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\ .'a>

Previously issued under the tttfe of
The Children of the Soil

'WjL-

THE IRONY OF LIFE

Cfje ^olanet^fei jfamtl?

HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ

AUTHOR or "auo VADIg," «' KNIGHTI OT THE C«08.," ETC., ETC.

TRANSLATED BY

NATHAN M. BABAD

THE POOLE PUBLISHING COMPANY

TORONTO

900

COPYRTGHT, 1900

R. F. FENNO & COMPANY

The Irony of Life

THE IRONY OF LIFE.

CHAPTER I.

The iie\v-lx>rn day was but one hour old, wlien Polar
netzki readied Krenieii. In tlie days of liis childliood he
liad twice been the guest of tlie vilhige, whilher his
mother, — a distant relative of its i)iesent owner, — Ijrougljt
him to spend the summer vacation. Polanetzki emleav-
ored to recall to mind tiiis out-of-tlie-way little liandet,
but it proved no easy task. At ni^ht, by tlie [)ale light of
the moon, everything assumed a ditt'erent form. Over tlie
weeds, meadows, and swamps a white mist spread itself
thick and impenetrable, transforming the environs into a
seemingly shoreless lake. This illusion was intensilied by
the frogs, whose croaking alone broke the awe-inspiring
silence of the serene moonlight 'fuly night. From time to
time, when the chorus of the froijfs died awav in the mist,
there was heard instead the jx'culiar whistle of the rail-
bird, and from the direction of the jiond, hidden behind
tlie rows of alder-trees, cann! the call of the bittern-bird,
rising as though from under the ground. Polanei/.ki could
not resist the enchantment of this night. It seemed ref-
lated to him, and this lelatiou lie felt keenly, piobably
because he had returned but iceently from foreign lands,
where he had spent the lirst and best yeais of his early
youth, where lie afterward eiTgaged in business pursuits.

At this late hour, with the entianee into tlie peaeefully-
slumbering haudet, the dam of his memcny gave way, and
reminiscences of liis childliood iMine llowing back to him
with a strange vivid force; recollections of a time which

was dear and sacred to him, thanks to his undying love for
his mother — dead tliese five years!

At hist his cabriulet entered tlie vilhige wliicli bec^an at
the cross on tl»e hillock. I'he old cross was bent (h)\vn
and tlireatened to crumble awa}-. Polaiictzki remembered
the existence of this cross for its connection with a popn-
lar superstition. The cross marked the <^nave of an un-
known suicide found lKin;.;ing in the neighboring forest,
and was carefully avoided by tlu; i)easants. Beyond this
cross there came the first rows of liuts. All the inmates
were asleep, not a light was seen in the small square
windows. In the light of the moon with a background
of clear blue skies, the roofs of the low moss-covered
thatched huts looked now silver gray, then pale blue.
Some liuts were wliitewashed, and appeared a bright green.
Others half hidden in cherry oichards, or in forests of sun-
flowers, were scarcely disceinible in the shadow. Dogs
barked in the yards, but half-heartedly, lazily, as if echoing
the languid croaking of the frogs, the hoarse whistling of
the rail-birds, the cries of the bittern, and all other sounds
so plentiful on a summer night, which yet strengthen the
inii)ression of absolute quiet and stillness.

The cabriolet, moving slowly over the sand-covered
road, at last drove into a dark avenue, speckled here and
tliere by streaks of moonlight, stealing through the leaves
of the trees. At the end of this avenue night-guards were
lieard monotonously whistling to each other. A little
further on was seen the house of the owner. There was
still light in several of its windows. When the cabriolet
came thundering up to the porch, a servant ran out from
the back part of the house, Jissisting Polanetzki from the
carriage. At the same time the night-guard appjoached, and
with him two white dogs, — evidently quite young, which,
instead of barking, frisked at the stranger's feet, and in
other ways demonstrated their joy at his arrival. They
were finally sto[)ped by the whip of the guard. The
servant look Polanetzki's higgage from the top of the
cabriolet, and the latter fomid himself a few moiuents
later in the dining-room, where tea had been [)iepared.
Nothing had changed in this room since his last visit.
Near one of its walls stood a niasisive closet, above it on one

e for

3gan at
I down
inhered

I pOJJU-

an un-
forest,
nd tins
Inmates
square
[ground
covered
le blue.
,t green,
i of sun-
, Dogs
echoing
itling of
[• sounds
pheu the

covered
lere and
e leaves
ds were
A little
ere was
ahriolet
out from
roni the
hed, and
r, which,
t, and in

r. They
d. The
of the

nior.ients
|)i(;j, ared.
asl visit.
t on on©

side still liung a clock with heavy weiglits and a cuckoo ,*
on the other walls portraits of women in costumes of
the last century. A huge table covered with a snow white
cloth occupied the center of the loom. Withal the
dining-room, well lighted and filled with the steam of
the singing samovar, looked very old, very hospitable and

lome

■lik(

Polanetzki began to i)ace to and fro alongside tho
table, but the creaking of his shoes alone brenking the

reignnig silence, con

I fused

una surprised Jn

1 h

iin.

ap-

proached the window and looked out into the Aard, in
which the two white dogs rom[)ed and played, chasing and
falling over each other. Polanetzki did not contemplate
this scene very long, for the door of an adjacent room
suddenly o[)ened, and before him appeared a young girl,
whom he recognized as the daughter of Kremen's owner
by his second vcife. Polanetzki left the niche of the win-
dow, and walking with his creaking shoes to the table
bowed to tlie young girl and introduced himself.

The young lady held out her hand to liim.

" We knew of your coming by the telegram," slie said.
"Father is somewhat indisposed, and has tlierefore retired
early, but to-morrow morning he will be delighted to see
you."

" I am not to blame for my rather late arrival," replied
Polanetzki — *' The train is not due at Chernyov until
eleven o'clock."

*' Yes, and besides, tliere are two miles more to travel
from Chernyov to Kremen. Father told me that this is not
your first visit."

" I have been here twice with my mother, long before
you were born."

" I know it. Are you a relative of my father ? "

" No ; I am related to Pan Plavitzki's first wife."

*' My father highly values bonds of relationship, no
matter how distant the relation may ])e."

The conversation lacking fire, was brought to an abrupt
end. She began to pour out tea, dispersing the clouds of
vapor arising from the samovar. Silence again reigned
supreme in the dining-room, s(;arcely interrupted by the
ticking of the clock. Polanetzki, whom the fair sex in

l^eiioral interested immensely, began to scan Panna Pla-
vitzka. Slie was of medium size, very <;,'"raceful, liiid dark
wavy liair, a kintl, yet rather lit'elcss face, blue eyes and
beautiful red lips. It was the face of a woman, serene and
tender. And Polaiietzki, who found her "" (juite charm-
ing " if not very beautiful, thought that she may be very
kind indeed. 'I'hat there may be hidden rare qualities
behind those inexpiessive features, virtues possessed only
by villaL;o maids. Tliough he was young, Polanetzki had
been taught one useful lesson by life, lliat generally women
improve a great deal when known more intimately, while
men always lose more and more. He heard of Panna
Plavitzka, that the entire mana''ement of Kremen, almost
ruined, was in her hands. That she was the most indus-
trious creature on earth. Regardless of the heavy load on
her shoulders, she seemed to Pohiiietzki comparatively easy-
going and serene. She was evidently very sleepy, for her
eyes blinked incessantly at the light of the hanging lamp.
Of course, she would liave passed his examination with
much more credit to herself, had not the conversation been
so slow and commonplace. But tliis was natural at their
first meeting. Besides, she received the guest alone,
which, for a younggirl of less tact, might have been avery,
diiricult and unpleasant task. And, lastly, she knew quite
well that Polanetzki entered their house not as a guest,
but as a creditor. He came for money.

Years a^^o the mother of Polanetzki ofave Pan Plavitzki
twenty thousand roubles, taking a mortgage on the estate.
This sum Polanetzki was eager to collect. First, be-
cause Plavitzki was not prompt nor punctual in his pay-
ments of the interest ; and, second, because Polanetzki,
having become a partner of a mercantile firm in Warsaw,
engaged in \arious enterprises, was badly in need of the
money himself. He was determined to make no conces-
sions but demand his capital in full. In affairs of such
nature he always wished to remain stoical and firm in
his decision. By nature of a different temperament, he
created for himself out of this lirmness a sort of principle,
often going from one extreme to another, like so many
others that nurse an idea.

Thus even now gazing at this kind-faced sleepy maiden,

na Pla-
id dark
^•es and
^ne and

charm-
be very
ualities
L'd only
zki liad
women
% while

Panna
, almost
t indus-
load on
ly easy-
for her
g lamp,
m with
on been
at their

alone,

a very,
w quite

guest,

lavitzki
! estate,
rst, be-
lls pay-
metzki,
Warsaw,
of the
conces-
:)£ such
firm in
ent, he
incii)le,
many

iiaiden,

he fought the feeling of sympatliy awakening in his send,
and rc[)eatc(l to himself:

'' Everytliing is all riglit, my dear, but pay your del)ts
you 7nusf."'

Then after a slioi t pause, he added aloud :

*" I was told thai you manage the entire estate ; do you
really love housekee[)ing? "

*' I love Kremen very much," eviusively answered Panna
Plavitzka.

" And so did T, wlieu I was a mere boy, and yet I would
not wish to take care of itti affairs, the conditions are so
unfavorable."

'' Yes, very unfavorable. But we are doing all in our
power "

"That is, i/ou arc doing 't all?"

"I only assist my father who is very often ill."

"I don't claim to know mudi of such affairs, but from
all I observe, I should conclude that most of your farmers
cannot hope for a comfortal)le future,"

" Our hopes are with (iod."

" Yes, that is probable. But one cannot send his cred-
itors to Ilim I"

The face of Panna Plavitzka flushed crimson. An
unpleasant pause ensued.

Polanetzki meanwhile thought to himself: " Once Ih?-
gun, it must be ended."

" Will you permit me to explain the ol)jcctof my visit? "
said he in loud tones.

The young girl tur/ied her eyes to him, and in that look
Pohmetzki could read :

"You liave just arrived. Itis ver}^ late. T am scarcely
alive with fatigue. Mere politeness should have preven-
ted you from beginning such a conversation."

" I know wliy you came," replied she ; " but it were
much better that you speak to father about it."

** Very well. Pardon me."

" It is I who must ask your forgiveness. Everyman
has a right to demand his own, and I am accustomed to
such demands. But to-day is Saturday — there is always
plenty to do on Saturdays. At times when the Jews
come to us with their bills, I manage to g( t along with

1 1

them myself. Hut now I prefer to liave yon arrange it all
with father. It will l)e niinJi eusier for botli of us."

"Till to-moirow then I " said Pohmetzki, who lacked
the boldness to con fuss tliat in financial matters he pre-
ferred to he treated like a Jew.

''Won't you have some more tea?" asked the young
hostess.

'' No, thank you. Good-night ! "

Polanet/ki rose and extended liis hand. Tlie young girl
held out lier own, but in her action theie \vas less welcome
than at their first meeting. Polanetzki barely touched
her fingers.

"The servant v/ill show you your room," she said be-
fore dei)arting.

Polanetzki was left idone. He felt dissatisfied, although
he would not admit it, and tried to persuade himself that
he had acted wisely. " Had he come here for iiis money
or for indulijinf' in flatteries? What was Panna to
liim?" Neither good nor bad could ever accrue to hiui
from that quarter. If she considers him a brute, an im-
polite dunner, the better for him. It is always thus — the
more stubborn, tlie more obnoxious the creditor, the sooner
his claim is satisfied.

And yet this logical conclusion somehow failed to bring
him the expected ease of mind, and a certain inner voice
whispered to him tliat in this particular case there was no
question of his poor breeding, but it was a lack of sympathy
for a poor overworked woman. Besides he felt that act-
ing as he did, he api)eased his greed for money, but went
against his own heart and his inborn instincts. lie finally
became angered at Panna Plavitska, the more so that he
really began to like her. As in that slumbering little
handct, in that moonlight niglit, so in this i)hiin girl of the
woods he found something of Ins own, something he sought
in vain in the women he met abroad, and this " something "
excited him more than he anticipated. But men often feel
ashamed of their kind generous feelings. At first Polan-
etzki blushed inwardly for his unpardonable excitement,
wherefore he determined to remain stoical and mercWess
and press oldPlavitzka to the wall, giving him no quarter,
showing no mercy.

nge it all

f) lacked

J he i>ic-

le young

mnggirl

welcoiiKi

touched

said be-

illhouf^h
self that
s money
anna to
) to him
J, an ini-
lus — the
e sooner

to bring
er voice
was no
nipathy
lat act-
Lit went
finally
hat he
g little
1 of the
sought
thing"
ten feel
Polan-
enient,
erc<Hess
quarter,

The servant conducted him to his l)ed(haml)er. This
was the same room he had slt'pt in wlicnonthe visit with his
mother, during the life-time of PlavitzkiV lirst wife.
Floods of recollection swejjt over him in an instant.
The windows of this room opened in to the garden, be-
yond which there was a i)ond. The bright moon was re-
llected in the still clear waters of this pond, which was
now seen to better advantage. The old ash tree that con-
cealed it from view in former days had su('cnml)ed to the
storm, and in its place there was now a pitiful remnant —
a stump glistening in the mooidight. 'i'lic stumj), the
pond, and tlie garden, with not a (piiver of life in the
dark shady walks, all })ioduced an impression of absolute
quiet and rest. Pohuiet/.ki, accustomed to the constant
tunuilt and whirl of large cities, laboring under ph^'sical and
nervous strain, unwillingly felt the quiet ciYcct of the vil-
lage, like that felt by a man taking a warm bath after long
Jind tedious lal)ors. He felt a certain relief creeping into his
Houl. He tried to think of his business affairs, what turn
they would probably take under certain circumstances,
whether proliLable or not, tried to wonder over his relations
with his partner, Higel, but made a dismal failure. Instead
of all these the thought foremost in his mind was Panna
Plavitzka, who, although she made a favorable inq)res-
sion, was nothing to him as yet, it having been their first
meeting. Yet she interested him as a type. He was a
little over thirty, of an age when the human instinct mer-
cilessly forces the man to obtain and build his hearth, to
take a wife unto him, and c:jate a family. The most in-
tense pessimism is powerless face to faco with this instinct.
No axiom or any other dogmas of life can overcome it.
Thanks to this instinct many misanthropes many regard-
less of their philosophy, ai-tists, notwithstanding their art, as
all such people that claim to devote to their pet ideas and
professions their whole lives. Exceptions are few, and they
prove the axiom that the world cannot live a conventional
lie and go against the current of nature.

Polanetzki was neither a misanthrope, an artist, nor a
man propagating anti-matrimonial theories. On the con-
trary, he wished to marry, was convinced thr marry he
must, and feeling that his time had come, looked arouad

I '^

for a suitable woman. Tliis was tlie cause of that anxiety
and solicitude wliicli women aroused in him, espcciiiUy
young girls. Meeting in his path a young girl, his tirst
question to himself was :

" Is it she ? " or at least " Is it something like her? "

At this moment his thought circled round Panna Phi
vitzka. He had heard much about her from her relatives
living in Warsaw, and all reports were very flattering to
the young girl. Now her serene kind face was before his
eyes. He recalled her beautiful h:inds with long fingers,
lier dark blue e^-es, and even the black birth-marks over
her upper lip. Her voice, musical and caressing, enchanted
him. Thus it happened, that althougli he repeatedly
urged himself to show no lenienc}', to make no concession,
and receive his money in full, he was angry, nevertheless,
at himself, and at the fate that brought him to Kremen as
a creditor.

The cocks began to crow. The window-panes grew
pale, then green, and yet he continued to see, with his eyes
closed, the tender face of Panna Plavitzka, the biith-
ma.ks over lier upper lip, and her liands that [)oured out
the tea. Tlien, when sleej) began to rob his senses, it
seemed to him <^hat he held her hand and drew her to his
breast, while she resisted and turned away her pretty head,
as if wishing to evade his kiss.

The next morning he awoke late, and recalling Panna
Plavitzka, thought, " Ah, this is how she looks, the
charmer 1 "

^ , »••

at anxiety

esp{M'i;illy
1, his tirst

her?"
mna Pla
relatives
tteriiig to
jefOiC his
g fingers,
arks over
enchanted
epeatedly
3ncession,
ertheless,
a'emen as

nes grew
li his eyes
jtlie biith-
rod out
enses, it
er to his
ty liead,

g Panna
oks, the

, CHAPTER II.

PoLA^STETZKi was aroused by the entrance of the servant
who brought him liis morning coffee and took Ids garments
to be brushed.

When the servant returned with the same a few moments
later, PoLinetzki inquired :

*' Do not your master and mistress come ton-ether for
breakfast in tlie dininir-room ? "

*0,o," rfc[)lied tlie servant. " They do not, ])ecause the
young lady rises very early, while the old master siee[)3
late."

" Is the young lady up already ? "

" Slie has been to churcli this last hour."

"Oh ! yes. To-day is Sunday. But does she not ride
to church with the old master?"

" No, master rides to church for late mass, after which
he pays a visit to the deacon. The young lady prefers to
come home early."

*' Mow do 3our master and mistress spend their Sundays?"

" They spend them at home. For dinner tbcy always
have » visitor — Pan (xoutovski."

Polanetzki knew this Pan Goutovski from childliood.
In those days he nicknamed him '' Littk' liear," for (lou-
tovski was fat, clumsy and a grumbU'r. The servant
furtlier enliglitened Polanetzki tliat (ioutovski's father
had dii'd ilve years ago, and the young man managed liis
own affairs in Yabrijikow.

*' And he comes here regularly every Sunday?" further
queried Polanetzki.

"Sometimes also durincf week days, after sunscit.'

" A rival," thought Polanetzki, and after a sliort pause,
asked :

" Has the master been :ip long?"

'* I believe lie laiig tlie bell a while ago, for I saw Yozof
hasten to his chamber/'

»»

i,i

'*W]iois Yozef?

Flis valet.

" And s» lio are

you

»»

" I am only liis assistant."

'• Go and inquire liow soon I may present myself to
your master."

The servajit departed, but returned a moment later.

" Master wishes me to tell you that he will be delighted
to see you as soon as he is dressed."

'' Very well."

The servant left him. Polanetzki began to wait, or
rather to be bored. He waited long. At last his patience
reached its end, and in disgust he wished to leave his
room and take a peep at the garden. Just at that moment,
however, Yozef entered the room and announced that his
master invited the guest to his apartments. He conducted
Polanetzki through a long corridor into the bed-chamber
of Plavit/ki, situated at the other end of tlie house.
Polanetzki entered tlie room and at first failed to recognize
Plavitzki. lie remembered him as a handsome, strong
man. Now b(ifoie him ther*^ stood a man with a face
wrinkled as a baked apple, a face to which even the care-
fully dyed moustaches added little in the way of yruthful
charms. As the moustaches, so the black hair combed on
the side merely proved unsustained pretensions to a beauty
tliat was not there."

A' the sight of Polanetzki, Plavitzki opened his arms,
and exclaimed :

" Ah, Stach ! How are you, my dearest boy '. Come to
my arms ! "

I And i)()inting to his white vest, he pressed Polanetzki's

'iitsad to liis breast. Tliis embrace lasted long, too long for

Polancl^'-ki. At last Plavitzki said: ''Permit me to look

at you! Just like Anna! A true copy of Anna. My

poor, u\y (l^'ar Anna!"

And Plavitzki wept, or was supposed to do so, for lie
wi[)i'd witli his midcUe linger the eyelids of liis riglit eye
wliere teais, by the way, weie invisible, and repeated:
"A true co[)y of Ann.i ! Your mother, my lad, wa.-* al-
ways my best, my nuxst belov(!d relation."

Polanetzki stood, partly confused, partly puzzled with

(Tself to

iter,
alighted

wait, or
patience
lave liis
noiiient,
that his
nducted
chamber
house.
3COiri»iz6
, strong
I a face
lie care-
er uthful
nbed oix
\ beauty

is arms,

Come to

metzki's
louiT for
to look
ui. My

, for lie

hi eye

ipeated :

w ii.-> al-

the reception, which he no more expected tlian he di(' tlie
odor of {)owder and various perfumes, \\hieh came iiom
til' face, moustaches and vest of Plavitzki.

'•• How are you, uncle?" at last said i'olanetzki, think-
ing that tiic name by which lie called Plavitzki when a
I'll i Id would suit best his present solemn mood.

''How am I ?" repeated Plavitzki, 'Miot long shall I
bide in lliis world, not long! That is why my reception
is .so cordial, yo father-like; .Vnd if the blessing of a mau
with one foot in the grave, if the blessing of ihe oldest
member of the family will find aj)preeiation in your eyes,
I give it to you from the fulness ot" my heart."

''And, for thescond time cnibiaeing Pohuietzki's head,
he kissed it and made the sign of the cross over it. 'J'ho
countenance of the young man bore a still more puzzled
and worried expression. His mother was only a distant
relation and friend of Plavitzki's lirst wife. He, himself,
as far back as he could lemember, was never [lersonally
attached to the old man by either bonds of friendshiji or
relationship, and this solemn, elYnsive reception, to which
he unwillingly submitted, was highly disagieeable to liim.
At the same time the thought Hashed through his mind:
This old monkey instead of speaking about money

„^ x„ ... 1.: f-- ."i-i- 11,..: . '»

ii,

ed with

hopes to satisfy me with blessings

And a rage took possession of his soul, a just indigna-
tion (hat promised to be beneficial to him in clinging
stoically to his decision. Meanwhile Plavitzki resumed:

" I5e seated, my dearest, and make youjself comfortable,
be at home I "' '

Polanetzki sat down ana began :

T am deirghted at the op[)ortnnity to pay you a visit,
uncle. I should have done this sooner or later for pleas-
ure's sake, pure and sim[)le, I assure you— Hut you know,
uncle, that the real object of my coming here at present
is the little affair which my mollu'r "

But Plavitzki interrupted him, suddenly putting his
hand on his quest's knee.

'"Did you drink your colYee?" he asked, in the simplest
possible manner.

" I — I did," replied Polanetzki, fairly driven off his own
track.

-^"■'

1 .';(

" I make this inquiry because I^[arinya went to church
very early. Pardon nie also for not liaving- installed you
in my own room, but I am getting old and accustomed to
sleep here. I'liis is my nest "

He accentuated his words by making a sweeping
gesture with his hand around the room.

Iiivoluntaril}' Polonetzki followed him with his eyes.
In former days this room jiresented a great temi)tation to
him, for it was al)undantly decorated with all sorts of
weapons hanging on its walls. The oidy change in the
room his eyes could detect was the wall[)aper presenting
numberless squares, each containing a shepherdess dressed
a la Watteau, and angling in a stream. Near the win-
dow stood a toilet-stand covered with a white table-cloth,
on which there was, beside a mirror in a silver frame, a
multitude of various glasses, bottles, boxes, brushes,
combs, files for the nails, and what not. In sliort, this was
a room of an old bachelor and egotist, constantly burdened
with petty cares about his own comforts. Polaiietzki never
allowed himself to think for a moment that Plavitzki
would i)art with " his nest " for a single night.

"Did you sleep well?" continued the host.

" Thank you, quite well — got up too late."

"Of course, you are going to s[)end a week with us?"

Polanetzki, being inq)ulsive, sprang from liis chair.

" Don't you know that I have a busine; s in Warsaw, —
that I have a partner, who is now alone managing our
affairs? I would like to leave Kremen as soon as possible,
as soon, in fact, as I complete the arrangements which
brouiifht me hither."

"•No, my boy," replied Plavitzki, witli a certain cordif'l
authority. "To-day is Sunday. Besides, feelings of rela-
tionship are above all business arrangements. To-day I
received you as a relative, and to-moi row, if you wish,
you may come to me as a creditor. Yes, that's it. To-
day there came to me my Stacli, the son of my Anna I
Until to-mori()w it must be so, Stach. Thus speaks
your old relative, who dearly loves you, for whom you
must make this concession."

