, he pulled on his white breeches, a pair of riding boots, and donned the pink masterpiece. He himself knew that he would outdo everyone by the splendour of his coat and that all the girls would admire him. And he would cut such a dash that one or two of them might even fall in love with him.
When Isti first set foot in the hall everyone’s amazement was everything he could have wished. There was a sudden hush, and then a clamour of joy broke out and he found himself surrounded by a bevy of young girls who crowded round him to touch and admire and giggle … and make fun of him. Everyone talked at once, all demanding to know why he had thought to come dressed like that. For some moments Isti thought that he had all the success he had hoped for – but not for long. In an instant the great cluster of girls fell back with an expression of disgust; and then his dreadful outspoken little niece, Malvinka, said out loud what everyone else was thinking.
‘Isti! You stink of the stables!’
This was something that he had never thought about; but the moment it had been said he knew