Polanetzki's face wrinkVid. However, he replied:

♦* Very well, then. We'll postpone it till to-morrow."

" Well said, my boy ! Now I recognize the son of my
Anna. Do you smoke a pipe ? "

"No, I only smoke cigarettes."

" Had, very bad ; but for guests I also keep cigarettes."

Further conversation was interrupted ))y the clatter of
horses' hoofs. Polanetzki looked through the open win-
dow and saw a maiden, dressed all in pink, with a wide
straw hat, getting out of a carriage.

''This is ]\Iaiinya coming home from early mass," said
Plavitzki, '* have you made her acquaintance ? "

'* Yes, sir, I liad that pleasure hist niglit."

" A dear child ! I need not tell you that I only live for
her."

At this moment the door opened, and a young voice
asked : " May T ? "

"Yes, certainly: Stacli is here!" answered Plavitzki.

Marinya quickly entered tlie room, her hat hanging by
the ribbons over her shoulders ; and embracing lier father,
gave Polanetzki lier little liand.

Dressed in a pink calico dress, she looked cliarming,
fresh and bright as the clear sunny morning, which gave
lier face an expression of vigor and energy. Her hair was
partly disheveled, her eheeks rivaled her [)ink dress in
color, her mouth breathed health and youth.

"To-day the ate mass will begin a little later than
usual," said she, addressing her father. '' 'J'he priest left
church after early mass for the mill to administer the last
sacraments to the dying Panna Syatkowska. She is very
low, they say. You have half-an-hour's more time, father.

" Very well," replied Plavitzki. "• You may utilize this
unexi)ected reprieve to form a nearer acquaintance with
Pan Pohmetzki. I tell 3'ou — a ti'ue copy of Anna. Hut
then you have never seen her. Kemember, Marinya, that
to-morrow he may be our creditor, but to-day — he is our
relative and guest."

"Splendid! I am delighted I " said the young girl,
"this means that we shall spend a merry Sunday to-
day."

" Last night you went to bed so late," remarked Pola-
netzki, "and this morning you took in early mass."

" Yes," gaily answered Marinya. " There were two of

us at early mass, myself and the cook. We both gain
thereby jjleiity of time to discuss tlie dinner."

" I have forgotten to deliver to you the sincerest regards
of Panni Emilya Cliavastovska."

" Thank you I 1 l»ave not seen her for two yeai-s, but
our corres})ondence is kept up with tlie old vigor. She
intends to leave for lieichenhall for the sake of her child,
I understand?"

'' Yes, when I left Warsaw she was almost ready to take
her departure."

" And how is her child ? "

"For her twelve years she lias grown more than is
good for her, but she is very a[)athetical. It seems to me
she is anything but well physically."

" Do you often visit Emilya?"

*'Yes. She is my only friend in Warsaw. Besides, I
love her dearly."

"Tell me, my boy," interposed Plavitzki, taking from
the toilet-stand a brand-new pair of gloves and tenderly
depositing them in his side-pocket, "what is your occu-
pation in Warsaw ? "

" I am, what they call, a speculator. I have established
in Warsaw a commercial firm together with another young
man, a certain Mr. Bigel. Our speculations are in grain,
sugar, forests, land — in a word, on whatever chance or
fate is kind enough to give us a tij)."

" I heard that you were an engineer."

" I have my specialty. But on my return from abroad
I could find no berth in a factory, and therefore plunged
into commerce. I know a thing or two about it myself,
and my partner is not a newcomer, either. But my real
specialty is that of dyer "

" Beg pardon. How did you say?"

" A dyer."

"Yes, times are such now that a man will do almost
anything," said Plavitzki with dignity. "Of course I will
not condemn you for it, as long as you preserve the noble
old traditions of our famil}^ ; trade, I hope, docs not dis-
grace the man."

Polanetzki, who had regained his good humor at the
sight of the young girl, felt liigiily amused by the words

of Phivitzki, lauglied liuartily, showing his strong, white
teelli, and said :

" Thank God ! I can't compLiin."

Maiinya, too, smiled and said :

" Eniilya thinks tlie world of you. She wrote to nie
that you conduct your affairs most brilliantly.'*

" Y — yes, one can exist. It's a little difficult to handle
the Jews, otlierwise, competition is always possible. But
even the Jews, if one does not publish anti-semitic mani-
festoes, but manages his business calmly and honestly,
will never press one to the wall. As to Panni Chavas-
tovska, I am afraid, she understands as much or as little
of business as her little Lida."

" You are right. She never has been practical. If it
were not for her brother-in-law, Theophuil Chavastovska,
she would have lost her entire estate. But Theophuil
adores Lida."

"Who does not love her? I myself am the first to
dance attendance. She is such a dear, handsome child.
I positively have a weakneiis for that little witch."

Marinya looked at his sincere, animated face and
thought :

*' He is probably a quick-tempered man, but a good soul
withal."

Meanwhile Plavitzki declared that it was time to go to
church, and benan to take leave of Marinva. It took him
as long as if he were undertaking a journey of several
months' duration. At length he made over her the sign
of the cross and took his hat. Marinya shook Polanetzki's
hand with more warmth than at her first meeting. Pola-
netzki sitting in the carriage beside the old man, and
listening to his chatter, thought :

** Very, very handsome ! A very sympathetic girl ! '*

Having passed the avenue, over wliieh Polanetzki rode
the night before, the carriage I'eached a higliwa}', partly
shaded with old, half-rotten trees, symmetrically planted
on its edge. On one side of the road there ran before
their eyes a green potato field, on the other a corn field,
with the ripe, tall ears as if slumbering l)eneath the lays
of the sun. In the distance were seen peasant girls in
their bright colored Suialay dresses, with red kerchiefs

round their necks, walking slowly along the paths among
tlie grain, seeming like big crowns of blooming poppies.

*' Lovely corn I " remarked Polanetzki.

" Not bad. We are doing all in our power; for the
rest we rely on Him. You are young yet, my dearest,
therefore I take the lil^erly to give you advice, which in
days to come will surely be of great use to you — do any-
thing and everything you possibly can ; the rest leave to
God. He knows best what we need. The crop this year
will be immense, and I knew it before, for — whenever God
wishes to try me, he sends an evil omen beforehand."

"What is that?" asked Polanetzki in astonishment.

" From under the pi[)es — smoking pipes in my room —
I know not whether you have seen where they stand — on al-
most every occasion, when something of importance is
about to occur, a little mouse comes out, appearing for
several days in succession."

*' There mmt be a hole somewhere in the room?"

"No," said Plavitzki, mysteriously closing his eyes.

" Why don't you put a cat near the spot in the
room r

"What for? If such is the will of God the mouse is
surely a warning to me, and I dare not go against His
will. ]jut this year the mouse has not made its appear-
ance. I have discussed it already with Marinya. Per-
haps the good Lord wishes to convince us tliat He is
watching over us. I know what people say about us.
That we are ruined, or at least that our affairs need
mending. But you judge for ^-ourself : Kremen, together
with the other hamlets, Skoki, Magyerovka, andSuhotsin,
have an acreage worth 750,000 roubles. There is about
30,000 roubles due on the land to the com})any, and al)Out
a hundred thousand more in the way of private mort-
gages. Let's say a total of 130,000 roubles, which will
make together the round sum of 850,000 roubles."

"How do you come to this conclusion?" interrupted
Polanetzki. " You add your debts to the value of your
Lmd?"

" Had my land been valueless no one would have ad-
vanced a grosh q;i it, would they? That^ is why I make
this addition."

;

among
oppies.

'or the

learest,
lich ill
lo aiiy-
eave to
lis year
er God
[."

!llt.

room —
—on al-
mce is
ing for

»»

yes.
in the

onse IS

St His

appear-

Pei-

Tle is

3Ut US.

need
)gether
ihotsin,
about
I about

niort-
ch will

•rupted
)f your

ive ad-
; make

*' He's crazy ! " thought Polanetzki ; " conversation with
him is a waste of time."

" Magyerovka I will sell to the peasants in parts/'
continued Plavitzki. ''The mill shall l)e sold to the
liio-hest bidder. In Skoki and Suhotsin there is a rich
lay of mergel (mica) — do you know of what enormous
value? Fully two million roubles."

''Of course you have been offered that sum. Who is
the i)urchaser?"

" Two years ago there c^nie to me a certain speculator
and exannned the fields. True, he departed, not closing
the deal, but I am almost i)Ositive he will return; other-
wise, the little mouse would not fail to show up from
under the pii)es, would it now? All, ... of course.
Let him return. Do you know what ha[)[)y idea just
struck me? You are a speculator yourself, are you not?
Take this veritable gold mine into your hands, iind capi-
tal, organize a company "

"Chasing the rainbow is not in my line."

'*Find me a buyer, then, and ten per cent of the entire
amount shall be your reward."

"What does ]\Iarinya think of this I'ich deposit?"

" What is Mftrinya ? A dear jewel of a child, but — a child !
She, too, believes that God's mercy will not abandon us."

" Yes, I heard her express the same words last niglit."

Thus conversing, the old man warming up more and
more, his guest answering in syllables, they reached the
church, situated on an eminence, surrounded by trees.
Below, at the foot of the hill, there were lined in a row
the hund)le wagons of the peasants and t]»e more preten-
tious vehicles of the gentry. Plavitzki made the sign of
the cross. "This is our church, which you, no doubt, re-
member. All the Phivitzkis are buried in its yard. Soon
I, too, shall find eternal rest here. In no other place do I
pray as fervently as in this old, moss-grown church."

" It seems to be crowded," remaiked Polanetzki. " Yes,
here is the sulky of Goutovski, the carriages of Zazimski
Yamish, and many others. I presume you remend)er the
Yamishes. Slu; is a wonderful woman, whih; he claims to
be a successful farmer, but in reality a capital fool who
never understood his wile."

At tliat moment the bells of tlie church began to pom
into the still, fragrant air their rich, vibrating sounds.

" Evidently our arrival was noticed," said Plavitzki —
" the Liturgy will begin at once. After mass 1 will take
you to the grave of my first wife ; pray for her . . .
Slie was your aunt. A remarkable woman she was, peace
to her soul I "

Plavitzki raised his hand to wipe a tear that was slow
x:i coming, while Polanetzki, in order to distract the old
man from his solemn mood, asked:

"And Panni Yamish, 1 believe, was a great beauty in
those days, was she not? Is this the same?"

The countenanei! of Plavitzki cleared up instantly. He
projected the end of his tongue, and slapping Polanetzki's
shoulder, replied:

"Ah, my boy, she is worth going after, even now — 'pon
my soul, she is worth it."

They entei-ed the churcli through the vestiy rooms, to
avoid being jostled by the crowd.

Plavitzki occupied a bench next to the Yamishes. Panni
Yamish looked very old, with an intelligent but ener-
vated face, that bore the stamp of some gieat suffering.
She was a woman of about sixty years, dressed in calico,
like Marinya, a straw hat gracing her still majestic head.
The polite bow of Plavitzki and her friendly smiles left
no room for doubt that between these two people that
have seen better days there still existed a relation of mu-
tual respect and admiration. The lady produced from
somewhere a pair of opera-glasses and began to examine
minutely the face and form of Polanetzki, evidently at sea
about his identity.

On a bench behind them one of the neighboring farm-
ers, taking advantage of the delay in the service, put the
finishing touches to a spicy hunting j^arn, saying in a
semi-whisper: "My hounds are great hunters; indeed
they are." After which declaration he began an animated
debate with his neighbor about Pan Plavitzki and Panni
Yamish in tones so loud that Polanetzki could hear every
word.

At length the service began. At the sight of that pray-
ing congregation and that old chuich Polanetzki mentally

to pout
ids.
itzki —
ill take

• • •

}, peace

IS slow
Llie old

auty in

ly. He
letzki's

' — 'pon

3ms, to

Panni
t ener-
leiing.
calico,
i head,
es left
e that
of mu-
1 from
camiiie
T at sea

farm-
lit the
g in a
indeed
imated
Panni

every

t pray-
ji I tally

made a lightning trip bac^k to the days of liis childhood,
when, awe-inspired, he had sat beside his mother, and un-
willingly he marveled at the evident fact that so little
had changed in the village, where only men come and go,
hut everyLhing else remains the same. Some people are
Imried in the cemeteries they have helped to build, others
take their place, but the new life gradually assumes the
old shape and form, and to him who visits the village
after an absence of many years everything seems un-
touched, unaltered, by Father Time, in the sa**ie position
as he left it on the day of his departure. The same old
church, the same crowd of peasants, blonde-haired and
cheerful, the men in g\\\y coats and top-boots, just dipped
in tar, the girls in red kerchiefs, \\\Ca wreaths of flowers
on their golden heads. Near one of the windows grew
the same old birch tree, which covered the window and
iilled the church with a greenish light. Only the peoi)le
were apparently not the same. A part of those he knew
in former days had gone to a better world, and their
graves were a mass of green grass and fragrant flowers,
others were bent down as if looking to mother earth for
eternal rest.

Polanetzki who loved to brag that he always evaded all
discussions and observations of the masses, now left to
himself and his thoughts, unwillingly began to study the
interesting faces and types around him, and incidentally
j)()n(ler over the question, what an abyss lay between the
in-l)orn natural j)iission for life at any price, and the ne-
ci;ssity to die. He thought that was probal)ly the cause
wliy all philoso[)hical systems pass into oblivion, like
si widows, and only early and late masses are held in the
same old way, alone promising an incessant, continuous
existence.

Having been brought up abroad, he was not a stanch
believer, at least he lacked tlie faith that asks no ques-
tions, the faith that is blind. He felt, like almost
all intelligent men of our day, a strong loathing for
materialism, yet he could lind no remedy for it, or ratlier
he (li<l not seek any. Tb; was a pessimist, pure and simple,
but did not base his theories on scientific deductions. He
was one of those that are longing for something, they know

not what, and cannot find it. He intoxicated himself with
pliysical labor, to which he became accustomed more and
more, but at the moments of severe attacks of pessimism
lie put tlie question to himself, '^ What is all this for? wljy
ibis useless hoarding of money, these incessant lal)ors to
obtain lands, to marry, to raise a family, if everything, if
all this must finally end in death?" But such attacks
were very rare, and their effects were soon forgotten. He
was saved by his vigorous youth, by a certain physical
and mental strength, a self-preserving instinct, a vitality
of character, and finally by that elementary power that
I)ushes a man into the arms of a woman. Thus, passing
IVom reminiscences of his childhood to the grim thoughts
of death, from the doubts in the felicity of married life, to
the thought of what there was best and noblest in him,
which was lost to the world for the want of a loving soul,
he finally came to think of Marinya Plavitzka, whose
pink dress, covering a lithe-like and graceful body, did
not leave his brain for a moment. He remembered that
on leaving Warsaw lie was told by his friend Emilya
Chavastovska :

" H you, being in Kremen, will neglect to fall in love
with Marinya, 1 shall close my doors before your nose, on
your return."

He replied that his object in making the trip Avas merely
to press Plavitzki to the wall and get as much money out
of the operation as possible, but no lovemaking was in
his program.

But that was not true. Had there been no young girl
of rei)Uted charm in Kremen, he would have brought
Plavitzki to terms by means of letters, or through the
court. She occupied his thoughts during the whole length
of the journey. Her looks, her character puzzled and in-
terested him, and more than once he was angry at himself
that his otherwise i)leasant trip was marred by his obnox-
ious task of collecting money. Urging himself to remiun
firm, he decided to get his own, first of all, ready to go to
any lengths for its sake. He clung to this decision tlie
first night, when Marinya failed to make the impression
lie anticipated. But this morning her severe simple
beauty caught his eye.

If with
re ;in«l
jimism
?Nvhy
)ors to
ling, if
ittiicks
1. He
lysiciil
'itality
L*r that
)assiiig
oughts
life, to
11 liiin,
g soul,
whose
ly, did
id that
Eniilya

in love
ose, on

merely
ey out
^vas in

g girl

ought

tr\i the

length

ind in-

iinself

)blH)X-

emain
) go to
on tlie

ess ion
simple

"She is beautiful as the morning," repeated he to him-
srlf — and she is fully conscious of it. . . woman always
know when thoy are beautiful I ..."

'I'liis last discovery made him impatient, and he was
anxious to return to Kreraen, to continue his observations
of women in general, in the shape of that sample he found
there. At last the service was at an end. Plavitzki
left the church at onee, having two duties to perform :
first, to pray over the graves of his two wives, who lay
snugly and quietly amid a sea of green grass ; and second,
to conduct Panni Yamish to her carriage. lie had no
desire to miss either one of these functions, and con-
sequently, took time by the forelock. Polanetzki followed
him and soon tliev were at the tombstones near the church
wall. Plavitzki knelt down, murmured a silent prayer,
rose, wiped away a few imaginary tears, and taking Pola-
netzki's arm, said :

*' Y-e-s, my boy, both are dead, I alone must drag along."

In the meantime, Panni Yamish accoTupanied by her
husband walked majestically out from the church and
down the hill. Behind them marched the two rieighbors
tint indulged in such uncharitable conversation, at her
expense, and Pan Goutovski.

Plavitzki bent to Polanetzki's ear and whispered :
When she enters her carriage, notice what a lovely ankle,
what a charming little foot she has ! " A moment later
tliey joined the small group. Plavitzka introduced Pola-
netzki in due form, and turning to Yamish, added with
the smile of a man about to say a very witty thing :

" This is my relative. . . . He came here to press my
hand, . . . and press me to the wall. . . ."

" We will gladly permit him to do the first, but as for
the second he'll have to face us," replied Panni Yamish.

" Rut Kremen (in Russian, Kremen means a sort of rock)
is a hard stone, and although my relative is young, he may
be in danger of breaking his teeth upon it."

Panni Yamish blinked her eyes.

*' With what ease," said she, " you fire away your spark-
ling bon mots to-day! . . . (Test inoul! — How is your
health ? "

*' At this moment I feel healthy and young."

" And Marinya ? "

*' Slie was here at early mass. We are expecting you
at five. My young hostess is now busy with the dinner."

" Very well, we will not disappoint you if my neuralgia
will permit me . . . also, the master, my husband. . . ."

'* How about it, neighbor?" inquired Plavitzki.

"I'm highly honored, I'm sure. With pleasure ! " re-
plied with apathy, Pan Yamish.

'* In such case, au revoir ! "

" Jl?^ r^^yoiV.'" answered the lady, and, turning to Po-
lanetzki, she shook hands with him.

" I am delighted to make your acquaintance," said
she.

Plavitzki offered her his arm and led her to the carriage.
The two pious neighbors had taken leave of each other
and departed. Polanetzki remained for a moment in the
company of Goutovski, who looked at him with ill-concealed
displeasure. Polanetzki remembered liim a clumsy, awk-
ward boy. That grumbling "Little P>ear" had developed
into a strong, large-proportioned, heavily built man, rather
handsome than otherwise, with a light mustache. Pola-
netzki was not disjtosed to break the silence, expecting
Goutovski to supply a theme for coiiversatioii, but the
latter, his hands in his pockets, stood motionless and silent,
as if planted in the earth.

"The same old Uianners," thought Polanetzki, and
turned his head {iway in disgust.

In the meantime Plavitzki returned from his gallant
mission and asked Polanetzki: " Did you notice? Wliat
a marvel of a little foot ! "

" Well, Goutovski," added he, turning to the latter,
"there is no room for you to-day in my carriage, there oi)ly
being two seats."

" Yes. I shall come in my own. I am bringing a dog
for Marinya," answered the young man, and, nodding his
head, went to his sulky.

A minute later Plavitzki and Polanetzki were on their
homeward trip to Kremen.

" This Goutovski, it seems to me, is also one of your
numerous relations."

"A very distant one. The family has been growing

;ting you

dinner."

leuralgia

id "

re ! " re-

j to Po-

>e," said

carnage.
)li other
it in the
oncealed
isy, awk-
aveloped
11, r.'ither
Pola-
K;pecting
but the
d silent,

:ki, and

gallant
Wiiat

hitter,
ere only

^ a dog
ing his

)n their

~>f your

rowing

poorer and poorer for the last three decades. All the
earthly possessions of this Adolph consist of a diminutive
imitation of a village, and freezing emptiness of purse."

"But his heart must be full."

Plavitzki shrugged his shoulders.

" So much the worse for him if his dreams carry him
too far," he said. " He may be a good and honest man, but
he is slow and stupid. No education, no knowledge of
worldly affairs, no estates. But Marinya likes him, or
rather endure^- him."

" Ah, she endures him ? "

" You see, it's this way : I sacrifice myself for her by
burying myself in this wilderness ; she does the same for
me and clings to the village. The country around here is
wild a»"d uninteresting. Panni Yamish — a jewel of a
woman — is too old for her. There is a woful lack of
young folks, and our life is a monotonous, tedious exist-
ence. But what would you do ? Remember, my boy,
that life at best is a chain of self-sacrifices. This principle
one must bear with him in his heart as well as in his
mind, especially those who belong to the more honest and
noble families. Goutovski dines with us every Sunday,
and to-day, as you have heard, he is bringing a dog for
Marinya."

Both grew silent, and the carriage slowly rolled over
the sandy road. Behind them in his sulky rode Goutovski,
who, thinking of Polanetzki, repeated to himself: "If he
came to ruin them, as a creditor, I will break his neck,
and if, as a rival for Marinya's hand, PU do the same."

Goutovski from the eai'ly days of his childhood feared
and hated Polanetzki for his sarcastic remarks, his airs of
superiority, and his blows. Polanetzki was two years
older and a fighter.

At last, after ten minutes' silent ride, they reached
Kremen, and half an hour later, all assembled in the dining-
room. The young dog, brouglit by Goutovski, taking ad-
vantage of ids privileges as a guest, loip.ped und(;r the
table', put his paws on the knees of the diners, and joy-
ously wagged his tail.

'' This is a Gordon setter," remarked Goutovski." " He
is very young yet and foolish, but generally these dogs are

briglit and clever, and very niueli attaclied to their mas-
ters."

" Yes, it's a good dog, no doubt, for wliicli I am lieartily
tliankful to you," said tlie young girl, looking at tlie shining
skin of the dog and the yellow circles over liis eyes.

"Too good !" grumbled Plavitzki, covering his krees
with a napkin.

''In the field the}' are better than the ordinary setters."

" Are you, too, fond of hunting ? " asked Polanetzki,
addressing Marinya.

" No, I am not game," said she with a smile. " and
you ? "

" I do hunt, but very seldom. I live in a city, you
now.

*' Are you a society man ?" asked Plavitzki.

*' Not much. I make very few calls, and receive no one.
Exceptio'is are Painii 'Chavastovska, my partner Bigel,
and Vaskovski, my loiiner teacher, wlio has become very
eccentric of lale — and no others. Of course my business
transactions oi^casionally bring me into various otlier
circles, buttliis is^i rare occurrence."

*'This is bad, my boy. A young man must preserve
good relationshi}) with people of note, especially if lie be
gifted with all qualifications therefor. Wlioever finds no
attraction in society need not bother ; but you, a Pola-
netzki, must keep in toncli with everything. I have liad
the same trou])le with Marinva. Two vears a^o, on her
eighteenth birthda}-, I took her to Warsaw. You know
that such bringing-out undertakings are planned with
certain obiects in view, and it cost me manv a little
sacrifice. I^ut wliat was the result? The whole day long
she spent with Emilya Chavastovska, reading books. She
lit>s been boi-n wild, and, Vm afraid, will remain so till her
days are ended: you may shake hands on that."

*• Let's shake hands, then," exclaimed Polanetzki, good
humoredly.

" Unfortunately T can't," answered Marinya, laughing,
** because pa])a is wrong. It's true I read VH)oks witli
Emilia, but I also accompanied him to many a society
afi:'aii', and danced enough to last me a lifetime."

" Don't swear off."

\\\

thl

at
so

leir mas-

lieartily
13 sliinijig
es.
is krees

setters."
lanetzki,

le. "and

ity, you

! i',o one.
r Bigel,
nie very
business
s otlier

)reserve
if lie be
nds no
Pola-
ve Iiad
on her
know
with
little
ly long
She
ill her

i, good

gliing,
with
lociety

" I don't. I merely claim that this life suits me very

well."

" Evidently you have carried away with you into ' the
wilderness ' no pleasant recollections."

"Probably. I only remember — but that is another
thing."

" I do not understand this."

" Memory, is a store-house, in which, like in a safe,
the past is deposited, while reminiscences appear oidy
at rare intervals, when you enter that storehouse to take
something."

Having finished her little explanation, Marinya was
surprised at the boldness with which she tackled philosoph-
ical discussion about the difference between memory and
reminiscences, and blushed perceptibly.

Polanetzki, in the meantime, not the less astonished,
thought :

" Beautiful and clever ..." then he added aloud,
"This definiti(5n had never entered my mind. It is
very apt indeed."

And he gazed at her witli eyes full of sympathy. She
was, indeed, beautiful. Smiling, and somewhat confused
by his praise, she looked a picture of ha})py youth. But
she blushed still more when Polonetzki added : " To-
morrow, before my departure, I will ask you for some
room. ... if even in your storehouse."

He said it in such a spirit that no offensive construc-
tion could be given his words, and Marinya, not without
some coquetiy re[)lied : " Granted, but it must be a mutual
arrangement. ..."

** In such event I shall have to visit very often my
storehouse, and I prefer to take up my residence there
altogetl'.er."

Tliese words seemed to the young girl too bold for an
acquaintance of sucli I'ccent date. But before she could
compos(; lier thoughts for an answer, Plavitzki interfen;d.

" I like Polanetzki!" exelaimed he, " and prefer him to
Goutovski, who sits silent, like a clam."

" Because I only speak of matters of importance, and
tilings I can master," sadly answered the young man.

"Polanel/-ki smiled. Marinya seemed to pity Gou-

tovski, for she suddenly turned the conversation to the
discussion of ** things he could master."

" She is either a coquette or a girl with an angelic
nature," thought Polanetzki.

The awkward })ause was broken by Plavitzki, who,
passing fiom one subject to anotlier with lightning
rapiditjs asked Polanetzki :

*' Do you know Bukatzki ?"

" Naturally. He is a nearer relation to me tlian your-
self."

"Our relations number legions, and are scattered the
whole world over. Bukatzki was Maiinya's most devoted
dancing partner : he was at her side on almost all such
occasions."

Polanetzki laughed again :

"And as a rewai'd, he was sent to her store-house, to
wallow in dust. But Bukatzki feais no dust. He is the
most elegantly-dressed man in Warsaw. Just like you,
uncle. And what is occupying his great mind ? He
analyzes the i)ure fresh air. In fact he is analyzing every-
thing and everybody. Notliing escapes his scrutinizing
obseivRtions. He is an original, wliose head is divided
and subdivided into various cells and closets. These
closets are filled to suffocation with observations and
minute studies of things no one else would take the slight-
est interest in. Once, on his return from Venice, I met
Bukatzki and questioned him about the wonders he had
seen in Italy. Tliis was his curious reply: ' On the Riva
dei Scliiavoni (a river near Venice) I saw one fine morn-
ing half of an egg shell, and luilf of a lemon rind floating
side by side. They came together, were driven apart ; to^^sod
by the waves, again approached each other, when, sudd(!nly
the driod half of a lemon jumped into the half shell of
the egg, and floated down the river, carried by the swift
current. That is harmony.' You see, such pioblems fill
the brain of Bukatzki, though he knows quite consid.-
erable .... about line arts, for instance." '

*' They say he is a very able chap."

'' May be, but his abilities have never been utilized.
He is eating bread, and doing little else. Had he been a
man of gay disposition, but he is positively a melancholic.

est

>n to the
ti angelic

ski, who,
lightning

lan your-

tered the

b devoted

all such

house, to
He is the
ike you,
d? He
ig eveiy-
itinizing
divided
Theae
3ns and
e slin^ht-
e, I met
he liiid
he Riva
morn-
floating
; tos^;ed
iddenly
shell of
e swift
ems fill
consid-

tilized.
been a
luholic.

f forgot to mention that at present he is in love with
Emilya Chavastovska."

" Is Emilya visited by man}''?"

" Hardly. I visit her, and Vaskovski, Bukatzki, and
Mashko, the lawyer, wlio is always buying and selling
estates are her only visitors "

'*■ She pi'obably is not in a position to keep open liouse,
as her whole life is devoted to the nursing of her Lida."

"Poor child I" said Polanetzki. "Let us liope that
Reichenhall will be beneficial to her." And the beaming
fiice of Polanetzki ])ecame clouded with sincere grief.
Now it was iNIarinya's turn to look at him with sympathetic
eyes, and for the second time she thought:

" He must, indeed, be a very kind man ! "

In the meantime Plavitzki communed with liimself:
"Mashko — Mashko I " lie murmured, "it must be the
same that courted Marinya, but she had no love for him.
As to estates, their prices have fallen so low, may God
have mercy on us!"

At last dinner was over and coffee was served in the
main reception-room. Plavitzki flavored his coffee with
jokes at Goutovski's expense, an occupation he loved to
follow when in particularly good humor. The young man
bore his slights patiently, but with such an expression on
liis immobile face, which seemed to say: " 'J'hank your
lucky stars that you are the father of ^lariiiya, or not a
bone in your body would I leave unbroken."

After coffee, Marinya took her seat at the antiquated
])i!\no, while her father busied himself with his caids.
Marinya did not play very Avell, Imt her serene quiet face,
iixed intently on the notes, as if inspired with their stir-
ring lines, attracted Polanetzki more than anything else.
About five o'clock Plavitzki looked at his watch and
remarked :

" The Yamislies are not coming."

" They will be here soon," replied Marinya.

But from that instant he kept up .an incessant vigil
over his watch, as if counting" the minutes, the seconds,
and repeating the news, that the Varnishes were not
coming. Finally, al'out six o'clock he said in a sepulchral
voice : " Something must have happened I "

Polanetzki stood at the side of Marinya, wrapped in his
own tlioughts, when she whispered to liim : " There, we
are in trouble again ! I am almost sure nothing serious
has happened to them, yet papa will torture himself and
others the whole evening."

" Why not send some one to investigate. It is not a
great distance from here, if I remember well.'*

" Shall I send some one to the Yamishes', papa ? "

*' Never mind, dear, I am going myself," replied Pla-
vitzki, and rang tlie bell. A servant entered to whom
he gave his orders. Then he halted, pondered a few mo-
ments, wrinkling his brow, and finally said : " It may
happen that some one might call and find only my
daughter .... this is not a city. Besides, you are rela-
tions .... You, Goutovski, may be of use to me, will
you kindly come along ? "

Goutovski's face plainly showed his dissatisfaction.
He passed his hand over his head, and said: "At the pond
there is a boat which the gardener cannot push into the
water, and I promised Marinya to do it last Sunday, but
she forbade me. Tlie weather was miserable, rain was
pouring in torrents."

" The pond is not more than thirty yards away from the
house. Go, move the boat and return immediatelv."

Goutovski left the liouse and went into the garden. In
the meantime Plavitzki paying no attention to either Ma-
rinya or Polonetzki, paced tlie room to and fro, repeating :
"It must be neuralgia, nothing less. In case of necessity
Goutovski may go for the doctor. That ' minister with-
out an ollice ' has surely neglected to send for one."

And, a[)parently, longing to make some one the target of
his wratli, he turned to Polanetzki, and added : " You cannot
imagine wliat an abominable fool he is ! "

"Wlio?"

" Yamish!"

" But, Papa .... began Marinya."

Her father, however growing more and more excited,
and interrupting Mai inyii, continued : " I know tliat 3'ou
do not like her way of proving iier sympathy and friendship
for mo. But to tiiis I liave butone reply: You may read
all you want, the deep pliilosophical treatise of Paa

)ed in his
^'here, we
y serious
nself and

: is not a

lied Pla«
to whom
few mo-
' It may
only my
are rela-
me, will

sfaction.
he pond
into the
day, but
•a in was

om the

V."

en. In
ler Ma-
eating :
ecessity
r with-

arget of
cannot

xcited,
it you
ndship
ly read
If Pan

Yaraisli her husband on matters pertaining to the manage-
ment of farms, but allow me to have my sympathies."

At that moment Polanetzki had tlie best opportunity to
convince himself of the extreme kindness of Marinya, who
instead of fri'owincf indicfnant, ran toward lier fither, em-
l)niced and kissed him, '• In a moment. Papa dear, tlie
liorse will be ready immediately. Do you wish me to go
with you ? I will if you do, but do not lose your good
humor it does you no good."

Plavitzki, who sincerely loved his daughter, kissed her
forehead and said : " I know you possess a golden heart,
but what is Goutovski doing there so long?"

lie went to the open door, calling the young man, who
soon returned, utterly exhausted, and said : *' the boat,
which is full of water, is too far from the pond, and I
could not move it."

" Take your hat, then, and come — the carriage is at the
front."

A moment later Polanetzki and Marinya were left alone.
/' Papa is accustomed to a more refmed society than one
meets in the village," said Marinya after a short pause,
" and that is why he is so fond of Panni Yamish ; but
Pan Yamish her husband is also very kind and thought-
ful."

" I saw him in church this forenoon. He seemed to me
terrified, and beaten into submission and silence by some
superior force."

'' lie really is a sick man, a man who labored more than
was good for him."

'^ Like yourself ? "

" Oh, no. Pan Yamish splendidly manages his estates,
and finds time to contribute to f.irming magazines. He is
truly the pride of our country, and such a scrupulous
honest man ! She is also a very good woman, but a little
too elegant for me."

" An ex-beauty, with pretensions."

*' Yes. These preiensions are intensified by her constant
life in the village, wliere slie is actually rusting. It
seems that in large cities such eccentricities and comical
features in the characters of men and women disappear,
are lost sight of, in the jostling of crowds; but, in a village

i ■:- i

fiu?h people more easily become originals, cranks, if you
prefer it. Little by little, such types lose all attractions
for society, they cling to some antiquated ultra- conven-
tional mode of treating people, and, finally, become prudish.
However, I think, that we all must seem to you comical
and rusty in our village swamps."

''On the contrary, not all. For instance — you."

" My turn will come," said the young girl, laughing.

" Yes, time changes everything ! "

" We change very little here, and whenever we do, it is
for the worse."

" But in the eventful lives of young girls, changes are
always expected."

" First of all we must establish some sort of order in
Kremen — my father."

" It seems that Kremen and your father — these are the
two goals of your life."

"Yes. But I can help neither. I know so little."

" Father, Kremen, and nothing more," repeated Pola-
iibvzki.

A pause ensued, which Marinya finally broke by asking
Polanetzki whether he cared to go out into the garden.
They went out, and soon found themselves on the bank of
the pond. Polanetzki who belonged, when abroad, to a
number of athletic clubs, pushed the boat (which Goutov-
ski could not move), into the water, without much diffi-
culty. But it was found to be leaking and useless.

" There you have the first exciinple of my managing the
estate," said Marinya laughing. In everything and every-
where, water is coming through, and I don't know how to
justify myself, for the garden and the pond are both
my territory. However, I must see that the boat is re-
paired."

"Is this not the same row-boat, in which I was forbidden
to take a sail, when a lad ? "

" Very possibly. Have you ever noticed that unani-
mated things live longer and change less than men ? It
is a very sad thought."

" Let us hope that we shall live longer than this old re .7-
boat, all moss-covered and water-soaked like a sponge.
But if it is the same old boat, I must admit that I am any-

I thil
I of

aiul
till'
tliel

,'01

I turi

as 1

iks, if you
ittractions
la-coiiven-
le prudish,
u comical

»»

)U.

jghiiig.

^e do, it is

langes are

I order in

se are the

ttle."
ted Pola-

iby asking
e garden,
le bank of
3ad, to a
I Goutov-
uch diflS-

5SS.

Lging the
md every-
V how to
are both
^t is re-

)rbidden

unani-
len? It

)ld re .7-

|sponge.

im any-

thing but lucky in regard to it. Years ago I was forbid-
den to use it, and now I have lacerated my hand on one
of its rusty nails."

Polanetzki took out a handkercliief from liis pocket
and witii his left liaiid began to b.iiulage tlie wounded
fuiger, but it was being done so clumsily, that Marinya, at
the sight of it, said :

" r don't think you can do it yourself. Let me help
vou."

And she began to bandage his hand which he purposely
turned around time and again to hinder her work, and also
because he was thrilled by tlie tender touch of her fingers.
She noticed that lie purposely made her task more difficult,
and glanced at liim stealthily. Put their eyes met. She
understood why he did it, blushed crimson, and bent down
as if to pay more attention to her work. Polanetzki felt
the proximity of her body, breathing a fascinating warmth,
and his heart began to beat quicker and faster."

*' I have had very pleasant recollections of my old-time
vacations spent here," said he to break the awkward pause,
"but now I shall carry away with me still better ones.
You nro so kind, and like a rare flower that was planted
and forgotten in this Kremen. Indeed, I don't exag-
gerate."

Marinya understood that Polanetzki spoke earnestly,
sincerely, though perhaps boldly, which was due more to
his tem[)er, than to the fact that they were left alone. She
was not insulted, but jokingly reproached him with her
soft musical voice :

" Please," said she, " cease your flattering, for I will
either make a botch of the baiidao-ino- oi* ]iin awav."

"Tic the fmger up the best you can, but pray, do not
leave me. The evening is so lovely."

Marinya finished her woik, and they walked on in
silence. The evenino* was reallv a wonderful one. The
sun was setting. The pond, undisturljcd, unrnnicd by the
slight(.'st breeze, looked now like a niiiss of gold, then like
a mass of fire. Beyond the pond the old oak-trees monot-
onously swayed their green heads. Amongst them, now
singly, now in a chorus, the numerous birds chirruped

their

evenuig songs.

" Kremen is beautiful, very beautiful ! " repeated Polo'
netzki.

" Yes, very ! " sadly echoed Marinya.

" I understand your attachment, your love for the place,
into wliich you put so mucli Libor. I can also perceive
now, liowone can liave, even in such a wilderness, moments
of rare pleasure and enjoyment. Take us now, for in-
stance. How lovely it is here! In the city one often
wearies of life, especially tiiose who, like myself, are always
over ears in various business transactions. My partner
Bigel has a wife, children, and life to him is made pleas-
ant. But I ? More than once I said to myself : I work
and work, day in and day out, but for whose particular
benefit? Of course, I will have acquired money, but of
what good is that? To-morrow will be littlj better than
to-day, work, work and work ! But, you see, once a man
devotes his energies to money-hoarding, it seems to hira
the only real goal of life worth living for. And yet, there
are moments, when my old eccentric Vaskovski is posi-
tively right in his assertions that those whose names end
in**tzki" or '*vich,"can never put into anj^thing their
wjiolr soul, can never be satisfied with that one thing.
He claims that in our minds the memory of olden times is
fresh and green, that we Slavs have otlier r.issions than
the hoarding of money. He is a very original type, a
philosopher and a mystic. I argue witli him, and continue
acquiring money at the same time the best I can, but now,
alone with you, in this charming spot, I must confess that
there is some sense in his })hilosophy."

For a moment both were silent. At last, Polanetzki
resumed :

*' Panni Chavastovska told me the truth. That one can
make your acquaintance, learn to like you, and confide in
you more in one hour than with other people during a
montli. I am convinced of it myself now, for it seems
to me that I have known you so long a time. I believe
that such impressions are produced only by extremely kind,
generous people."

" Emilya is very fond of me and is very generous in
her pral.-;es," replied the young girl, "and had it been true,
it seems to me that nmch depends on the other person,

you know. I ceitiiinly could not be tlie same with every-
body."

'' Indeed not ! Last night, for instance, the impression
was entirely different ; but then you were tired and
sleepy."

" Yes, partly so."

*' And why did you not retire ? Could not tlie servant
liave [)repared tea for me ; and, at least could I not go to
bed without it ? "

" Oh, no ! We are not so deficient in liospitality.
Papa declared tliat one of us had to accord you a cordial
reception, and I was afraid he might undertake the task
himself. I took his place."

" I beg your [)ardon, tlien," said Polanetzki, " that I
spoke of our financial affairs as soon as I put my foot in
your dining-room. This is the manner of a tradesman, I
suppose, to speak of money lirst and last. I repio;iched
myself afterwards for my undue haste, and now shame-
facedly beg your forgiveness."

" You need not apologize, for you are not to blame.
You were told tliat the management of tlie estate was in
my hands, and naturally, you turned to me."

The glowing sun disappeared beyond the green moun-
tains, and, little by little, darkness and night came down
upon the peaceful village. After a short while thny re-
turned to tlie house, but the evening being so beautiful,
they sat down on the veranda facing the garden. Pola-
netzki suddenly arose, and without a word of explanation,
went into the house. lie returned immediately carrying
alowstool, and knfeeling down, he put it under the feet ol
Marinya.

"• Tliank you ! Thank you very much!" she re})eate(l
blushingly, .adjusting her dress. "How kind you are I "

" I am not very attentive by nature," replied he, " but
do you know who taught me tlu.'se little duties ? Lida.
She must be well taken care of, and Panni Chavastovska
must remember every little thing which might comfort
the little sufferer."

"She remembers it well, besides we shall all help lier.
Had she not gone to Reichenhall, I would have invited her
to Kreiueu."

" I would have followed Lida witliout your invitation."

" You may consider yourself invited in the name of my
father to visit us whenever you choose."

"Do not be so magnanimous, lest I should take advant-
age of your kindness and abuse it. I feel very good here,
and as soon as I weary of Warsaw I will escape to Kre-
nien to liide under your protection."

Pohmetzki was now conscitjus that his words were aimed
to establish between them certain friendly relations, tobui-
den each olher with their mutual sympatliies, likes and
dislikes. Yet he spoke purposely as well as sincerely,
and while his words brought the color to her cheeks, he
gazed at her 3'oung, tender face, lighted by the setf'ng
sun, so serene, so quiet. Marinya raised her blue eyes, in
which he could plainly read the question : " Is this idle
talk, or what ? "

" Very well I " she murmured half audibly. And again
both kept silence, feeling that something was taking place
within their souls.

*' I am surprised that papa has not come yet," suddenly
said Marinya.

In fact, the sun had long set; a damp moisture was felt
in the air, and the i)ond was alive with frogs.

But Polanetzki did not reply to I er remark, and as if
sunk in his own meditations, began : " I do not attempt
to analyze life, having no time for it, but when I am com-
fortable, when I am liappy — as I am now, — I feel it with
all my senses. Wlien I am miserable — I feel it in the
same mannei*. But five or six years ago it was different.
There was a number of us .young peo[)le who gathci-ed on
short summer evenings and long winter nights to discuss
various problems of life. There were some savants, and
a writer very popular in Belgium. Wu stormed each
other witli questions ; Avhither we were going, what will
be the result, the ultimate end. We read the theories
of pessimists, and were entangled and lost in the meshes
of their knotty problems. We were not unlike the birds
that cross the seas in their tliohts and have iiothin^if on which
to alight and rest. But out of all that chaotic mass of
dogmas that lilled my brain I retained two things: tirst,
Uuit those popular Belgians and other savants and writers,

»»

ition.
of my

(Ivant-
il here,
o

Kie-

i aimed
to bin-
es and
icerely,
iks, he
sett- 11 g
3yes, in
lis idle

d ao^aiii
g phice

iddenly

svas felt

d as if
ittempt
m com-
t with
in the
Terent.
red on
discuss
ts, and
eacli
at will
lieories
meshes
e birds
wliich
mass of
iirst,
writers,

take it less to tlieir hearts than we do. We are more
simple, more naive. Second, tliat every new attack of
j)essimism makes me weak, robs me of my appetite for
lal)or. Then I sobered up and devoted my time and ener-
gies to tlie prosaic occu})ation of jjrinting calico. I said
to myself tliat life was tlie right of iiatnie, — sensible or
not, it matters little. One mnst live and draw from life
whatever slie yields, wliatever he can. And I am going
to get my share of it. Tine, Vaskovzki claims that we
Slavs cannot stop at one thing, but this is mere i)hiloso-
phy. There are two things besides money-making — rest,
serenity and — do you know what else ? A woman ! Yes, a
woman ! For a man needs some one to share his jo^'s
and sorrows. Death may come afterward — but very
well. Let it come ; for where death steps in, the human
mind, that instrument of self-torture, takes its depar-
ture. * That's not my business,' as the Englishman says.
In the meantime one must have somebody to whom to
give iiis possessions — money, knowledge, fame. Tlie moon
may be full of precious stones, but tliey are worthless,
because there is no one to appreciate their value. A man
must have some one to understand him, to ai)])reciate his
qualities. But who can understand me better than a
woman ; a woman, kind and confiding, a woman I love
with every nerve of my soul? This is the goal of every
man's life ; for does it not bring rest, contentment, the
only thing that is sensible ? I s])eak not as a j)oet, or as a
dreamer, but as a positivist and a merchant. To have at
your side a beloved creature, — this a sacred goal, — and
then let come what may. This is my philosophy."

Polanetzki declared that he spoke like a merchant, but
his words were those of a lover, affected by the fascina-
tions of a July evening, and the presence of a young girl,
who from many points of view came up to his require-
ments and ideas of life. Polanetzki was aware of it, and to
lessen its effect, turned directly to Marinya.

" Those are my thoughts, which I seldom lay before the
world. But to-day I decided to air them before you ;
probably, thanks to Panni Chavastovska, who I must
repeat, has spoken the truth : one can become nearer to
you in one day, than with others in a year. 1 shall never

regret my visit to Kremen, and hope to repeat it as often
as you will permit me."

"• Do come often."

" Thank you ! "

And he held out liis hand. Marinya gave him hers, as
if to signify consent.

Again silence reigned for some time, both being busy
v/ith tlieir own thouglits. At last Marinya, pointing with
lier hand to the light tliat increased every moment beyond
the alder trees, remarked : " tlie moon ! "

" Oh ! The moon, indeed ! "

Slowly tlie red disk of the moon appeared on the starry
sky from under tlie alder trees. At the same time the
dogs began to bark, the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard,
and a moment later, Plavitzki appeared on the thresliold
of tlie hall, lighted by a lamp. Marinya, followed by
Polanetzki, entered the house.

"Nothing happened," said the old man. " Panni Cliro-
metzka paid them a visit. Thinking that she might take
her leave soon, the Yamishes failed to let us know. Pan
Yamish is somewhat indisposed, but intends going to War-
saw to-morrow. She will be here day after to-morrow."

"Which means all's well?" asked Marinya.

"Naturally. But what have you been doing here? "

" We listened to the frogs," replied Polanetzki ; " and
we feel very good, I assure you."

" God alone knows why He created frogs, and though
they disturb my slumbers, I do not complain. There is
some good in them after all. Let us have tea, Marinya."

Tea was prepared in the adjoining room. Plavitzki
told of his visit to Panni Yamish. The young people
.'-ere silent, but from time to time gazed at each other
With their clear eyes, and when the hour struck eleven
they both departed with the recollection o' a handshake
that spoke of mutual friendship. Marinya felt very tired,
unusually so for 8unda3% but it was a pleasant fatigue.
Then when she laid her little liead on the soft pillows she
thought no more of the fact that to morrow was Mon-
day — a work-day, full of petty cares and woriles. Her
thoughts were centered on Polanetzki, and in her ears
rang his words; "And who will understand me, who will

as often

hers, as

ng busy
ing witii
b beyond

appreciate me better tlian a woman ; a woman, kind and
confidmg, a woman I could ^ve with every neno of my

In the meantime Polanetzki, undressing and li^^htincr a
cigaret e dreamed aloud : " A very goodra very beau ful
girl. Ihe world has not her equal."

le starry
:ime the
s heard,
u-eshold
►wed by

li Chro-
ht take
r. Pan
to War-
row."

re ? "
; "and

though
'liere is

irinya
lavitzki

people
1 other

eleven
:dshake
y tired,
'atigue.
)ws she
^ Mon-
i. Her
er ears
ho will

CHAPTER III.

:|,,:.

The next day was gray and misty, the skies covered
with huge, threatening clouds. A storm was in the air.
Marinya awoke early, indisposed and conscience-stricken.
It seemed to her that she had allowed herself to be carried
away too far by some unknown current, that she had sim-
ply flirted with Polanetzki. Her self-rebuke was the
more vigorous and merciless the more she reflected that
he came to Kremen not as a mere visitor, but as a stern
creditor. Last night it escaped her memory, but to-day
she thought, " he will certainly accept my conduct as a
ruse to gain his friendship, to soften him." At this
thought the blood rushed to her face and temples. Such
was her nature, scrupulous and ambitious, that she grew
indignant at the very idea of her being accused of merce-
nary motives. And yet she knew only too well that the
safe of Kremen was empty, that by the sale of Magyer-
ovka it was hoped to realize some snug sum in the future,
there were other creditors to whom her father would fain
give preference. It is true she resolved to do her
utmost to have Polanetzki's claim satisfied before others,
but she was also aware that her influence counted but lit-
tle. Plavitski willingly transferred the mar.agement of
the estate to his active daughter, but in financial matters
he brooked no interference and would turn a deaf ear to
all arguments. His idea seemed to be to gain temporary
relief; to promise worlds and do nothing; to oifer hopes
and visions of forthcoming riclies as something substan-
tial in payment of notes long overdue. Somehow he
managed to cling to Kremen, and though, at the end, the
crash was inevitable, the old man loved to be regarded as
the "head of all transactions," considering all contradic-
ticms as doubts of his business abilities. Marinya was
fre(iuently exposed to unnecessary humiliations. Her life
in the village was a perfect chain of worries, ungrateful

covered
the air.
tricken.
carried
lad sim-
,vas the
:ed that
, a stern
t to-day
uct as a
At tliis
. Such
le grew
; merce-
;hat the
Magyer-
future,
lid fain
do lier
others,
but lit-
nient of
matters
ear to
uporary
r liopes
ubstan-
liow he
3iid, the
irdod as
ntradic-
lya was
Her life
jrateful

labor, and self-torture, which only her tranquil, placid
face could conceal, although it betrayed an extraordinary
strength and flexibility of character. But the humilia-
tion which was in store for her at that moment exceeded
all others in her uneventful past. " If only he did not
condemn me," she repeated to hersv3lf time and again.
But what could she do ? Her first idea was to invite Po-
lanetzki to an informal chat, and mak^ some arrangement
before he had seen her father, to make clear to him their
condition in a frank, open manner, which one employs
with a man woilhy of contiv!ence. But this thought soon
gave place to another : such a discussion of grave finan-
cial matters could only be construed as a })lea for mercy,
and therefore savored of humiliation. Had Marinya, like
a woman who feels the throbbing of her lieart, been con-
scious, half instinctively, of the fact, that between her and
the young man, only lecently a perfect stranger to lier,
relations were being developed wliioli predicted a serious
iinale, she would have undoubtedly chosen that path.
But now it seemed to her impossible. There remained but
one e'H)ice.. to see Polanetzki, to impress upon him by her
})reseno conduct the fickleness of women in general, and
her own especially; in short, to destroy tlie threads of
sympathy they were yesterday weaving together, and to
accord him full liberty of action. Tliis means she imag-
ined ^o be the most convenient. Learning from the serv-
ant that Polanetzki had not only risen, but, liaving
dr.mk his tea, had gone out for a walk, she decided to
meet him. In this she succeeded very easily. A few
moments later he was seen returning from a short [)r()me-
nade through the garden. Halting ])efore the back })orch,
which was covered with a net of gra})evines, he spoke to
the doofs that welcomed him on the niiiht of his arrival.
At first he did not notice Maiinya standing on the [)oi'ch
in awaiting attitude. He patted the dogs as they j'om])ed
around him, throwing themselves at his feet, crawling up
liis knees. At, length, discovering Marinya, he iusIkmI to
her with astonishing alertness and hailed licfoie her,
visil)ly delighted and beaming with pleasure.

*'(Too(l-morning ! " said lu;, '•"• 1 was enjoying a quiet
chat here with your dogs. Have you slept well ? "

■■f-l.

" Quite well, thank you."

And slic coldly g-ave liim her hand. He stared at her
with eyes tliat spoke clearly of the pleasure it afforded
him to nieet her. And poor lieart-worn Marinya fully
shared liis deliglit, and her little lieart was rent with pain
at the thouglit that she was compelled to respond coldly
and ceremoniously to his '^ordial greeting.

*' ]\Iaybe you are on your way to the various outbuild-
ings, where your functions of management demand your
presence. In such case allow me to acconipany you. To-
day I must turn my face homeward, and I will therefore
gladly take advantage of every moment in your company.
God knows, that were I in a position to do so, I would
prolong my visit considerably. However, the road to
Kremen is now familiar to me."

Suddenly Polanetzki noticed the cold ring of lier words,
the uiniatural frigidity of her face. He gazed at her in
utter astonislnuent. If Marinya thouglit that he would
at once adapt himself to her erratic disposition, she was
sadly mistaken. He was too energetic, too bold, not to
demand the reason for the sudden chancre.

''What is the matter?" said he, looking straight into
her clear eyes.

" Notliing, I assure you," said slie, somewhat confused.

'* No ; I am not mistaken, and, wliat's more, you know
it very well yourself. You a[)pear to me to-day the same
as you were on our first meeting. But then the fault was
mine. I spoke of money, when it was hardly in j)lace or
in time. Yesterday I obtained your forgiveness, and our
conversation was so friendly, so interesting. . . . But
suddenly you change again. . . . Won't you be kind
enougli to explain?"

No diplomacy, not even tlie best of its kind, could work
more havoc with her i)lans than those sim[)le words. She
lio[)ed and feared to put a damper on his enthusiasm, to
drive him away, yet lie braved all barriers, and stood
neartu" to lier at that moment than ever before.

"Tell nu;, frankly, what is the matter with you," lie
])leaded with tlie tone of a man wh.o is Ijeing insulted.
" Your father told me yesterday that ^ was to be his guest
during that day, and to-day I may beeomo your creditor

at her
fforded
X fully
ill pain

coldly

itbuild-
d your
I. io-
erefore
mpany.
; would
oad to

words,

her in

would

die was

not to

lit into

nfused.

know

same

Lilt was

lace or

id our

, But

DC kind

d work
She
iisni, to
stood

|)U," lie
suited.
s ^uest
rcditor

again. . . . that is mere talk. I liave no conception
of such differences, and shall never be your creditor, but
rather your debtor. ... 1 owe you ver^' much, as it
is, for your extreme kindness of yesterday, and God
knows that I would give much to remain your debtor
forever. . . ."

And again he looked at her as if waiting for the reap-
pearance of that fascinating smile on her pink lips. Hut
Manny a, whose lu irt was distressed more and more,
followed her chosen path : first, because it was lier own
choice ; and, secondly, because of the fear of provoking
further discussions.

"I assure you," she finally said, mastering her emotions,
*'that you were either mistaken yesteiday, or you labor
under a lamentable illusion to-day. I am always the
same, and I sliall be perfectly hap[)y to know that yoi:
left us witli pleasant recollections of the brief visit."

These words were pronounced very i)olitcly, but tlu^y
were from the lips of a young girl so unlike the one he
admired the day before, that Polanetzki's mobile face
began to show signs of im[)atience, and even anger.

" If you wish me," he said, "• to make believe that 1
place credence in your explanation, I will submit. I will
depart with the impression that, in this part of the coun-
try, Monday is no relative of Sunday, and does not
resembl(3 it a bit."

Marinya was touched to the quii'k by the biting sarcasm
of his last words, they seemed to make a claim to certain
rights, created by lier conduct of yesterday. Her answer
had more the ring of sadness about it than of anger :

"What would you do?"

A mor.ient later slu; was gone, aftei' declaring to J^ola-
netzki that she must Lrreet lier father. He remained alone,
kicked the dogs that tried to attract his altenti(Ui, and
plunged into the ungrateful occupation of losing his
temper.

" What does this mean? " he asked liimsc^lf i-epeatedly.
Yestei'day all smiles, to-day cold and indifferent! A dif-
ferent woman entirely. And how foolish it is, howsmall !
Yesterday a i-elative, to-day — a lU'cditor. What is this to
her ? Have I robbed anybody ? Did she not know yes-

.-♦--^i

I.. I ■,

> '■ \

\.i :

ii I.

tenlay why I came here ? Very well, pretty Panna. If
you wisli me to be your creditor and not Pan Polanetzki,
you sliall liave your way, — the devil take vou one and
all ! "

In the meantime Marinya entered tlie room of her
fatlier, who was witting in his mornir,g-robe at the table,
which was covered witli papers. He turned for a moment
to res|)ond to the greeting of liis daugliter, then busied
liimself ag.iin witli the peiusal of tlie papers.

"*■ Papa," said Marinya, *' I came to speak about Pola-
netzki. You, papa "

But he interrupted her, and not taking liis eyes from
the papers, said :

" Your PoLinetzki will be in my hands like a lump
of wax."

" I doubt very much, whetlier you will be able to
come to terms with liim. I only wished to sa}^ that we
ought to satisfy him before otliers, even if ii; is against our
own interests."

Phivitzki turned around, looked at her, and asked
coldly: -'That's it. Eh? But what does it mean, pray,
a self-instituted guardianship over him or over me ? "

" Tliis is a question of your honor, father."

" Do you really believe that I am in need of your ad-
vice in such matters ? "

" No, papa, but "

" What a pathetic day this seems to be ! What does it
all mean ? "

" I only implore, my father."

'^ And I request you to leave it all to me. You have
taken the reins of the management out of my hands, and I
willingly gave them to you, because I have no desii-e to
quarrel with my only child in the last days of my life.
But let me liave this corner in the entire house; let me
have one little room and the liberty to arrange such mat-
ters. '

" But papa, dearest pa})a, — T only beg "

'' That 1 should niove to the luunlet. What barn, then,
will you have nie call my own ? "

Piavitzki who s[)oke of a [)athetic day, evidently was
loath to let anyone share with him that monopoly, lie

ina. If
[inetzki,
n)e ajid

of her
le table,
[iioment

busied

X Pok-
es from
a lump

able to
that we
iiist our

asked
II, pray,

our ad-
does it

u have
i, and I
ssire to
11 y life,
let nie
1 mat-

1, then,

ly was
He

arose, like King Lear, and grasped the back of tlie chair as
if for supi)ort, thus giving a hint to his cruel (hiughtcr tluit,
struck by her cruelties, he is in danger of breaking down,
and falling prostrate on the carpeted floor. Tears came
to the eyes of the young girl, and a bitter feeling of help-
lessness like a lump came in her throat and choked her.
She paused for a moment, as if struggling with compas-
sion, and an inclination to cry aloud, then she said in a
low voice :

" Forgive me, father ! "

And she was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, Polanetzki, at the request of the
old man, went into the hitter's room. lN)lanetzki was
aiigiy, excited, and could scarcely control himself.

Plavitzki after bidding him good-moiiilng, pointed to
a comfortable chair, and crossing his hands on his knee,
beii'an :

'' I hope, Stach, that you will not burn my house,
neither kill me who has o[)ened his arms to you, nor leave
my child an unprotected orphan?"

" No, uncle," replied Polanetzki. " I feel no inclination
for burning houses just now. You ma}- keep on living in
your old way. No child will be left an orplian, if I can
lielp it. What I want is to put an end to all such intro-
ductions which can do you no good, and are to me, em-
barrassing at the least. '

" Very well," said Plavitzki, chagrined that his style
of expression was not appreciated by his ne[)hew. " Put
remember that you came to me, and to the house you
visit('(l as a child."

'' I came here, because such was the will of my mother.
My mother came here because vou did not nay the interest
on your mortgage. Put all this is neitlier iiere nor there,
riiat mortfifacfe is now twenty-one years old, and tojxether
With tlie interest represents the sum of twenty-four thou-
sand roubles. For simplicity's nake let us name it twenty
thousand, it being a round, even amount. Pint these
twenty thousand roubles I must get, and this is why I
came here."

Plavitzki convincingly nodded his hea«l.

"And that is why you came here," repeated he with ill-

,■■*.. ,

■K .:' ■

concealed scorn. " But tell me, Stacli, why were you
yesterday quite another man? "

Polanetzki, who half an hour a^.'-o put the same question
to Marinya, nervously jumped in his chair, but instantly
restrained himself, and remarked:

" Let us talk business, please ! "

" I am not oj)posed to it, but permit me first, to say a
few words. Don't interrupt me. You said that I did not
pay the interest. True. But do you know why ? Your
mother had not given me her whole fortune, which would
require the consent of the executors of your father's will.
Perliaps this was detrimental to your own benefit. But
this is not the point I want to reach. Having taken from
her the paltry few thousands, I decided thus : Here is a
Avoman, a widow left alone in the world with her child,
and God alone knew how she would fare in the days to
come. The nione}^ said I to myself, must remain with
me and serve, so to say, as a soHtI foundation for her fu-
ture. Let the interest grow and multiply until there is
enough for her to depend upon for supjjort in later years.
From that moment I -was 3'our savings bank. Your
mother gave twelve thousand roubles. I have now some
twenty-four thousand. Such is the brilliant result. Will
you now pay me with ingratitude?"

" Listen, dear uncle ! " said Polanetzki, losing patience.
"Please do not consider me more stupid than I really am.
Do not think me demented. I warn you that you cannot
catch me in this trap. Tlie bait is altogether too ])oor.
You say you have twenty-four thousand roubles of my
money — out v/itli them ! J beg of you to hand them over
to me without further argument."

" And I ask you to be moit patient, more lenient, if
only because I am your senior," said Plavitzki with dig-
nity.

*' I have a partner, Avho, a month from now, will invest
in a certain enterprise twelve thousand roubles. I must
produce an equal amount, of course. I therefore declare
to you, most explicitly, that after two years' constant bom-
barding with letters, 1 cannot, I will not wait any longer."

Plavitzki put his elbow on the table, closed his eyes,
ftnd was silent.

- «

.vere you

question
instantly

to say a
I did not
? Your
)h would
er's will,
fit. But
ken fioni
[ere is a
31- child,
days to
lin with
' her fu-
thei-e is
er years.
:. Your
»w some
t. Will

)atience.
illy am.
cannot
)0 ])oor.
of my
m over

lent, if
111 dig-

invest
must
declare
nt bom-
onger."
eyes,

Polanetzki looked at him, waiting for an answer, gazed
at him with increasing disgust, and re|)^ jdly put to him-
self the question : *' What is he — a fraud, a scoundrel,
or an egotist grown so blind in self-admiration that he meas-
^ iires good and evil with his own yard-stick for his own
M benefit, — or all three together ? "

il Plavitzki continued to be silent, covering his face with

the palm of his hand.

" At last I wish to know something," resumed Pola-
netzki.

But Planitzki made a sio^n with his hand that he was
not throucfh with his calculations.

Suddenly he showed a beaming face.

" Do you know, Stach, what I have to say ? Why quar-
rel when there is such an easy solution at hand? "

'' What is it ? "

" Take the 'mergel ' (a chalky clay)."

"What?"

" Come here with your partner, and an expert. Let us
put a conservative price on the deposit of * mergel ' and
organize a company. Your partner, what's his name,
liigel? — will pay me according to his share of the stock,
and we will work hand in hand, to our mutual benefit,
for there is a real treasure in it, I assure you."

Polanetzki arose.

" Pardon me," said he, "• I am not accustomed to being
laughed at like a fool. I do not want your ' treasures.'
I want money, and all your plans and schemes I consider
shameless, senseless efforts to dodge the real issue." A
moment of awkward silence ensued. A Jupiter-like anger
began to cloud the brow and forehead of i'lavitzki. His
eyes shot lightning glances at the bold intruder. He rose
majestically, and walking a few ste[)s toward the 0[)posite
wall, he selected a quaint hunter's dagger and handing
it to Polanetzki said :

" In such case there remains o\]]y one other alternative.
Here is my breast — slay ! "

And he unbuttoned his robe. But Polanetzki, over-
come by a mingled feeling of indignation and disgust,
pushed away his hand holding the dagger, and in a loud,
excited voice exclaimed ; " This is a base comedy — and

\ *<'-

^■Vt

P ' • ,:. i'

nothing more ! It's absolutely a waste of time and words
to argue with you any longer. I am going away, beeause
your Krenien is quite sutlieient for nie, but 1 warn you
tliat I will sell mv elaini for half its oriijinal value, to the
firat Jew I meet, who will take you in hand better than I
can."

At these words Plavitzki held out his right haml, and
pointing to the door, solemnly })ronounced :

" Go and sell! Let a Jew into the sacred portals of
your native nest ! But remember that ni}^ curse and the
curses of all who lived here before me, will follow you to
the end of the world."

Pohpietzki ran out of the room, pale and white with
rage. He ran into the rece[)tion-i()()m, and while hunting
blindly for his hat, delivered himself (^f a torrent of curses
that was more than sni'tieient for Plavitzki's ancestors,
numerous as they might have been. At last he found his
hat, and as he ruslied toward the door to see whether his
carriage was awaiting him, he almost ran into the arms of
Marinya. At the sight of her he halted, but remembering
th;'t she was manager Je facto of Kremen's destinies, said
in tremulous voice :

" Farewell I I am done with your father. I came to
collect my property, but first of all iie blessed mo, then he
offered me imaginaiy treasures, and finally he I'^vishly
sn[)[)lied me with curses enough to last for two lives. A
nice way to pay debts I "

There was an instant during this tirade, when Marinya
wanted to offer him her hand and say : ^'I can understand
your anger. A few minutes before your entrance into
father's room I was tlieie myself. I begged him to settle
with you before all others. Do with us and with Kremeu
whatever you please, but do not condemn me. Don't
think that I am in the conspiracy to rob you of your own,
and res[)ect me, if or.ly a little." And she stretched out
lier hand, and the words were hanging on her lips, but
Polanetzki, getting excited more and more, and again
losing his self-control, added with vehemence:

*' I relate to you these facts, because when on the first
night I mentioned the matter you felt offended, and
referred me to your father. 1 thank you for your yi^luablQ

[111(1 words
)', because
^^alll you
ue, to the
ter than I

hand, and

portals of
3 and the
•w you to

hite with
3 hunting
.of curses
mcestors,
found his
ether his
e arms of
L' in be ring
lies, said

came to

, then lie

I'tvishly

ves. A

Marinya
lerstand
ice into
to settle
K re me 11
Don't
ur own,
hed out
ips, but
1 again

the first
L'd, and
{Uuable

advice, but as it proved to be of more benefit for yourself
than for me, I will next time choose my own mode of
action."

Tiie pink lips of Marinya became white, tears of indig-
nation and insulted dignity swelled in her blue eyes, and
pioudly lifting her head said :

"' You may heap insults upon me to your lieart's content,
since there is no one to protect me."

And she turned her back to him, and went toward the
door, filled with a bitter feeling of humiliation and despair
ill that incessant labor, into which she put her strength,
the fire of her young, pure soul, and for which she reaped
such bitter fruit. Polanetzki discovered only too late,
that, carried away by excitement, he had committed an irre-
])aiable wrong. In a moment anger gave place to pity,
lie was eager to run after her, to crave her pardon, but it
was too late : Marinya was gone.

This was the last straw. Rage literally boiled within
him. Still he overcame botli his rage and his remorse,
and bidding farewell to no one, I'C jumped into the wait-
ing carriage, which carried liim swiftly away from Kreinen.
For a lono' time the master-tliouoht tliat filled his brain
was revenge. " I will certainly sell it for a third of its
price," repeated he excitedl}-, ^^ and let them ruin you,
send you away homeless pau[)ers! U[)()n my word of
lionor, I will sell it. I may not be compelled to do it, but
I will!"

Thus his ideas took the form of a firm decision. Pola-
netzki was not one of those men who throw tlieir words
to the wind. The main diflic ilty now was to find a pur-
chaser willing to invest such an amount, which in turn
meant the sale, the ruin of Kremen.

Meanwhile the carriage passed the broad avenue and
reached the road in the o})en field. Recovering somewhat,
Polanetzki began to think of Marinya in an absolutely mo-
saic way: his thoughts were a variegated collection of bits of
feeling of admiration for her beauty, of impressions made
upon him by her face and figure, of recollections of Sunday's
conversation, displeasures, compassion, imaginary insults,
anger, and, finally, discontent with himself that exceeded his
disappointment in Maiin_) a. Tiie;||^eliiigs were at battle

with each other, now one, now another, gaining supremacy.
There were moments wlien lie remembered the tall, stately
figure of Marinya, her dark li.:ir, her pretty if somewhat
broad lips, and lastly, the subtle cx})ression of her face,
and again the sympathy for her appeared victoiious. He
thought slie was too pure, too womanly, that there was
something in the outlines of her shoulder and her entire
figure that attracted with a strange magic force. He
remembered her soft, musical voice, her serene look, her
apparent kindness and generosity, and he hea})ed curses
on himself for his ungovernable temper, for his scandalous
behavior at his departure.

" If her father is an old clown, a swindler and a dunce,"
he said to himself, " and if she understands it and feels it,
the more is the pity, for she must be truly wretched and
miserable. But under such circumstances, every sensible
man, every man with a feeling heart, would sympathize
with hei', and not attack the poor child, as I did, 1 — ."

And he was ready to strike himself, for he understood at
the same time what a delightful state of intimacy, what a
mutual respect there might have develo})ed between them,
had he, after his stormy scene with her father, treated her
in a polite, gentlemanly way. She would have extended to
him both her pretty hands, which he would have kissed most
fervently, and they would have parted the bc^t of fiiends.
*' At the end. the devil may take that money," thought he,
" and now he might do some good by takii\g me." He felt
that he had acted foolishly, at least, and this knowledge
unbalanced him, pushed him farther and farther along that
path he himself considered unfortunate. And he con-
tinued to meditate in approximately the following manner :

"But once it is all lost — God have mercy on them ! I
will sell my claim to the first Jew that comes my way.
Let him })ress them to the wall, let him ruin them, leave
them without a roof. May the old man seek emploj'ment
in his old days. And Marinya ap])ly for the position of
governess, or marry Goutovski." But here he felt that he
would sooner consent to anything than to see this take
place. He would break Goutovski's head ! '' Let anybody
marrv hor. but not that dullard, not that bear." And the
unfortunate Goutovslji became the target of all his pent-up

e
wl
st
hi

ipremacy.

ill, stately

somewhat
lier face,
ous. He
here was
ler entire
ice. He
look, lier
?d curses
andalous

>»

- dunce,
I feels it,
lied and
sensible
npathize

rstood at
, what a
in them,
ated her
inded to
ed most
fiiends.
i^ht he,
He felt
)wledge
)ng- tlmt
he con-
lanner :
em ! I
y ^vay.
leave
:)yment
tion of
that he
is take
lybody
nd the
)ent-up

vaf'o, just as if he were the direct cause of wliat liad hajv
pL'UL'd. Having reached Cliernyov, the railroad terminus,
he looked in vain for (loulovski, ready to make him the
victim o( his revenge. Fortunately for Goutovskijhe met
on the station only a few peasants and Jews, and the
emaciated, though intelligent, retined face of Pan Yamish,
wlio recognized him. When the Ijell rang and the train
started, Yamish invited him to his own j)rivate car, whi(!h
he obtained thanks to his intimate ac(][uaintance with the
station-master.

" I knew your father very Avell," said Yamish, as soon
as they were comfortably seated, "in his best days. I was
married not far from his estates. And a splendid estate it
was. Your grandfather was one of the most prominent
landowners in that region ; but now, I presume it has all
passed into other hands.*"
M ''Oil, 3'es, a long time since. My fatlier before his

• death lost all his estates. He was an invalid, lesided for
the most part at Nice, [)aid little attention to the manage-
ment of his fortune, — and the result is obvious. If it
had not been for the meager inheritance my mother
received after his death, we would have fared very ill,
indeed."

" But you seem to get along splendidly yourself. I
happen to know your firm. I have had some business with
it through Pan Abdulski concerning the sale of hoj)s."

"Ah ! Pan Alxlulski was your representative?"

" Yes, and I nuist admit that your firm lias given me
full satisfaction in the matter. \V)U have acquired an
enviable reputation, based on honest dealings, which alone
leads to success."

" Honest dealings are essential in our business, as in
every oilier branch of commerce. My partner is a very
scrupulous man. And 1 myself am not — Plavitzki."

" What do you mean ? " asked Pan Yamish, interested.

With the raofe still burninijf within him, with a voice
nngnig with just indignation, Polonetzki related to him
the stormy scene just enacted at Kremen.

"IPm? .... muttered Yamish *' Since you speak of
him unceremoniously, handling him without gloves, allow
ine to add a few words, though he is your relative,"

"Our relationship is doubtful: his first v/ife was a rel-
ative, a chum of my motlier."

" I have knowu Plavitzki for a number of years. He
is a man more s])oiled by surroundings than really
bad by nature. lie was an only son and therefore
first of all, became the pet and despot of liis parents,
and later on of his two wives. Tiie Litter were both
kind, easy-going women, who fairly worshipped him.
He was their idol. For many ycai^ tlie circumstances were
such that he was the sun round wliicli circled all minor
planets, until he finally readied the conclusion that the
world owed him ev^M-ytliinix, while he owed to his fellow
men — nothing. Wnen one is brought up under such cir-
cumstances, measuring good and evil with his own yard-
sticl: for liis own benefit, he has .ail the facilities forlosiujr
lus moral equilibrium. Plavitsk.i is a mixture of idleness
and weakness ; idleness, because he was always careful to
evade everything tliatsiivored of labor; weakness, })ecause
he met no obstacle in his way, and these evils ultimately
became deep rooted, natural, and demoralizing. Then
came hard times, times whicli only a man with a strong
character and a powerful will could tide over witliout
breaking down, and these qualities he lacked absolutel3\

''Instead of facing the trouble like a man, he began to
juggle and dodge, and finally became an adept in tliis
contemptible art. But after all, success does not always
favor the dodger. It is my candid opinion that Plavitzki
will eventually lose his hold u])on Kremen, even though
he sliould sell Magyerovka. Marinya alone lias my heart-
felt sympathies. There is a girl worthy of sincere ad-
miration. Two yeai's ago the old man was about to sell
Kremen and establish himself in the city. It was only
due to the tears and entreaties of his daughter that this
plan was not carried out. 'J'he young girl, whether for
the sake of the memory of her mother, or intluenced by
the pure love for the country and the old i)lace so dear to
her, did lier utmost to prevent the sale of their old home-
stead. Poor girl ! She imagined that one need only put
his whole soul into the woik, and eveiytliing would
flourish and prosper. Like a true martyr she denied her-
self everything for tlic sake of Kremen. What a blow the

all

P(|

fr;[
tell

g^'

hel
rei
pel

W^S::

'jsh^/'UmiiA:^'^

was a rel-

ears. He
an really

til ere fore
i parents,
t'eie both
ped liim.
noes were
ill minor

that the
is feUow
such cir-
wn yard-
or losing

idleness
ireful to
, because
tiniateh'-
. Then
I strong
without
'lutely.
)egan to

in this

always
lavitzki
though
y heart-
ere ad-

to sell
IS only
at this
lier for
ced by
Iciir to

horne-
ily i)ut

would
3d her-
ow the

loss of Kremen will be for her now ! I pity the girl with
all m}" heart."

" You are very kind, indeed, Pan Yamish," exclaimed
Polanetzki, forgetting his anger. The old man smiled.

" I love that little wench," he said, " and besides this
frail, delicate creature has the entire management in her
tender little hands. It would be a pity to lose such a
gentle neighbor."

Polanetzki bit his moustache, and finally said : " Let
her marry some gentleman in the vicinity. Then she may
remain with you and grace the country with her charming
personality."

" How easily you say it ! Let her marry ? A girl with-
out a dowry is not such a tempting bait in our part of the
country. And then, who is there in the vicinity to ] ly
claim to her affections? Pan Goutovski? He w ^'.dd
have hesitated very little to make her the mistress of his
home. He is a good man, but very limited, mentally, they
say. She does not seem to care enough for him — and of
course that alone settles it. Goutovski's estate is very
small, and if this was not suilicient reason to make the
young man's chances very slim indeed, Plavitzki labors
under the impression that the name of Goutovski stands
niueh below that of his own. Put one thing is certain,
whoever marries Marinya acquires a treasure."

At that moment Polanetzki, carried away l)y Ids own
vivid imagination of what might have been, fully shared
this oi)iiii()n. Once more he became absorbed in his own
meditations, ])icturing to himsidf Marinya in all her fas-
cinating charms; thinking, fearing that he would pine
for her, yet consoling himself that on former occasions
such praidvs of the heart were easily overcome and for-
gotten. Hut the nearer he drew to Warsaw, the more
restless he gi'nv. As ho alighted from the car, lie mut-
tered tlirough his teeth : " How foolishly it all happened 1
How perfectly absurd I "

i.'i

CHAPTER IV.

On his return to Warsaw, Polanetzki spent the first
night at the house of liis partner, to whom he was at-
laclied by an old and sincere friendshi}). Bigel,-a,Pole by
birth, was a descendant of an okl family who, three gen-
erations before liim, emigrated to Poland. Before he
entered into copartnersiiip with Polanetzki, Bigel owned
a small commercial and bankinof establishment, which
gained for liim tlie reputation of a merchant, if not very
ent(3rprising, at least scrupulously honest in all his deal-
ings with his clients. AVlieu Polanetzki joined Bigel the
business was considerably enlarged, and accpiiied a wide
and flattering reputation. Botli i)artners worked in per-
fect harmoii}'. Polanetzki, more active and determined,
was gifted witli the faculty of seeing things in theii' right
light, and acting [)romptly and decisively. He it waswlio
perceived tlie benelits of each new enterprise, who drew
t);e ])lans of its perfection. But it was Bigel who patiently,
conscientiously develo[)ed each and every detail, making
the enter[)rise an absolute success.

If l)usiness required an energetic mind, a firm liaiul, a
strong will, Polanetzki could not be dis[)ensed with. If
it required searching, digging, {)atient labor over the whys
and wberebu-es of its possible success or failure, Bigel
could not be spaied. Tiiese were natures, radically
()p])os(Ml to eacli otiier, who met and nevei'tlieless agrecsd,
".jinibng tliat agreement by ties of mutual friendsliip.
l*()lanetzki, liowever, had tlie advantage of his i>art-
ner's absolute faith in his, lN)lanetzki\s, julministrative
abililies, which, crowned by a few fortunate enterprises,
seemed to Bitifel nuich oreater than they reallv were. 'I'lie
golden dream of both was, after reaching a certain stage
of prosperity, to o{)en an extensive plant for the ])rinting
of calico, for wliich Polanetzki was especially ada[)ted as
a chemist, and Bigel .is a manager. This dieam, however,

te
th

ill
ll

the first
I was at-
a Pole by
iree gen-
lefore he
?1 owned
t, wliich
not very
his de:il-
IVif^iil the

a wide
I in per-
ennined,
eir right
was who
lo drew
atiently,
making

liand, a
ilh. If
le whys
, Bigel
adically
agrcu!(l,
ndsliip.
IS pait-
strative
M'prisi's,
'. Tl.e
n stage
•riiitjiig
>U'(1 as
jwever.

was very far from becoming a fact. Less patient and
more passionate, Polanetzki, on his return to his native
country from abroad, made various and futile efforts to in-
terest in the proposed scheme local capital lying idle in
the hands of his wealthy relatives. He was met every-
where by cold indifference or open distrust. Among
others he noticed a peculiar fact: His own name, made
illustrious by his wealthy ancestors, opened the doors of
higher society to him, and yet this very name did liini
more harm than good. It seemed as if the people he ap-
pealed to, could not in their own brain digest the thought
of how a man of sucli a family and name that ended in
" tzki," could manage any business at all. At first this
fact angered Polanetzki, in view of which the more pldeg-
matic Bigel was compelled to check his partner's wratli by
various logical arguments, which all carried the^^oint
home to Polanetzki that such lack of confidence was very
natural tlianks to the bitter experience of that time, a time
of many beginnings and disastrous endings.

" The time has not come yet," argued Bigel. But it
will come soon, or rather it is due already. Until then
amateurism and dilettanteism ruled the day, but now there
a[)[)ear on the scene iiere and there trained s[)ecialists, men
expert in their vocations and [)rofessions, who know wluit
thuy want and liow to get it. Polanetzki, himself, not-
withstanding his [)assionate temperament, possessed a mind
at once clearly devel()i)ed and observing. He made many
useful discoveries in those s[)heres which were accessible to
liim. These discoveries gained general ap[)roval, but
tliis approval seemed to be underlined witli a vague sort
of condescension. Eacli and every one gave himself tlie
trouble to admit that lu; agieed with Pohmetzki, that he
found his labor useful and expedient, but no one made an
effort to conceal the fact tliat lie was puzzled by the
attitude of Polanetzki, who seemed to consider his profes-
sion iiatui'al and common.

'''Hiiiy all look as if they wei'o soi'ry for me, or if tliey
were doing nie favors," said Polaiuitzki, and in this j)re-
suniption he was right. He ii.ially became convinced that
liad he offered his liamt and name to a young lady of tliat
higher circle, his buMking and couuuerciul iirm would only

■. ii

not make his road smooth, hut would absolutely prove a
handicap. Had he an estate burdened with debts, or a
natural inclination to live the life of an idler, his suit
would be looked upon with more favor. The day Pola-
netzki made tliese discoveries, he began to systematically
avoid society, and finally scratclied his numerous friends
off his list, leaving the family of Panni Chavastovska,
Bigel and such bachelor friends, without which his life
would be too desolate and monotonous. He dined, like
other fashionables, at Francois' with Bukatzki, old Vas-
kovski and Mashko, the lawyer, with whom he con-
stantly discussed tlie various topics of the day. But
generally he led a very quiet uneventful life, void of ex-
citements and dissipations, and, notwithstanding his In-
creasing wealth, was still unmarried, though wistfully
lon^ng for a happy union. Having arrived at Bigel's,
Polanetzski did not fail to paint Plavitzki in the darkest
colors he possibly could, hoping to find sympatlietic
hearers in liis friend and the hitter's wife. But Bigel
seemed totally unaffected by this 2)athetic tale of woe, and
to his passionate tirade rejoined.

*' I am familiar with such types. But, to be candid,
where in the name of sense will Thivitzki get th(! money,
if it is nowhere to be had? One nmst have plenty of
patience with such debtors. Country estates absorb, then
swallow hirge sums of mone}', but return it very rarely,
and only after much hard squeezing."

"Listen, Bigel," impatiently interrupted Polanetzki.
"Since you have come into the habit of taking after-
dinner naps, one must have the patience of a slave to talk
to you."

"• My assertion is true, nevertlieless. Besides, I fail to
gee why you are so clamoring for money? Have you not
at your disposal the sum I am su[)posed to invest as my
share of the partnershi}) capital?"

*' But what is this to you or to Plavitzki ? He has had
my money long enough, and he must return it."

The entrance of Panni Bigel with her children put an
end to their dispute. Panni Bigel was a young woman,
dark-haired, ami blue-eyed, extremely kind and devoted
to her bix children, of whom I'olunetzki himself was very

^VtA!fe.i,.a£-*aaM^'-

ly prove a
debts, or a
er, Ins suit
! day Pola-
teniiitically
31IS fiieiids
vastovska,
cli Ills life
lined, like
I old Vas-
^ he coii-
ay. But
■oid of ex-
ig liis ji-
wistfully
t Bigel's,
le darkest
tnpatlietic
iut Jiigel
woe, and

e candid,
<i nioiiey,
lonly of
oib, then
y rarely,

hmetzki.
ig after-
13 to talk

r fail to
you not
t as niy

lias liad

put an
woman,
devoted
as very

fond. She was his sincere, intimate friend, rivaling in
that Panni Emilya Chavastovska. Both ladies, knowing
Marinya for a number of years, determined to bring Pola-
netzki to lier feet, and it was their scheme to send. Pola-
net/ki to Kremen. Panni Bigel was consumed with a
burning curiosity to know what impression he brought
liome of his -visit to Kremen and its fair mistress. But,
owing to the noise and din of the children, conversation
was impossible. The youngest, Yass, crawling on all-
fours, embraced Polanetzki's knees, yelling, " Pan, Pan,'*
the two girls Eva and Yagassia without ceremony climbed
upon his knees, while Eddy and Yuzia were entertaining
him with a lecture. The youngsters were reading the
" Conquest of Mexico," and played war. Eddy, raising his
brows, and turning up the palm of his hand spoke with
exultation.

"All riglit, Yuzia, I'll be Cortez and, you'll be the
mounted knight. But since neither little Eva nor Ya-
gassia wish to be Montezuma, how are we going to play?
Wc can't perform without a Montezuma. Some one must
tako liis part, or else who will lead the Mexicans?

" And where are the Mexicans, my brave conqueror,'*
asked ]*olanetzki.

'' The Mexicans and Spaniards are the chairs," replied
Yuzia.

'' Tlien I will be Montezuma, and you can go ahead con-
quering Mexico."

Pandemonium ensued. Tlie quickness and liveliness of
Polanetzki's movements, his love of children permitted
him for tlie moment to become once more a child himself,
and with genuine childish glee lead the campaign of de-
fense and resistance in such a vigorous manner, that
Cortez Eddy denied liim finally the riglit of resistance,
claiming, that since Montezuma was vanquished he was
bound to be beaten. This was historically correct, but
Montezuma would not heed to logic, but continued to fight.
The fun grew more hilarious and the noise was deafen-
ing.

Pamii Bigel could not wait for the battle to end, and
turning to her husband, asked :

"Well, what is the result of his trip to Kremen?"

♦••4,..

" He did there what he is doing here now," phlegmatic-
ally answered Bigel, *'he turned the chaiis upside down,
made a lot of noise, and went home."

"• Did he say anything? "

"I had no time to speak to liim about Marinya, but with
I'lavitzki lie parted in a very ugly humor. He intends to
soil liis debt, wliich will cause a positive breach of friend-
ship and relationship."

*' What a pity ! " concluded his wife.

At the tea-table, after the children were put to bed,
Panni Bigeltook Polanetzki in hand, and plied him with
her questions about Marinya.

" 1 am not certain," said he evasively, " she may be
pretty, and still she may not: I have not thought of it."

" This is not true, I refuse to believe it," replied Panni
Bigel.

" If it is not true, then, of course, it means that she is
lovely, beautiful and a combination of all the virtues found
among women. One can be smitten by lier charms, adore
her, marry her, but my foot shall never be in Kremen
again. I now understand perfectly well, why you have
sent me thither. But you certainly made a mistake in
not warning me, what sort of a bird her father was ; for,
they claim, cliildren often do resemble their parents.
And if tliis is the case, then I surely owe you my grat-
itude."

" Pray, see how inconsistent you are ! Think of what
you said a moment ago ; she is lovely, beautiful, one may
marry her, and then you end witli : slie may resemble
her father I What absurdities you do utter to-night ! "

" Very possibly ! but 1 really don't care a straw. Suffice
it, tliat luck is apparently against me : everything goes
wrong ! "

" And yet I must call your attention to two facts : first,
you have returned under a strong and highly favorable
impression made by Marin3%a ; second, that she is the best
and purest of girls it has ever been my good fortune to
know, and happy will be tlie man wlio marries lier."

" Why has she not been married before ? "

*' Because she is l)arely twenty-one, and lias only re-
cently made her debut in society. But do not think for a

m(
hal

thi
an|
of

of'

frd
inj

hlegmatic-
}ide down,

[, but with
intends to
of friend-

t to bed,
biiQ with

) may be
lit of it."
ed Panni

^t she is
les found
LIS, adore
Kremen
ou have
istake in
^as ; for,
parents,
my grat-

of what
)ne may

esenible
•ht ! "

Suffice

^g goes

5 : first,
vorable
he best
^une to

nly re-
k foj- a

moment that she has no admirers and pretenders for her
hand.

" Good luck to them ! "

BntPolanetzki's words Lacked sincerity, the very thought
that some one else miglit win her love was obnoxious to him,
and yet he was grateful to Panni Bigel for licr lavish praise
of Marinya.

" But then," he added — " you are such a devoted friend
of liers."

'' And yours ! And yours ! " she exclaimed. " Speak
frankly, very frankly, has she, or has she not made a last-
ing impression upon you ? "

" Upon me ? Candidly — yes — a very strong one !"

" Ah I you see ! '' replied Panni Bigel, her face beaming-
witli pleasure.

'' See wliat ? I see nothing. True, I liked her very
much, indeed. You, of course, can understand, what a
sympathetic dear soul she is, and so kind. But what's to
be done ? I cannot make another journey to Kremen. I
left the village in a rage. I handled Plavitzki and his
diuighter in such rough manner as to preclude any possi-
bility of my return."

" You liave insulted them."

"• More than was necessary."

" You can apologize in a letter."

"I write a letter to Plavitzki and make apologies?
Never in my life ! that man heaped curses upon me."

" He cursed you ? "

" Yes, as the patriarch of the family, in his own name
and in the name of all his ancestors before him. Besides,
I feel such a repugnance for the man, that 1 could not
write to him two lines. He is an old pathetic comedian.
I miglit have asked her forgiveness, but to what purpose ?
She must sustain lier father, I am well aware of that. The
best she can do is to write me a cold formal letter accept-
ing my apologies, and tliat will end the matter."

'* As soon as Emilya returns from Reichenhall we will
probably hit upon some palpable excuse to bring lier here.
It will tlien be an easy task to clear up the misunder-
standing."

*' Too late I Too late I " I gave myself a word of honor

I IJiiW' I

•if.

-J

to sell my mortgage on Kremen, and I shall certainly
do it.

*' Perhaps this will be for the best."

" No, it will be for the woi-st ! " remarked Bigel. " But
I will make no effort to dissuade him. 1 hope he will not
find a buyer."

*' In the meantime Emilya will return with her Lida."

And turning to Polanetzki, Panni Bigel added: "you
will see how inferior other girls will seem to you in com-
parison with Marinya. Though I am not as intimate with
her as Emilya, I will try to induce her to confess what
she thinks of you."

This closed the conversation. On his return home
Polanetzki, not without astonishment, discovered that
Marinya occupied the place of honor in his heart. He
could think of nothing else. And yet he felt that their
acquaintance was formed and almost severed under such
unfavorable circumstances, that it would be best to banish
every thought of this girl, ere it was too late. As a man,
strong, and sober-minded, with a tremendous will-power,
he was not accustomed to cherish dreams simply because
they were pleasant and fascinating. Accordingly he
resolved to investigate the state of affairs thoroughly,
without pj'ejudice. True, the young girl possessed all
those qualities he demanded from his future wife, and
therefore, he admired her. But she also had a father he
could not digest ; she would also bring with her a trouble-
some burden instead of a dowry — Kremen with all its
debts and obligations.

" I could not live one day with that pathetic monkey,"
— thought he, '' not one single day, for only two styles of
conduct are possible with him ; one must either yield in
everything, which I am not able to do, or quarrel with him
from dawn till dusk, as I did in Kremen. In the first
event, I, a man, independent and quick-tempered, could
scarcely be expected to pay homage to an old egotist. In
the second, the life of ni}'^ wife would indeed become a tor-
ture, and our marriage a disnr.il failure."

" I hope," he added to hiniself, '•'that this is a sensible,
logical conclusion, which could only be wrong and defi-
cient were I already over ears in love. But I think I am

i certainly

?el. "But
le will not

ler Lida."
ed : " vou
u in corn-
mate with
fess what

ii'n home
Jied that
3art. He
;hat their
ider such
to banish
Ls a man,
11-power,

because
ngly lie
►rouq-lily,
3.ssed all

ife, and
atlier he

trouble-
h all its

onkey,"
tyles of
yield in
ith him
the first
could
ist. In
le a tor-

3nsible,
id defi.
k I am

not. I am neither conquered nor in love. This makes
all the difference in the world. Ergo : I sliall cease
thinking of her, and let her marry the man of her choice,
and — be happy I " But no sooner was this thought
clothed in words tlian a disagreeables feeling again {)ressed
his heart, and he thought, ''and yet it is very natural that
I do think of her. I have lived through in my day
many an unpleasant moment, and I shall soon foi'get her."
He soon noticed, however, that beside the un[)leasant
feeling of regret and remorse, there lemained within his
heart a feeling of pity for himself, for those beautiful vis-
tas that showed themselves to his exalted imac^ination
only to vanish again. Now it appeared to him as if some
one suddenly lifted the curtain of his future and then
just as suddenly let it drop again, and his life returned to
its old course, which leads nowhere, or leads — to empti-
ness and desolation. Polanetzki felt that the philosopher
Vaskovski was right in his assertion tliat money serves
only as a means to live, but tliat beside and above it there
is a living puzzle, which might be solved. There nmstbe
a certain goal, a certain important problem, the solution
of wliich in a quiet, simple way leads to perfect rest and se-
renity of soul. This rest is the soul of life ; without it life
is senseless, worthless. In a certain sense, Polanetzki was
merely tlie child of his age, /. e.^ he ca.ried in his bosom
a })art of that consuming restlessness which in modern days
may be called the plague of mankind. The massive foun-
dations on which life rested in olden times were in the
eyes of Polanetzki crumbling down. And he gro[)ed in the
darkness, doubting whether true faith was or was not giving
place to a rationidism that stumbles on every stone it meets
on its road. He sought for that faith lie pined for, but
found it not. He differed from the modern " decadents "
only in that he was never disillusioned or disappointed
in liimself, in his nerves, in his doubts, in the drama of his
soul ; that he did not seek nor did ho obtain a licensed
diploma for weakness and laziness. He had some vague
feelings tliat life, whatever its subtle meaning might
be, mysterious or not, must be fidl of labor and activity.
He thought that if be could iind no answer to the vari-
ous questions, he still Avas compelled to do something.

fi«.i

Activity might then serve as an answer, perhaps illogi-
cal, but at least strong enough to free the man thus
inclined of all responsibility that remained. The building
and bringing up of a family and the mutual labors and du-
ties, either one or the other, must to a certain degree be
considered a law of human nature, or men would never
marry, would never care to form acquaintances. Such
philosophy, strengthened by tlie sound, sensible, manly
instincts of Polanetzki, pointed to marriage as the main
goal of life. There were moments when Marinya seemed
to lum that haven to which his ship was sailing, struggling
with fog and darkness through stormy winter nights.
Now, when he thought with bitterness tliat the lights on
that haven were not for him, that he must sail on, begin
anew his voyage over unknown, turbulent seas, he was
seized with a feeling of pity and pain. But his philosophy
cheered him, consoled him. He found it logical, though
he went to bed witli the conviction that this is not it, that
the time has not come yet.

The next day he went to dinner as usual, and found in
the restaurant Vaskovski and Bukatzki, who were soon
joined by Masliko, witli his appearance of a preoccupied
business man, his long side-whiskers, a monocle, flushed
red cheeks, and a white waistcoat. Polanetzki at once
became the center of the little group. After a cordial
greeting and an exchange of immediate news, Polanetzki's
journey to Kremen was the absorbing topic of conversa-
tion. Tliej^ were all acquainted with the motive of the
two ladies in sending him off to Plavitski,and they knew
Marinya. When Polanetzki related his experience, and
with a sad smile looked at his friends as if eliciting com-
ments, Bukatzki phlegmatically remarked : " Then it
means war ! This young lady affects my nerves, and I
think it is high time for me to go courting. A woman
who travels upon a stormy path will sooner accept a
proffered hand than her more fortunate sister whose
road is smooth."

Propose to her ! " impatiently suggested Polanetzki.
You see, my dearest, there aie three obstacles in my
way. First, Emilya is yet playing havoc with my nerves;
second, I suffer every morning from an awful pain on tho

(;
((

ips illogi-
iiaii tlius
) building
s and du-
legree be
lid never
is. Suc-li
e, manly
the main
a seemed
;rnggling
f nights,
lights on
>n, begin
, he was
lilosophy
, though
»t it, that

'ound in
ere soon
occupied
, flushed

at once

cordial

metzki's

oiiversa-

of the

y knew
ice, and
ng com-

lien it
5, and I

woman

ccept a
whose

etzki.

in my
nerves;
on the

((

lower part of my liead, Avhieli betrays unmistakable symp-
toms of brain disease; and, third, 1 am })enniless."

" You — penniless ? "

" At least for the time being. I bought a few marvels
in scul[)tuie, all avant la Icth'f, and have reduced my-
self to penuiy for the rest of the month. And if I get
some other art-gems from Italy, for which I have already
begun negotiations, I shall be a beggar for a year to
come."

Vaskovski, whose features, or his complexion resembled
somewhat tliat of Mashko, though he was mucli older,
and his face was more pleasant, turned upon liukatzki
his clear blue eyes, and said :

And tliis is also a disease of the age. '
CoUectioi'ism and collections everywhere I "

" Oh, we are threatened with a lecture ! " said Masliko.

*' Well, we have little else to do," replied Polanetzki,
good-humoredly.

" What have you to say against the love for collec-
tions?" asked Hukatzki.

"Not nuieh I'' replied Vaskovski. This is an anti-
quated and yet well-preserved habit in our days, to worship
the fine arts. But don't you think that this mania savors
of the ancient? I think it is very characteristic. Years
ago this mania wao considered an avt per se, which all cul-
tivated and admired, wherever it was exhibited, in muse-
ums, in temples. In our da}-- we make collections for our
private cabinets and lilji-aries. Before, the mania for col-
lecting rarities died with the satisfaction of the passion.
Now it begins at this and ends in eccentricity. I do not
allude to Bukatzki. At the pi'csent time every urchin,
as soon as he saves up a few pennies, branches out as
a collector of something. Often the objects are not
attributes of fine art, but simply its odlities, its freaks.
You see, my friends, it always appeared to me, that love
and idolatry, love and dilettanteism are two different
tilings, and I insist tiiat the nrm who idolizes Vv^omen is
not capable of nobler feelings.

" Yes, this is possible. Tiiere is a grain of truth in
what you say," remarked Polanetzki.

*' This concerns me but little " said Mashko, j)assing his

fingers througli liis Eiiglisli side-wliiskcrs. " In tliose state-
ments I i)erc'eive first of all the liiiit of an old pedagogue
at the Talhicies of modern times."

"Pedagogue, you said?" repeated Vaskovski. First,
let me remind you, tliat ever since a piece of l)read was
dropped down upon me, as if from the skies, I lesigned
the dignified position of spanking cliildren and acting the
part of a tyrant; second, you are certainly wrong in your
presumption, I make no liints. I follow witli pleasure and
note every new sym[)tom of the approach of the end of
our epoch and the dawn of a new era."

" On tlie contrary, we are just now struggling with the
waves in open sea and cannot reach the shore," said
Masliko.

" Leave him alone ! " remarked Polanetzki.

But Vaskovski, notiitall confused or rattled, continued :
" Idolatry leads to unnatural refinement, and in tliat re-
finement I see the death of all grand ideals, wliich give
place to a low vulgar desire to make capital out of them.
This is all mere paganism, but no one will voluntarily
admit that we are returning to paganism.

And Vaskovski, wliose eyes were as clear and transparent
as a child's, reflecting onl}^ superficial objects, always
focussed on the infinite, turned them now to the windows,
through which were seen tlie gray clouds w^ith the sun
rays struggling through them.

'^ What a pity that my head aches so often," said Bu-
katzki. " It ought to be an interesting era, but I will not
live to witness it."

But Mashko who called Vaskovski " a saw," felt bored
with his pliilosopliical outpourings generously offered on
every possible and impossible occasion. He delved into
his side-pocket, got out a cigar, and lighting it, said to
Polanetzki: "Listen, Stacli, do you really wish to sell
your mortgage on Krtmen ? "

" Most assuredly. But wliy do you ask ? "

" Because I am considering it."

" You ? "

" Yes. You know that I frequently ' reflect ' upon such
things before I decide. We may return to the subject
again. Naturally I can tell you very little to-day. But

lOse state-
ediigo<rue

i. First,
nend was
resigned
ctino" the
g ill your
isure and
e end of

with the
re," said

ntinued :
1 til at re-
lioh give
of tliem.
luntarily

n spare nt

always

iiidows,

the sun

aid Bu-

will not

t bored
ered on
ed into
said to
to sell

to-morrow I will order a soarcli of the records of Krenien,
which will enable nie to tell you just wliat can l)e done.
Perhaps you can dro[) in to-morrow after dinner, and we
will talk the matter over."

'• All right. If it can be managed, I wish it done in as
short a time as [)ossible, for as soon as my atYairs are satis-
factorily arranged, I intend to leave the city."

'^Whither?" asked Hukatzki.

*'I don't know. The heat is very oppressive here.
Somewhere in the country or to the seashore."

''That is also an old su[)erstition," said liiikatzki. " In
the city there is always plenty of shade on one side of the
street, which the village cannot boast. I always walk on
the shady side and keep cool. I never leave the city for
the summer."

"' And you, are you going anywhere?" asked Polanetzki
of Vaskovski.

"On the contrary, Panni Chavastovska persuaded me
to 3(/in her in Reichenhall. I may heed hei' advice."

"In such case, pei'init me to keep you company. It is
all the same to me wliere I go. Though I like Sal/bui-g,
yet the company of Eniilya and Lida will fully offset the
advantao-es of Salzburo-."

Bukatzki stretched forth his transparent hand toward the
toothpicks, took one from tlie glass, began to pick his
teeth, and fuiall}' said in the most indifferent tone :

"Envy is consuming me. I am ready to follow you.
P)Ut, beware ! Polanetzki, lest I should explode, like a
dynamite mine."

In the words and tone of Bukatzki there was so much
misery, that Polanetzki burst out laughing, and said:

"It never entered my mind, that one could fall in love
with Chavastovska."

"Woe to you both !" solemnly replied Bukatski, pick-
ing his teeth.

in such
subject
But

CHAPTER V.

The next day after an early dinner at Bigel's, Polanet-
zki, at the appointed hour, went to Mashko,

It was evident tlia' lie was expected ; for in the study
of the lawyer a gorgeous coffee service was on the table,
as Avell as glasses for liquor.

Mashko was busv, lioldiri-7 a conversation with some
ladies. Indeed, Mjishko's voice and the female voices
now and then were heard through the open door of the
reception room. Polanetzki began to examine the por-
traits on the walls, supposed to lepresent the ancestors of
Maslik ■. These ancesters were the subject of many a
malicious satire, for the la^A ver's friends had their doubts
about the identity of the portiaits. Especially, a certain
cross-eyed prelate inspired Bukatzki to make many an
extempoianeous joke, but Masko took no offense at it.
He was determined, somehow or other, to unload upon the
world his own august person plus his ancestors and his
genius, being well aware, that, th(*ugh the society which
tolerated him may poke fun at him it wi]] never dare to
accuse him openly of jjietentiousness. Possessing an
enormous energy and boundless audacity, besides a genuine
capacity for arranging business affairs, he decided that
those qualities alone aacic sufficient to advance In'm on the
social ladder. His enemies called liim a fiaud, but if he
was guilty of the chaige, he was unconscious of it.
Descending from a family whose claim to nobility was
doubtful, he treated condescendingly men of a liighei and
nobler origin, as if he eclipsed them with the gloiy of his
own name ; and men of wealth, as if his oaau fortune was
much the larger, and his contract witli Dame Eojtune
would never expire. H(; was very cautious not to overdo,
and avoided exaggerations that are c. owned by lidicule,
and the center of his actions grew and expanded. At
last he seemed to reach his goal. He was received every-

Polanet-

lie study
he table,

itli some

le voices

Di' of tlie

the por-

cestors of

many a

ir doubts

a certain

manv an

Lse at it.

upon the

jind his

ty which

[■ dnie to

ssing an

\ genuine

(led that

ini on tlie

)Ut if he

of it.

lity "VNas

vlici and

y of his

une \^as

Foitune

ovcido,

ridicule,

d. At

1 every-

where, was trusted with largo sums of money, which
hel[)ed to build his caveei-. His earnings were formidable,
but money he did not hoard, lie deemed iliis ])r('nuiture,
recognizing that he must stake all for the sake of a future
that would fully compensate him for all tem[)()rary losses.
True, he did not s{puinder his money, claiming ihal in
such nuuuier only the [)arvenues ho[)e to dazzle the world ;
but wlierever it was necessary he proved himself g(Mierous.
He was also considered very accurate and punctual in his
transactions. This was due to his hiviia credit that
enabled hiui to indulge in vast s])ecuhiUons. He feared
nothing, and possessed, beside his boldness and dc^ter-
miuiitioii, also a profound faith in his own good luck.
Sucessful operations strengtiiened this belief.

The moving spirit of his life was rather an inborn light-
miiideduess, than greed for wealth. Of course, he longed
to be rich, but more for the sake of being known as an
aristocrat, a sort of English peer. With that purpose he
even altered his outward a[)j)earance. and i)rided himself
on his abject ugliness, whicli he imagined to be the stamp
of aristocracy. In his tliick li[)S, wide nostrils and red
cheeks there was something unusual, sometliing truly
original. There was a certain streULith, a i-oui-li viu'or
hidden in Ins features which often denote the Enulislnnan,
and that accounted for the fact that, wearing a monocle,
he raised his face upward.

At first Polanetzki could scarcely endure him, but
gradually he grew accustomed to him, because Abishko
acted towards him with more reserve than towards the
rest. It might have been tlie acknowledgment of a deeper
respect, but it might also liave l)een a fear to gain the
animosity of a man so easily proNoked as Polanetzki.
At length, meeting frequently, the young nu-n grew
accustomed to eacli other's fallacies, jiiid toleiatiMreiich
other with more or less giace. When Mashko took leave
of his tair clients and entered the dininnf-room, he at once
lyested himself of his majestic; airs, and, greeting Poliiiiet-
zki (piite heartily, began to chat like aa ordinary mortal,
without his usual [)retensioi

Oh, th

ose wonuMi

IS.

iios(» women

C'cst t

nil

OUJOUl'S

le mer i\ boire ! (always a bitter drop). 1 invested their

e,ft
►'■■ ' ■

"'%:

Capital and pay them their interest in the most punctual
manner, but once a week, at tlie very least, they pay nie
a visit to inquire whether there had not been an earth-
quake."

" Well, what good news have you got for me?"

" First, let's have a cup of coffee."

And Mashko a[)plied a match to the spirit burner under
the coffee-urn, then added :

*'I will waste but few words with you. I have seen the
records. It is not an easy matter to collect the debt, but
tlie money is positively safe. Of course, tlie collection
will involve expense. I therefore cannot give you the
full amount. My offer is two-thirds of the capital, to be
paid in three payments within one year's time.

"I told you that 1 would sell the claim at all hazards,
even at a greatei* sacrifice. I acce[)t your offer. When
will you make the h-st payment?"

*' Within thi-ce montlis.''^'

" Very well. In such case I will leave with Bigel a
power of attorney, for I am going away."

"Ah! vou are going to KeichenhaU?"

*' Probablv."

" Bukatzki then furnished you with a sensible idea this
time."

" Every man has Ins own ideas. Let's take you, for in-
stance. Why do you buy this debt of mine ? Is it not a
mere bagatelle of a transaction for you ? "

Among large transactions smaller ones are often made.
This is business. You know that my social position, as
well as my credit, are iirndy established. But both will
gain abundantly, when among my other possessions, there
will be the title to a ])ie(M3 of land, such as Ki'emen.
Some time ago I lieard Pkwit/.ki express a desire to sell
Kremen. I should judge he is more eager to dis|)ose of

it now. The estate can be bought for a sono-

-a

roubles added to the debt, an ainiuitv. However, we'll
see ! 'I'lu'u when the estate lias been restored to [)erfect
condition, like a liorse for the market, it will be offered to
the hiufhest bidder. In tlu; nuNintime, I \\ill be a land-
owner, a title which, <'Htni HonK, I Ijadly need just now.
Polanetzki listened to Mashko with ill-concealed dis-

■i

punctual
; pay nie
111 earth-

ler under

seen the
{le])t, but
'ollectioii

vou tlie
tal, to be

hazards,
. When

. Bigel a

idea this

n, for in-
it not a

'11 made,
sitioii, as
)()th will
lis, there
Krc'iuen.
e to bell
is[)ose of
— a few
'er, we'll
I [K'rft'ct
ffeied to
3 a laiid-
:. now.
aled dis-

■^

pleasure, then he said: "T must be candid; the purchase
of Kremen will not be an easy task to i)erform. Marinya
Plavitzki has set her heart against it. She, like the aver-
age woman, is in love with her old nest, and will do her
utmost to resist the sale of Kremen."

" What of it? At the worst I shall become Plavitzki's
creditor, but do not fear that my pocket will suffer there-
by. First, I can follow your course, and sell tlie claim.
Then, as a law3'er, I have better chances to collect it my-
self by pointing out to Plavitzki the means to settle."

'' Of course you can foreclose the mortgage and then
auction olT the estate."

" Yes, this could bo done, if T were not jMashko.
Mashko must refrain from such an act. No, sir! 1 will
discover other means, which perhaps even the daughter
of Plavitzki may indorse. By the way, I highly esteem
and ai)[)re('iate Mie young lady."

Polanetzki, who at that moment sipped his coffee, sud-
denl}' put his cu[> on the table.

'^ Ah I " exclaimed he, ''one may become the owner of
Krennjii by such means."

And ao'aiii he was seized with a feeliiiGf of anofer and
dislike. His first impulse was to arise and say to Mashko :
*' 1 do not sell my claim," and leave ; but he controlled
himself, while Mashko, stroking his side-whiskers, con-
tinued: 'AVhat if I should ado[)t that way of proceed-
ing? P)Ut I give 3'ou my word of lionor, that at this
moment I have no tangible plan ; or rather, I have not
made it clear to myself yet. I made Paniia Plavitzka's
ac([uaiiitanee in Warsaw during the w^inter, and she at-
t'-aeted me verv niiieh. Slu; I'.om.s from a line familv, and
while their estate is on the verge of ruin, it can be saved
and put in good oi'der again. Who knows? It is a mere
idea, similar to others. I>ut I will now, as always lu.'lore,
remain loyal to you. You went to Kremen, supposedly to
collect money, but it was an opi'U secret why you were
sent tliere. However, you came back eniiu'-ed like a
demon, and T tlierefore infer tliat you liave no intentions
in that dirc^ction. If you will say that my judgment is
wrong, I will abandon at once, not my plan, for I re[)(;at
I have none, but every thought of it, as something utterly

'J,

impossible of realization. You have my word of honor.
If, on the contrary, my judgment is right, do not cling to
the principle of *•' neither 1 ror you," and do not stand in
the way of the young girl. Now, I am ready to listen to
you."

Polanetzki recalled his doubts and arguments of j-ester-
day, and tliought tliat Mashko was right in liis claim, that
he, Polanetzki, dare not stand between tlie girl and good or
ill fortune. lie was silent for a few moments, then said:

" No, Mashko, I liave no intentions, whatsoever, concern-
ing the young lady in question. You may marry her, or
you may not. Tliis is your affair! But I will tell you
frankly, tliat I object to one thing, your Avay of buying
the debt. I believe, that your plans are not formed yet;
but wlien tliey do form it will not look well. It will have
all the appearance of a tra[) skilfully laid, like a net.
However, as I said, this is your own affair.

" So much my own that if that assertion was made by
anyone else, I \vould take pains to remind him of the fact.
And yet, I assure you, that were I to decide upon some such
plan, the probability of which I verj' nuuh dcmbt, I would
not bid for the hand of Plavitzki's daughter, as a sort of
payment for the interest on the debt. If I have the right
to say conscientiously that I would buy the estate under
any and all circumstances, this will give me a free hand
for action. ]^ut iirst of all, let's talk business. I wish to
buy Kremen because I need it. To employ all honest
means to further that end — is my privilege."

" Very well. I am ready to sell it. Order the agree-
ment drawn, and send or bring me a copy of it for peru-
sal."

" The agreement is being drawn up now by one of my
clerks. A little patience, and we will be able to read it,
and attach our signatures thereto."

Fifteen minutes later the agreement was examined, and
signed by both parties. That evening Polanetzki spent
with the Bigels, and was again in a very ugly mood.
Bigel's wife could not conceal hov disuppointment, while
Bigel himself, contcm})lating with his characteristic cor-
rectness, towards the end of the evening, remarked :

" There is uo doubt that Mashko, among othei-s, also

)f honor,
cling to
stand in

listen to

if yester-
iiiin, tliiit

good or

len said:

concern-

y her, or

tell you

buying
ned yet ;
vill have
e a net.

made by
the fact,
nie such
I would
I sort of
he right
u under
ee hand
wish to
honest

agree-
3r peru-

3 of my
read it,

entertains that j)lan you suggested. He may be perfectly
honest in his denials, for such ideas may exist, without
him knowing of their real value."

*'God save Marinya from Mashko ! " said Paiini r>igel.
*' We all understood, when Marinya was here, that he was
attracted by the girl."

*' I was convinced," said Bigel, " that a man like
Mashko would look for a biide with a splendid dowry, but
api)arently, I was mistaken. It is more likely now that
his dream is to acquire through his wife close connection
with a family of renown, in oider to gain a firmer foot-
hold in society; and moreover, linally become its leader.
Tnis is not a bad speculation on the face of it for one who
commands such an extensive credit. In time he might
succeed in getting a clear title to Kremen, liquidating all
its encumbrances."

" Your wife mentioned, a while ago," added Polanetzki,
"■that Mashko thinks the world of Marin^-a. I recall now
that Plavitzki spoke about it in the same vein."

-' You see now," said Panni iiigel. *' What do you pro-
pose to do ? "

" Nothing. If Panna Plavitzka will fii u his suit agree-
able, she will become his wife."

"And you?"

** In the meantime I will go to ReichenhaU."

ed, and

spent

mood.

, while

ic cor-

re, also

CHAPTER VI.

>#.

And, indeed, a week afterwards, Polaiietzki took his
departure for Reiclieiihall. Refoie he left Warsaw he re-
ceived a hitter from Paiini Cliavastoska inquiring about
the result of his journey to Krenien. He was also in-
formed that Mashko hastened to Kremen, which bit of
news affected him more tlian he expected. True, he
promised himself to forget ]\hi]'inya as soon as he reached
Vicinia, ])ut failed to do so. He thought so much about
the possibility of Marinya marrying IVlashko that his first
act after he reached Salzburg was to dispatch Bigel a
letter, presumably of a business nature, in which, liow-
ever, he dwelt more on Mashko's exi)edition to Kremen
and its result. Thanks to his preoccupiition with the one
a])s()i'bing thought of Marinj^a, he listened lialf-heartedly
to his sojourner Vaskovski, who discoursed about the rela-
tions of the Austrian empire to the world at large and its
inodei'u mission. Frequently Polanetzki's answers were
not in ])lace, corresponding little with tiie old man's pro-
j)ounded inquiries. Polanetzki was astounded by the
discovery that Marinya's face was constantly before his
eyes. He saw her stately, graceful figure, her pink
li[)S with the birth-mark. He looked into her clear
blue eyes, which reflected the earnest attention she paid
to his words. He remend)ered even her dress, and tlie
ti[)S of her shoes looking out from under it, lier tender
though slightly tanned hands, aiul her daik curls with
which the breeze played in the garden. He never sus-
pected that he had such a sensitive mcmoiy, which re-
tained for such a length of time every detail of a person
seen and observed for a brief period. Naturally it
also served as evidence that the impression was deep.
There were moments when the thought flashed through
his mind that all the charms he pictured to himself in his
mind would come into the possession of Mashko. His

ook his

v lie re-
g about
also in-
i bit of
rue, lie
readied
1 about
lis fn'st
Bioel a
li, liow-
vitnieii
the one
artedly

e rela-
aiid its
s -were

s pro-
by the
)ie his
l)iiik
clear
e paid
id the
tender
with
|er sus-
eh re-
)ersoii
illy it

deep,
rough

in liis
His

first impulse was then to prevent it at any cost, but soon
he remembered with despaii-, that the affair was settled for
good, that he must banish Marinya from his thoughts for-
ever.

Polaiietzki and Vaskovski arrived in Reichenhall early
in the morning, and, tlirough a ha[)py coincidence, before
they had time to inquire of Panni Cliavastovska's where-
abouts, met the lady herself and her daughter Lida in the
local park. Panni Chavastovska was taken wholly by sur-
prise, and plainly showed her delight on meeting Polan-
etzki, whom she did not expect. But this {.deasure soon
gave place to anguish and alarm, when her little idol, who
was an invalid suffering from heart disease aiid asthma,
was so excited at the sight of her old friend, that she
fainted, her heart beating wildly. But such attacks were
unfortunately frequent occurrences lately, and when it
passed, the little group i-egained their merry mood once
more. On their return home from the])ark, the little girl
held Polaiietzki's hand iu her own, and her eyes, us' /dly
dark and sad, sparkled with joy. From time to ^ime
l^ida pressed that manly hand, as if wishing to convince
herself that its owner really came to Reichenhall and was
now at her side. Panni Cliavastovska was unable to
wedge in a single word or question about KienuMi ; nor
could Polanetzki satisfy her curiosity, for Lida chattered
incessantly, showing her friend the beautiful [)]aces of
Ueichenhall.

''And this is nothing in comparison with Thumsee!
We nuist go there to-morrow. You will permit us, mam-
ma ? Will you not? I am quite strong again andean
\valk very well."

At times slie turned towards Polanetzki, and without
releasing his hand, looked at him with h(;r large thoughtful
eyes, and repeated : "Ah! PaiiStach! PanStachI"'

On his ])art, Polanetzki lecipi'ocated lavishly, and, like
an older brother, admonished her frequently, with nicjek
carm^stness.

" Not so fast, Lida, not so fast, my kitten, you'll get out
of l)reath aoain ! "

But Lida, clinging closer to him, and cursing her little
lips as if iu anger, whispered,

" Don't yon be so fust either."

Nevertliek'ss, PolaiK'zki unwilling'ly stole glances at
the beaming- countenance of Panni Cliavastovska, as if
wisliing to remind lier that lie liad some important news to
tell her. But the fond mother was loath to deprive liei"
adored child of the pleasure of her friend's company, and
disturbed them not. Only after dinner, which was served
in the garden amid a pi'< I'us.'on of flowers and the gay
t''itter of sparrows, s- /ski was describing to Lida the
life of birds, and i: ^ of them for Saint Francis

Assisi. The little gin xan^- interested, and su})porting
her head with her elbow, listened eagerly. Polanetzki sud-
denly turned to Panni Cliavastovska and said : " would
you like to take a walk to the other end of the garden ? "

" With pleasure," res]K»nd;;u the widow, and turning to
Lida: ''you, dearest, stay here with Pan Vaskovski, we
shall not be gone long." And off they went.

"Well, what's the news?" asked Panni Cliavastovska.

Polanetzki began his story, but, whether it was because
he wished to })lead his own cause, oi- because the thought
of Marinya touched a sensitive chord, he told his story in
a very unsatisfactory manner. 'J'rue, he confessed having
quarreled with Plavitzki before hisde[)arture, but neglected
to mention his rough-handling of Marinya, lavishing un-
stint'jd ])i'aise upon her, linally concluding: "As this
cursed debt caused the ru[)t ure between Plavitzki and me
Avhich cannot but affect liis daughter, I resolved to sell it,
which J did by making a deal with Mashko." Panna
Cliavastovska, who knew next to nothing about linancial
transactions, and being the incarnation of simplicity her-
self, I'eplied: "You have done very well, indeed, there
should be no questions of nnme}' between you two."

But heie Polanetzki felt ashamed at his own attempt to
mislead this naive, innocent soul.

"Yes, that is so! I think my action uas wrong.
Bigel does not apj)rove of it, either. JMashko may press
them; intimidate them; offer certain conditions, and at
last he may sell Kremen. No, I regret that act myself,
considering it to have been indelicate, and above all detri-
mental to our friendly relations. But 1 should have been
the lust man to do it, hud I not come to the conclusion,

mces at
ri, as if
news to
live Iier
'Uy, and
i serveci
tlie guy
/iciii tlie
Francis
porting
dd siid-
' would
rden ? "
ning to
Ivi, we

tovska.
•ecause
iiought
-ory ill
laviiig
;'lected
ig iin-
s tliis
nd me
sell it,
iniia
ancial
y her-
there

ipt to

rong.
press
id at
yself,
I e tri-
be en
sion.

$
'%

that it was an absolute necessity, tliat every thought of
Marinya was an idle fancy."

" Oh, no. Do not say that. I firmly believe in destiny,
and I believe that the Lord created you for each other."

*'I cannot understand it. But if it is so, what use is
there courting, doubting, ho[)ing and worrying, since, come
what may, I must mai-ry Marinya ? "

*' I doiTt know. Mine may be the mind of a foolisli
woman, and my words void of logic, but it seems to me
that God always arranges things for the contentment of
all concerned. He o\\\y leaves everything to the ill of the
men, who often do not want to follow their des.in thus
swelling the great number of unfortuiiates gr <» ;, ray."

" Quite possible. And 3'et it is easier tr ''oJow your
own conviction, than some one's else. — This i a torch-
light which God gave to us, to hold in our 'iixls. Who
can vouch that, under any circumstances, Mi.ii.iya would
have been mine? "

"I should have received her letter, giving her version
of your visit to Kremen. I hope it will arrive here to-
morrow, as our correspondence has the one commending
feature — puiK^luality.

"Did slie know that you were coming to Keichenhall?"

" Hardly. The fact is, ihat, being in Kremen, the idea
had not entered my mind."

" So much tlie better. She will, at any rate be sincere,
though she was never guilty of dui)licity."

This put an end to tlieir iirst day's conversation. Tn the
afternoon arrangements were perfected for next morning's
outiiiGf to 'I'humsee.

The party was to stai-t early, so as to reach the lake
at noon, in time for lunch, and return to lvei( lienhall on
horseback; or if Lida's condition would [)ermit, on foot.
Polanetzki and Vaskovski met at the villa next morning
at nine o'clock. Botli Panni Ghavastovska and her
daughter were all readv dressed and awaitincfthem on the
j)iazza. Hoth ladies looked so unusually well and striking
that the old ])edagogue was astounded.

" Evidently," stammered he, turning to Pohinetzki and
pointing to the ladies — "(iod sometimes ci-eates flowei-s
out of human beings." And indeed, Panni Chavastovska

t^\^\

i^ilM

and her daughter were tho objects of adnihatiou of the ^||

wliolo community of KeicheiiliiiU.

Tlie first witli her inspired iiiifrelic face looked tlie per-
sonification of love and maternal alYcction, and at the same
time a being liiohly exalted and dee[)ly religious. The
second, with her big languid eyes, blonde head and exceed-
ingly delicate tender features, resembled more an artistic
creation, than a living child. Bukatzki, the decadent,
said of her, that she was made of a mist that blushed be-
fore the morning's dawn. 'J'hcre was something ethereal
in that little girl. This im[)ression was strengthened by
her sickness and her exti'cme sensitiveness. She was the
idol of her mother, and pet of all her friends, but, unlike
many other children, she was not spoiled by that general
love and devotion. Poianetzki, who was a frequent
visitor at the widow's house in Warsaw, was sincerely
attached to Panni Chavastovska and her fair but sickly
dauo'liter. In Warsaw where the honor of a woman is less
thought of than in any other city, gossip mongers spinned
yarns about her of doubtful veracity. Panni Chavastovska
was as immaculate and pure as a child, and held her ex-
alted head high, as if not suspecting the existence of
evil. She was so pure that she could not understand the
necessity of probing for the causes or motives of the vile
slanders. She received most gracefully those who woa
the favor of Lida, and refused several good offers of mar-
riage, insisting that she needed nothing save her Lida.
Only one, I^ukatzki, consistently claimed, that the fair
widow affected his nerves. Poianetzki, however, felt
sui'-h a sincere reverence for her, that no other thought
about her as a woman had ever occupied his mind for a
second.

To Vaskovski's remark about the good looks of the
ladies, he lemarked:

*' They do look marvelously well to-day, indeed," and
greeting them in his usual cordial fashion, he said some-
thinix similar to Panni Ciiavastovska. Her face beamed
with })lea.sure as she smilingly said:

'' I have some news for you. Early this morning I
received a letter from Mariiiya, and brought it along to
let you have a glimpse of it."

''Does this mean that I am permittcl to read it?'*

''Certainly," she said, hanc^ing liim tliu letter.

The party of four in tlie nioantime were sh)\vly moving
toward Th" isee, passing' ah)ng tlie fort'st road. Panni
Cliavastovska, Lida, and Pan A'askovski, walked in front,
while Polanetzki, bending over his letter, followed behind.

Marin va wrote :

for

" jMy Dkakkst Emilya : — T am in receipt to-dav of vour
list of questions, to which I will endeavor to fuid fitting
replies. I will not lose any time, eitlier, as I am just as
eairer to unload some of mv own thouphts and impres-
sions. Polanetzki left us on Monday, /. e.. two days ago.
On the first evening, I received him, as I receive every
one, paying but little attention t') ihe matter, 'i'he next
day was Sunday. I was free, and we s[)ent half a day
not only together, but even alone, as pa[)a w^ent to the
Yamishes. 1 s(,'arcelv know what to tell vou. lie is so
sympathetic, so fraidc and outspoken ; he is, indeed, so
manly a man ! From what he said a])out you and Lida, I
understood him to possess a very kind, generous heart.
We took (juite along walk through the garden. I bandaged
his finger, which he cut, trying to move the row-boat, lie
spoke long and earnestly, and he s[)oke so eloquentl}^,
so interestingly, that I "was fascinated. Ah, my dear
Emilya I I am asliamed to confess that my poor little
head was cauqht in a whirl that evening;'. But vou know
that I am here all alone, that I work from morning till
night, and but seldom come in contact with such people.
It seemed to me that he came to us a harbinger from
another and better world. His conquest was com[)lete;
for the entire night I could not close my eyes, thinking of
him. The next morning he quarreled witli papa. I had
my share of his wrath, although (iod knows I would have
given anvthing to avert that misunderstandino-. At first
it dumfounded me, and if that bad man knew liow bit-
terly I cried in my room long afterward, he would study
have pitied me. Later I thoiight that he is a (piick-
tenq)ered man, that [)robal)ly it was papa's fault, and I
therefore bear him no malice. However, let me w]iis[)er
in your ear, dearest : Some inner voice tells me that he
6

will sell his claim to no one, if only for the privilej^e of
comiiii( liere ugfiiin. His quiinel willi papa I consider
trifling, niiinipoitant. Papa himself did not take it seri-
ously, for such is his peculiar manner of action, not dic-
tated hv his feelini»"s or convictions. In nie Pan Polanetzki
won a sincere friend, wlio will do lier utmost to see that,,
with the sale of Magyerovka, the motives for furtlier dis-
putes, an<l those hoi-rid financial wrangles, shall exist no
more. 'JMumi he will he compelled to come again, if only
to collect his money. Don't you think so? Perhaps he,
too, likes me just a wee little bit. Please do not tell him
anything. Don't scold him. I know not why I liave
such confidence in him, but I am convinced that he will do
us no harm, nor any to our dear old Kremen ; and it
further seems to me that this world would indeed be a
lovely place to live in if all men were as good as he.

" My sincerest love to you, my dear, and to Lida.
Write more particulars about the state of her health, and
love me as I do you. . . ."

Polanetzki put the letter in the side-pocket of his coat,
buttoned the latter, pulled his hat over his temples, and
suddenly felt a desire to break his cane into small frag-
ments and throw them into the stream. He did not do it,
but murmured through his closed teeth: "Yes, she knows
Polanetzki well, doesn't she ? Has confidence in him,
that he will do her no hai-m ! . . . Believe in him,
and how badly you'll fare ! " He paused for a moment,
then resumed again, showing himself no mercy: "It
serves j^ou right. She is an angel, and 3^ou are not worthy
of her ^ "

And again he was seized by that mad desire to break his
cane, tc do something desperate. He now saw clearly
that the heart of that young girl was ready to be his with
full confidence and hope, while he had wounded it, striking
her a most nainful blow, tlie memory of which will remain
and smart and ])ain forever.

To sell the debt was bad enough, but to sell it to a man
like Mashko, this was the same as saying to the young
girl : "I do not want you myself ; you may marry him if
you like." What a bitter disappointment it must have

ilecfe of
consider
i it seii-
iiot dic-
laiietzki
ee tliat,,
lier dis-
;xist no
if onlj'-
aps he,
;ell him
I Jiave
will do
and it
d be a

Lida.
til, and

is coat,
3S, and
1 fraq--
b do it,
knows
I him,
1 him,
^ment,
: "It
mrthy

ak his

leai-ly

; with
•ikincT

3maiu

I man
oung
im if
have

been to her after all that he said to her on that Sunday ;
after all those friendly confessions, intended to reach and
penetrate her heart. Polanetzki felt then that his words
had the desired effect. Of course, he could repeat to
himself now as often as he pleased, that he was under no
obliti-ations whatever ; that at the lirst conveisation with
a woman, the man, like a turtle, only sticks his nose out
to make an investigation, to feel his ground, but this
proved a poor consolation. Finally, he not only tired in
his efforts to justify himself, but was on the point of giv-
ing himself a sound and well-deserved thrashing. For the
first time he recognized the truth that it was witliin his
power to win Marinya's heart and hand, and the more that
possibility seemed real to him, the greater seemed the loss.
As soon as he linished reading the letter, a fierce struggle
took place within him. His protestations that he must
and would forget Marinya appeared ridiculous. With all
his faults, he possessed a kind heart, which this letter
touched to the (juick and set throbbing by its expression
of meekness, kindness, and readiness to forgive and even
love him.

''I veril}' believe, I will now fall in love with lier my-
self," he repeated as an answer to his own thoughts.

Polanetzki was in an excited frame of mind when he
rejoined his friends walking ahead of him. He surprised
Panni Chavastovska not a little, when he suddenly said:

" Pray, present me with this letter."

"With pleasure ! A lovely letter, is it not? Why did
you not confess that she got lier share of your rage before
you left Krenien ? But I shall make no attempt to scold
you. She ph ids for you herself."

"Ah, if it could only do me good, I would implore you
to use your whip. But it's too late now — everything is
lost ! "

Panni Chavastovska, however, did not share this opin-
ion. On the contrary, noticing the excitement of Pola-
netzki, she concluded that the affair in which she v, as in-
terested was progressing very favorably — that all would
end well.

" We'll see a few months later," she said, after a short
pause.

" You do not know what we may live to see," replied
Polanetzki, thinkiiiGf of Mashko.

"Only renieiiiljer one tiling, " she added seriously, "tliat
tl'O man wl»o wins ?>Iarinya will find her true forever, and
will never find an cx^easion to i-eg'ret it.

"I believe it. But just sueh iiearts, once wounded, will
never return to sincere friendship again."

Here their conversation was interrupted by tlic ap[)roach
of Lida and Vaskovski. Lida, as usual, inunediately took
j)ossessi()ii of Polanetzki. The forest, wi'apT)ed in the
white mist of a dewy morning, intei'ested her greatly, and
she began to ply Polanetzki witli questions about various
trees, exclaiming now and then :

"What beauties!"

" Yes, beauties," mechanically echoed Polanetzki. His
Jioughts busy elsewhere.

Climbing uj) a stee[) eminence, tlicy caught a glimpse
of Thumsee. Half ini hour i iter tlicy weie again on tlie
wide road by the l)aidcs of tli? lak(.', wliicli was in many
places connecited wilh the road by small bridges.
Lida long(;d to see tlie lish tliiit swam in tlie clear trans-
parent crystal-like de])ths. leaking her hnd, Polanetzki
mounted one of the bridges witli lier. U he iisli, accus-
tc- • ■■ U> tlie crund)s of bread lavishly thrown by tourist,
sh.' v';jd no fear, and soon beneath the little feet of IJda a
swarm of various lishcs collected, huge and small, ^ellow-
isli-g'oen and brown, with glistening backs, gai)ing with
their round eves, begging for crund)8.

''On our retuiii we will l)iing along several loaves of
bread," s;iid l/ida, "• l)ut how funny they are, gazing at us.
\Vhat can they be thinking of? "

'" 'I'hey think very slowly," J'eplied Polanetzki. "In an
liour or two they ^^'ill be thinking that they were observed
by a [)relty lit lie blonde giii in a little pink dress and
black stockings."

"An(' what will they think of you?"

"That 1 am a irvpsv, because mv hair is coal-black."

*' No, you are not a gyi)sy. (ivpsics have no homes."

"Nor have I. 1 could have hiid one, but I sold it,"

Polanetzki uttered the last NMuds in. a })iculia.r tone,
and in his vuice there was so much sadness, thy littlo

replied

y, *' tliat
ver, and

led, will

Lp[)roacli
el}^ took
I in tlie
.tly, and
various

:i. Ilis

glimpse

on tlie

n many

bridges.

r tiiins-

anetzki

accus-

oiirist,

Li da a

}ell()\v-

g with

tves of
at us.

In an

served
s and

es/'

tone,
little

(tmI looked at liini closely, and on lu r ex[.ressive, sensitive
eonntenauee there was a retleelion of lliat siuhiess, as the
clear water of the lake gave back tlie rcilection of lier little
iigure. Afterward, when they joined tlie rest, she cast at
linn from time to time her restless and inquiring eyes.
At length, squeezing his hand, which she held, she asked
in a trembling voice :

-What is the matter?"

" Xotliing, my pussy. I only look at the lake too inter-
ested to s[)eak."

•' And I was so delighted yesterday with the plan of
showing you Tlinmsee I "

" That is why I am looking at it in admiration. Though
there are no mountains here, it makes a very pretty scene.
What little house is that on the other side of the lake ? "

'* We're going to have our lunch there."

In the meantime, Paiini Chavastovska was merely (ihat-
teriiig with Pan Vaskovski, who carrying his hat in his
hand, searched every minute in his[)()ckct for his kerchit^f
to wipe the peis])i ration from his bald head. He spoke
to her about liukal/.ki.

-He is an Aryan, and that is why he is in a state of
perpetual restlessness. Now \\() is stricken with a mania
for coUectting [jietures, rare stanqis, gems of scul[)ture and
othci- rarities ; hoping to lill with them his growing emj)-
tiness. Ah ! I'aiini Chavastovska. What falls to my lot
now to see and hear ! 'J'hesii childrtui of our M,<re con-
('(nil in their souls an ab3ss like this lake, which is bottom-
less, and tliiidc that it can be tilled up w ith pictuics, sculp-
tur(.'S, Baudelaire, Ibsen, Maeterlinck and, what is woisc,
with sclent ifu! dilettanteism. They remind me of sick
birds, who break their heads upon the walls of their narrow
cages. Hut, to my mind, this ei'fort to lill up llie gap
caused by their own emptiness is as futile, as senseh'ss, as
would be the attem[)t to dam tliis lake with one little
stone."

- Hut what then, can lill our life?"

" h^very grand idea, (;veiy great emotion, based on the
condition that they have the'.i- origin with Christ. If
iJukatzki loved art in a real Chiistian fashion, it would
liiford to liiin that rest he is su vainly seeking."

'till

.. i

"Have you spoken to liini about it?"

" I (lid, and a))out many other tilings. I have tried to
prevail upon liini and n[)on Pohmctzki more than once to
read the life histoiy of Saint Fi'aneis Assisi. liut they
heed me not, and laugh at my suggestion. And yet he
was a man, born in the Middle Ages, who converted tlie
whole world. If we had now anotiier man like liim, the
return to Christ would be widespi-ead and complete.'*

It was almost noon, and tlie heat luid increased. The
lake became mirror-like in its clearness, absorbing the
bright lays of the sun, and reflecting the blue skies, it
look(!d as if suid^in sweet reveries, quiet, calm, motionless.

They (inally readied tlie g.irden andhouse, and sat down
around a table in the shade of a large tree. Polanetzki
called the waiter, who ap[)eared in a dirty-white frock-coat,
and ordered dinner to be served immediately; after \\liich
they all began to admire the beauty of the surrounding
scenery. Within two yards of their table grew iris,
watered by a fountain erected between the locks. Panni
Chavastovttka looked with longing eyes at the blooming
flowers.

" Wlienever I am near this lake and look at the beau-
tiful iris, I cannot help dreaming that I am in Italy."

'^Because no other coinitry has so many lakes, and so
many irises," said Pohinetzki.

" Nor so much delight for every mortal," added Yas-
kovski. " For a number of years I made my pilgrim-
age thither every autumn in search of a resting-place
for my last days. A huig time I hesitated in my decision
between Perugia, and Assisi ; but lastyear I selected Rome,
the ante-chamber of that world, where another, better
world is seen. I will po there acfain in October."

"I envy you," said Panni (Miavjistovska.

"Why, your Lida is twelve years old — '^ began Vas-
kovski.

"And three months," interru[)ted Lida.

" And three months, and allhough she is quite small for
]u*r age, and vivacious, she can be shown the various an-
ti(piities of Pome. Nothing remains so well engi'avcd on
your nuMUoi'v, as the scenes and objects you see in your
childhood. And, though a good many things iiro strange

1 tried to
u once to
Hut tliey
id yet he
erted the

him, the
ete.''

led. The
ibing" tlie
! akies, it
lotionless.

Silt down
'ohinetzki
i'ock-co[it,
ter whicli
L'l'ouuding
^rew iris,
s. Paiini
blooming

tlie beaii'

:dy."

).s, and so

(led Vas-
pilorim-

ing'-place
decision

cd Rome,
er, better

'gan V as-

small for

lions an-

raved on

in your

( strange

and incomprehensible, they are brouc^ht back to mind
from time to time, pleasant recollections of days gone by,
upon whicli a strong liglit was suddenly turned, after they
remained in the somber shadow of long years. Come with
me to Italy in October."

" In October, — I positively cannot. There are reasons,
— purely feminine, — that demand my presence in Warsaw
at that time.

'^ Feminine :' Wliat are they?"

" The first and most important is purely a woman's
reason, tlie marriage of Pan Polanet/.ki, wlio now sits sad
and heart biokcn as if lie was leally over ears in love."

Polanct'/ki seemed to awake from his slumber, and
pleadingly moved his hand. Vaskovski with the naivetd
of a child, asked :

" And th(! bride to be is Marinya Plavitzka, after all?"

" Yes," replied ]*a,inii (^havastovska. He was at Kremen
and in vain would he protest to us, that he is not con-
quered, captured, and enslaved."

'' I never intended to deny it," said Polanetzki. The
conversation was abruptly ended by the sudden lelapse of
\j\(hx. She became faint, hei' heart-beating took that dan-
gciouH turn, for which even the doctors had grave feai's.
Painu (^havastovska caught the girl in lier (rend)ling arms,
Polanetzki laii to the restaurant after som(^ ice, while
Vaskovski, puilliiig and almost falling over his burden,
carried a heavy garden bench, on which the fainting child
was laid.

"• Yon are tired, my dearest girlie," said her mother,
])ale and frightened. ''Is it not so? You see now, the
distance was too great for you. The doctor gave his jier-

missioii, it's true, but How warm it is here. It will

idl l)e over soon, my poor dear litth^ giii-"

And she began to kiss the perspiring face and brow of
the child. In the meantime l^olanetzki ictnnied with ice,
the mistress of tin* house followed him with a pillow,
liida was tenderlv laid down upon the bench in a, more
comfortable position, h(»r head on il/ j)illow. Panni
Chavastovska converted a napkin into ;; i impromj)tu ice-
bag. Polanetski bent over the [)rostrate form and whis-
pered : *' J low do you feel now, my kitten ? "

" I am suffocating — no air— but still better than before ! '*
replied Lida in a faint voice, opening licr little mouth and
breathing with difliculty.

Apparently, slie was not much better, for even through
lier dress her heart was seen beating violently. Tlianks
to the ice, ]iowevv:r, the attack was soon over, and the
danger avertcl. There remained only an extreme fatigue
and weakness. A smile ap[)eared on the i)aiched lips of
Lida, which gladdened tlie heart of her mother. To re-
store the strencfth ot" the child, Polanetzki ordered dinner
to be served at once, of whicli, however, no one partook
except Lida. All eyes were tnrned u[)on her with hope
and fear lest the attack should be renewed.

An hour passed. Gradually the restaurant was fdling
up with visitors. Panni Chavatsovska wislied to retnm
to the city, but a delay was unavoidal)le. The CMiriage
Polanetzki ordered had not ai'rived from Reichen]);iil. it
came at last to tiie relief of the mother and her aJa' nied
friends. On the road, the little company that had set out
with such happy expectations in the morning, was given
another scare.

The cairiage rolled on slowly, making but little pro-
gress, when tlie rough road and cou' tm*^ jolts caused an-
other relapse of Lida. She begge<' to ] e allowed to leave
the carriage ; but once on tiie grou.iU, proved too weak to
walk. Paiuii Cliavastovska decided to carr}^ her in her
arms. Polanetzki anticipated this self-sacrilice of the
mother, naturally frail and delicate.

" J^ida, my kitten, allow me to carry you, dear. You
don't want mamma to be sick, do you ?"

And iH)t waiting for an answer he raised her from the
ground, and carried her in his arms as if she was a fi!ather.

'jo convince both mother and daughtcu- that the burden
was not iieavy. he began to joke about the whole occur-
rence.

" *V))cu a little kitten like this crawls on tlie ground,"
saitl U' "ho hoks very small indeed, but now look at
her loni^ feet hanging dovvn. Embrace my neck, little one,
and yen will .lot shake so nuudi. '

And h'' put to test liis tremendous strengtli by walking
at an even and rapid gait, in order to place her as soon as

fr.

th
lai

n befoi'e ! '*
mouth and

111 tlnounrh
Thanks
!•, and the
ne fatigue
led lips of
ir. To re-
red dinner
le partook
with hope

was fdliiig
to retuin
LG carriai'-e
!n]);ill. 'Jt
iv ala' nied
ad set out
was given

little pro-
aused an-
1 to leave
) weak to
er in her
e of the

ar.

You

from the
a f(;ather.
le Ijurden
)le tx.'cur-

possible under tlie oaie of tlie doctor. He felt the beating
of lier lieart on his shoulder as he walked along, passing
from lio[)e to despair.

Meanwliile Lida, end)racing his neck with her tiny
hands, repeated sobbingly :

" Please, let me down oh, let me down please ! "

To which Polanetzki replied :

'' No, dear, I will not let you down ! Don't you see
tliat you cannot walk. After this we will take with us a
lars^e comfortable cliair on wheels, and as soon as our little
girl glows tired we will put lier in tlie chair, and I will
wheel her nicely and quietly home."

''No, no, not that!" repeated Lida with tears in her
eyes.

But Polanetzki carried lier with much tenderness, as
thougli he was her elder ])rother or father.

His heart was overflowing with sym[)athy, and a world
of new and strancfe emotions before unknown to liim not
only because liis love for the girl was genuine, l)nt the
thought just entered his mind, that married life had in
store for the ha{)[)y hus]>and and father treiisures of
happiness and bliss he could not now fully a[)preciate nor
understand. He felt, liowever, while carrying this d(;ar
yt't strange child, that (lod destined him to be a liusband
iiiid a father. That this was the briglit goal of hi life,
for which he must strive. And all his thouglits f w to
Marinya. It was clearer to Idm at tliat moment tli .i ever
before, tliat of all the women he liad met in his life, slie
alone was the spontaneous choice of his lieart. That she
alone could become his wife and the mother c**" his chil-
dren."

i ,.'

ground,"
v look at
ittle one,

walking
s soon as

CHAPTER VIT.

Ltda felt much improved tlie next day, but she was very
weak. On tlie advice of tlie doctor, slie took short
wallcs, refraining from long trips U}) tlie steep hills. Vas-
kovski, fearincT tlie worst, went to tlie doctor's house to
find out if possible the real condition of the little sufferer.
Polanetzki impatiently awaited him in tlie reading-room ;
and when at last lie came his face foieboded no good.
The news lie brouii'lit was not of a consolinn- nature.

"The doctor sees no danger at present," said the old
pedagogue, "but predicts an untimely death for the child.
He orders a constant and ceaseless watch ; for no one can
foretell the day or the moment when 'v sudden attack will
end this young liTo."

"How unfortunate! Wliat a blow! exclaimed Pola-
netzki, bur3'ing his face in his hands. The poor mother
would not survive it. The death of such a child! I can
hardly believe it ! "

Tears also were in the eyes of Vaskovski.

"I asked him,'' i-esumed the old man, "whether she
suffL'rs intensely dui'imx the smhlen attacks. The doctor
replied that the pain was insignifuant. She may die as
calmly, as quic' Vy? '^s one sinking into a sweet slumber."

" He iUiuii'i Lo mention of it to the mother?"

" No. 11 ) inei'cly si.it^d that she was the victim of
lieait disease, w1mv'!i \;i{h children of tender age often dis-
appears, leaving :« • trace. This case, however, he con-
siders hopeless."

PcdaiKit'/la would not resicfu himself to the inevitable.

" One doctor," insisle(l he, "does not know it all. We
nnist cos.snlt an expert and try to save I'jr, as long as
tliere is a s[)iU'k of liopo smoldering in our liearts. She
must be taken to Monachiuiii, to sr^m; noted speeiahst, or
he must he bionght here. It will astojiish luid frighten
ihe mother, — but what can we do? However, this can be

was very
3k short
Is. Vas-
louse to
sufferer,
ig-i'ooni ;
10 good,
re.

I tlie old

le child.

one can

tack will

d Pola-
• mother
! I can

lier she
e doctor
die as
lunher."

ctim of
'l(^n dis-
he con-

vitahlc.

1. Wc
lon^ as
s. Shi'
alist, or
ri^hten

can bo

avoided. I will write to one at once. Pani.i Chavastov-
ska will, in the meantime, be informed of the [)resence
in Reicheidiall of a distinguished physician, who was
l)iought here for a wealthy patient. The opportunity
being obviously too good to miss, the rest will be an easy
matter. The little one must not be neglected under any
circumstance. He ought to be advised as to his mode of
action with the unsuspecting mother."

'' Have you decided upon anybody ? Who is the man ? "

*' I don't know of any one myself! JUit the local
physician will help us in the matter. Let us go and see
him at once, every moment is })recious."

The whole matter was arranged that same day. In the
evening both friends were announced at Panni Chavas-
tovska's villa. Lida felt well, — but gL)omy and silent.
True, she smiled from time to time at her mother and at
Jier friends, thanking them as it were for their attentions,
but Polanetzki's efforts to amuse and entertain her were
fruitless. Tliinking of lier dangerous condition, he took
lier evident gloominess as the natural development of her
disease, a premature foreboding of death ; and he re[>eated
to himself, that she was no longer the same merry, viva-
cious girl she had been; and that the threads of her life
were being severed. His dread increased when Panni
Chavastovska saitl to him: "Lida feels very well, but
do you know what she recpiested of me to-day? She
wants me to return to Warsaw ! "

Polanetzki with a strong effort controlled his growing
uneasiness, and turning to Lida, said with as gay an air as
lie could assume : '• Oh, you little rogue I Are you not
sorry to part with Hiumsee?"

Lida nodded her head negatively.

"No," she said, after a pause.

Tears came to her eyes, which shi; tried to hide.

'* What does it mciin ? " pondered Polanetzki.

The reason was obvious. J^ida learned at Thumsee,
that they wished to take away from her her friend, ht-r
'• l';ui Stach," as she called Polanetzki, — her most l>eioved
frit'iul and com[)anion. She lieard that beloved Mariny.i,
whiidi was a great ])low to lier sensitive soul. She had
thought that he loved only her and her mamma. SIiq

understood in a vague manner that he wanted to marry
Marinya, while slie considered him lier own exclusive
property. Not kno wilier exactly the nature of the danger
tliattlireatened hei', she felt instinctively that '' Pan Stach "
won Id leave her and break lier little lieart. Had the
offender been any one else she would endure it stoically.
This hazy idea of the affair was like a sort of magic circle
of a revolving wheel, out of which the child could not
escape.

Anu how could she complain to tliem about themselves ?
Evidently they have set their liearts upon it; they want
it, and will be made ha[)py by tlie arrangement. Did not
mamma say that " Pan Stach " IovchI Marinya, and he
denied it not. That means that she must submit ; swallow
lier tears in silence ; say nothing even to her manuna. Thus
Lida buried in the depths of her suffering little soul the
first real sorrow of her life. Yes, she was forced to
yield. Put worry and chagrin are poor remedies for heart
disease. 'J'he resiiTfuation of the child to lier fate was
wrauofht with more daiio-ers than the anxious friends sus-
pected. The specialist arrived in Reichenhall two days
after. lie examined the child and foujid the diagnosis of
the local physi(uan to be correct. Of couise, he reassured
Panni Chavastovska. Put to Pohiiietzki he fraidvly
admitted that the life of the child might be prolonged for
months and years, but would always li.mg by a tiny thread,
which might snap at any moment. He recommended per-
fect rest, and imnumity from giiy as well as sad impies-
>si()ns ; in short, prescribed constant nursing. Tenderness
was lavished u[)on the little one. She was carefully
guarchid from the slightest excitement, but did not escape
the more injurious one that came in the shape of letters
from Marinya. The second letter, that followed a week
after the lirst, made a very grave impression u[)on her [)re-
maturely developed brain. True, it dispersed all her
doubts about the loyalty of *" Pan Stach," but it agitated
her whole feeble life. P;inni Chavastovska was undecided
whether to show this letter to Polanetzki or not. He
in(|uired for it every (hiy. To deny its receipt meant to
lie. Al lengtii she conclude that it was best to accpiaint
him witli tlie whuio truth, to show hiin what a stony road

'"°""'"-

to marry
exclusive
le danger
in Stack "
Had the
stoically,
gic circle
ould not

I m selves ?
\iv,y want

Did not
, and lie
; swallow
la. Thus

soul the
'orced to

for heart
fate was
ends sus-
Lwo da3\s
c^'uosis of

eassured
frankly
)nged tor
ly thread,
ided per-
inipies-
inderness
carefnlly
ot escape
)f letters
(1 a week
1 her pre-
. all lier

agitated
ndecided
not. lie
neant to

ac(piaint
ony road

he would have to travel upon. Tlie night after the receipt
of the letter Panni C'havastovska touched upon the subject.
She had put Lida to bed and they were all alone.

" Marinya was greatly shocked by your disposal of
Krenien's mortgage," said she.

'' Oh ! you received a letter ? "

" Yes."

" Will you let me see it ? "

" No ! I can only read to you some parts of it. Marinya
is disheartened.''

'^Slie knows that I am here?"

"She had not received my letter when slie wrote, and
was not aware of your presence here. I am surprised that
jMasliko, who is there now, withheld this fact from her."

'* Mashko left Warsaw before I did. He was not cer-
tain whether my decision to go to Reichenhall was final, Jis
I sj)oke of other places."

Panni Chavastovska, went to her desk, found her wallet
containing her letters, returned to her seat, and adjust-
ing the lamp, sat down o[)posite Polanetzki. Before she
began to read, she remai'ked : " You see, Marinya is not so
much affected hy the fact that you sold your aebt — as
she is — that you stole her heart. That was a very sad
disappointment indeed."

" Do you know," begari Polanetzki, " that to no otlier
person could I whisper a word about it ; but to you I
would fain confess that I liave connnitted a foolish and
unpardonable act, for which, however, I am sufficiently
punished."

Panni Chavastovska cast at him a sympathetic glance,
turning ui)on him lier clear l)lue eyes. " Poor fellow,"
said she. " Then you are really fast in the meslies of
love? You know, I hope, my question is not prompted
by curiosity, but by friendship. I wish to correct your
mistake. If I w^ere only certain "

But she did not finish her sentence. " What struck me
most," interrupted Polanetzki, with fervor, " washer first
letter. I liked the girl's sweet simple mainiei's and be-
gan to think of her with a (hQ\) conviction that she was
superior to all other girls it had been my fortune to know.
I was not wrong. She is, indeed, the one girl I pictured

■f

in my sweetest dreams, the one qiil T ardently longed for
diiy and niglit! But wlial of it? My (Ie(nsion to remain
linn at all hazards ; to part witli nothing iliat is legally
and morally mine, still rules every other passion. It has
hecome a principle ; and when a man once adopts a prin-
ciple, it l)ecomes a law to liim, which lie res})ects, if only to
gratify his own ambitions and vanity. Besides, in every
o:ie of us, there are two men, of wliich the second always
finds fault witli the first. This second man wliispered
into my ear: "Leave them alone! You will never make
up with lier father." lie is, indeed, an obnoxious charac-
ter ! I decided to leave them to their fate, and sold my
claim. After the deed was done I discovered to my horror,
tliiit I could not banish Marinya from my thoughts. That
into ni}'- mind, usually solusr, came the convict i(Ui that she
was the one girl I sought, the one girl that could take my
heart by storm. I understood tlien, tliat my act was rash
and foolish. Wlien her letter came to you I further con-
vinced myself that in her pure heart there was being laid
the foundation of a sincere desire to love me ; to become
mine, as I loved her and dreamed to make her my wife.
Upon my word of honor, either this is the absolute truth,
or I am losing my senses ! That letter struck me a death-
blow and left me helpless, poweiless — I cannot resist it.
1 cannot flee from it ! "

" Under the circumstances I will not read to you her
entire letter," said Panni Chavastovska, after some medi-
tation. "She writes tliat her short dream ended sooner
than slie expected. About Mashko she asserts that he is
very delicate in money matters, although he betrays a
natural desire to have it settled to his own advantage."
"She will marry him ! Siie will marry him ! "
" Oh, you don't know her. As regards to Kremen, here
is what she writes : ' Papa is only too glad to get rid of
Kremen and move to Warsaw. But you know how
dearly I love Kremen ; how fond I am of every nook and
corner. However, after all that has happened, I bega,n to
doubt the value of my labors and privations. Of course
I have not abandoned all hope, and will fight for Kremen
to tlie last. Papa claims that his conscience does not per-
mit him any longer to keep me in seclusion in a village.

iged for
') remain
!} legally
It lias
s a prin-
f only to
in every
I always
liis])eretl
er make
cliarac-
sold my
' horror,
;. That
tliat she
ake my
^as I'ayli
;ier con-
ng laid
become
ly wife.
3 truth,
, death-
esist it.

on her
) medi-
sooner
it he is
trays a
,ge."

n, here
rid of
how
3k and
gan to
course
rem en
ot per-
illage.

This is the last straw. It lt)()ks now as if everything was
being done to please me ! At times it sounds to me like
a mean bitter irony ! Mashko made pa})a an offer of three
thousand a year and thti whole sum to be realized from
the sale of Magyerovka. I am not surprised at this i)re-
sumably generous offer. Mashko will get the estate
almost for nothing. ra[)a protested thus : * According to
your proposal, if I live only one year, I'll only get tliree
^.liousand. ^lagycrovka is mine under any circumstances.
Alashko proves that ^Magyerovka at the present state of
affairs would fall into the hands of our creditors, while
there is nothing to [)revent pai)a from living thirty years
longer. And lie is right. 1 know that papa does not
h)()k with disfavor ui)on the project; lie merely wants to
strike a better barcfain. There is one consolation for me
in this sad turn of affairs, we will move to Warsaw. 1
will always be near you and Lida, on whose love and
kindness I can always rely.' " A pause ensued.

A moment later Polanetzki said, slowly drawling his
words :

" Oh, that's how it happened I I took away from her
her Kremen and sent her a sweetheart with one shot ! "

Saying this, he little sus[)ectcd that in her letter Ma-
rinya expressed the same sentiment. Panni Chavas-
tovska, wishing to spare I'olanetzki, made no mention of
it. Mashko was an ardent suitor of Marinya during her
brief visit to Warsaw. 0)ie need not be a genius to di-
vine Masliko's purpose in buying the debt from Polanetzki
and going to Kremen. This last fact inteiisilied the bit-
terness that tilled Marinya's heart, and that insult she
believed P(jlanetzki intentionally tlung at her.

" This must all be cleared up," remarked Panni Cliavas-
tovska.

"1 sent her a husband," repeated Polanetzki, — "and I
can't say that I was not aware of Mashko's intentions."

Panni Chavastovska })laycd v ith Marinya's letter,
buried in her own thoughts. Finally she said with deter-
mination in her sweet, modulated voice :

"This must all be changed. At iirst my hope was to
unite you two for the sake of the friendshi[) 1 fuel towards
you. Now there is an additional reason why I should

H'.

tii

4> 1 1

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

1.0

I.I

1.25

12.5

l^|Z8

12.2

2.0

1.4

IJ4

Hiotographic

Sciences
Corporation

33 WIST MAIN STRUT

WnSTIR.N.Y. MSSO

(716) •73-4S03

'^V
""^

l/u

iv^

accomplish this task, — and that reason is your evident de*
spair. I would always be a victim of remoi*se and of con-
science were I to leave you to your fate. Do not lose
hope. There is a certain French proverb, very expressive
indeed, suggestive, of the strength and will-power of
woman. It does not sound well in Polish. But believe
me, you have my profound sympathy. I will do anything
to lielp you.'*

Polanetzki grasped her hand and pressed it warmly to
his lips.

" You are the best, the purest, the loveliest creature I
ever laid my eyes on."

" I was very happy once, and as I believe there is only
one road to happiness, I should like my friends to find it
and not be led astray."

" You are right I There is only one road to happiness,
and no other. Once I live, once I breathe the pure air, I
must feel in my heart a natural desire to make my life as
useful to othei-s as to myself."

" And since I accept the office of matrimonial agent,"
continued Panni Chavastovska, laughing gaily, *' I do not
wish love's labor to be lost. We must now map out our
plan of action."

With these words she lifted her eyes toward the light
of the lamp. The rays fell squarely upon her round,
young face, upon her somewhat disheveled blonde hair,
lalling in short curls over her forehead. There was some-
thing so fascinating, and at the same time so virgin-like
in its simple purity, that Polanetzki, notwithstanding the
fact that his own mind was absorbed with different
thoughts, unwillingly recalled the name by which Bukatzki
christened his fair hostess, calling lier " the virgin-widow."

" Marinya is a veiy plain simple girl," said she, break-
ing the silence, ** and she will best understand me when I
disclose to her the real truth. I will tell her wliat you
said to me ; that you are greatly interested in her ; that
you regret your rash, thoughtless act, committed under
the strain of the conviction that you couhi not agree
with her father ; that you deeply regret the whole oc-
currence, beg her to forget it, and not rob you of the hope
that she may extend to you a forgiving hand."

^? j^jua, X clin

roing out from Lid

not J repliet{ Polanetzki

1 olanetzki }iear<l a knock at tl
tovska did not wish to use tlie beu. r,e one
UHllet in Mannya, wl.o usually came on v
Greeting Polanetzki, she said . "^ '^ "'' "^^'v

as room into (he anto-chambor

anni Cliavas-
e opened the door

^i.cj jvcie uii uieir way iiome a tew minutes later.
Atter a beautiful day, came a still more lovely nifrljt
fresh and cool, light and silvery, with the faint gleam of
the moon. Polanetzki, for whom the evening had
dragged along dreadfully slow and uninteresting, breathed
treely the balmy air, and again felt almost happy, seeing
belore him two women he loved,- and a third he adored
and worshipped. By the pale light of the moon he saw
thiit face, and it looked to him serene, kind and tender.

Lida sank into the depths of the seat and apparently
slumbered. Polanetzki covered her with a shawl, taken
Irom her mother for the purpose, and they rode on in
silence. At last Panni Chavastovska broke the silence,
fehe spoke about Plosbovski, the news of whose untimely
death shocked her. *'

" Yes, indeed, there must be some sad drama in that un-
happy affair," remarked Polanetzki, " and Panni Kraslavski

agitation, and at tlie ^■imTlWl ^'?'*' '" '='"'««''l his

f paid to the me ,i ng of 'l^Z ''Z "^I ""'.'^ ''f ^

owed the current of hfr oJ^'tiZL . ^A* !!.I";1 -':

" In the meantime I will write t^^ Mashko and offer to
buy Kremen from him, and pay any interest on his invest-
ment he may demjind."

Panni Chavastovska bui-st out in laughter : " There you
have your sober-minded, your matter-of-fact business man
— Polanetzki, who brags about his freedom from the
frivolous Polish character, and Polish carelessness."

" Yes, yes ! " he exclaimed, brightened with visions of
restored happiness. "It all depends upon the fact that
nothing is too good or too extravagant if the transaction
is worth it. That's business."

But just as quickly he frowned and grew sullen again :

" And if she replies that she is already pledged to
Mashko?"

"I will not admit of such a probability. Mashko is
undoubtedly a perfect gentleman, but not of the kind to
suit Marinya. She will never marry a man simply be-
cause it pays best. And T know that she has little lo.e
for Mashko. This shall never happen. You don't know
Marinya. Do what you can — don't worry about Mashko.'*

"Instead of writing, I will wire to him at once. He
can't remain forever in Kremen, and ougnt to receive my
telegram in Warsaw.'*

< «
i

CHAPTER VIII.

Two days later Polaiietzki received Masliko's r-'ply. It
WRK short and coinmeiiced : " Yesterday Kremeu became
mine." Tiiough from Marinya's letter this result could
have been foreseen, and such a reply expected, yet it made
a deep impression, nevertheless. It seemed to Polanetzki
that a ^reat calamity had hap[)ened, unexpected and
irreparable, for which he alone was responsible. I'anni
Chavastovska, knowing Marinya's affection for Ivremeii,
feared the worst, and did not conceal her apprehension
that the sale of Kremen would retard the affairs of the
young peoi)le.

" If Masliko does not marry Marinya,'' said Polanetzki,
** he will rob old Plavitzki in sucli a skilful manner that
his own reputation will remain untarnished, but Plavitzki
will become penniless. Had 1 sold my debt to any other
usurer, the old man miglit have been able to pay some-
thing and delay liio crasli for years to come, during which
liis affairs might improve. At least Kremen might then
be sold on more favorable terms. If they now leave thei]'
home with nothing but unpaid debts, the blame will b()
hiid at my door."

Panni Chavastovska detected danger in another direc-
tion.

'* It matters little that Kremen is sold, if the cause of it
had only been any one else but you. But after your visit,
after the mutual impi-ession received during the short but
eventful visit, Marinya could not expect this from you.'*

Polanetzki understood this very well himself, and he
believed that Marinya was lost to liim forever. There re-
mained but one thing — to forget her and seek another
matcli. From this his whole soul lebelled. Tlie feeling
which at lirst was but smoldering, now became a con-
suming, devouring llanie. This llame was kept alive by
his own conviction, and iinally by Marinya's letter, that

he had wronged her. He pitied Mn,rinya, and could not
think of her without becoming ex(uted and indignant.
Besides, this energetic, muscuhir man never coukl submit
to the course of events. His nature refused to bow to it.
His own ambition, at least, would not permit Marinya to
be forgotten. Tlie thought that, sooner or later, he would
be forced to acknowledge himself the tool of Mashko, was
as gall and wormwood to him. It tilled his soul witli rage.
At times he was ready to plunge into battle with Mashko,
to throw obstacles in his way, to hinder his future plans
find prove to him that all the cunning of a clever lawyer
must retire to secondary place before real manly energy.
All these noble motives urged Polanetzki to extraordinary
activity, whicli, however, was useless. 'J'he condition of
affairs leaving no opening for action. To sit in Reichen-
hall, to allow Mashko to weave his spider net in which he
hoped to entangle Marinya, to ol)serve all that, and remain
inactive? Oh, no ! It was past his endurance. But what
could he do? Tbis question remained unanswered. For
the first time in his life Polanetzki felt himself chained
and fettered, and the less he was accustomed to it, the
harder it was to bear it. For the first time in his life lie
learned the awful meaning of sleepless nights and un-
strung nerves. Lida added to the common misery, get-
ting worse every day, and it seemed as if over the little
group of devoted friends a leaden atmosphere of restless-
ness and uneasiness hung heavily — an atmosphere in which
life become a torture.

Another letter from Marinya arrived the following
Monday. It contained no mention of either Polanetzki
or Masliko. Slie merely announced the sale of Kremen ;
made no comments, no complaints. But between its
lines one could easily read how deeply she was affected by
the s.ale.

Polanetzki would fain prefer to read therein his own
sentence. Her absolute ignoring his i)art in the unfor-
tunate affair was pi'oof positive that he was banished for-
ever from the heart of the young girl, while her silence in
regard to Mashko meant tlu; contrary. At least, if she
lamented the loss of Kremen, it was in her power to
regain its possession by giving her hand and heart to its

100

new owner. Perliaps nhe liad filiendy decided upon it.
Tnu;, old Plavitzki had liisown nohle piejudices, on whicli
Polanet/ki based liis liopes ; but then, knowing liis selfish
nature, lie feared that under the eireunistanees he would
saerifK^e his noble traditions and the future of his own
daughter for his own profit. One thing was certain,
tliat it was impossible for Polanetzki to remain in Reichen-
hall and await the news until Pan Mashko should deem it
2:)roritable to offer his hand to Marinya. In the meantime,
Lida persist(Mitly begged to be taken back to Warsaw.
Polanetzki dccich^d to return home ; moreovei', the time
had arrived for the develo])ment of the new enterprise
agreed U[)on with Higel. 'i'his decision was a relief to
him. He would return to Warsaw, could take in at a
glance tlie state of affairs, and perhaps take some import-
ant action. Anything was better than the tantalizing
uncertainty of affairs in Reichenhall. Panni Chavas-
tovska and her daughter were not astonished at thij?
decision. They knew that his visit was to be of short
duration, that they were trrnicet again in Warsaw during
the latter part of August. She ])romised to keep Pola-
netzki posted as to the progress of Li(hi's convalescence,
and the complications arisini; in Krcmen. The dav of
Pohmetzki's d(![)arture found the little group sad and
gloom3^ They all gathered at the railroad station to bid
him farewell. Polanetski was ea<j:er to return liome, vet
loath to part with his friends ; for the success awaiting liim
in Warsaw was uncertain, while heie he was surrounded
by the best friends he ever had in tlie world. Leaning
out from the window he gazed into the sad and thoughtful
eyes of Lida, and the smiling, sympathetic face of her
mother, with such a feeling of affection and devotion as
though tliey were of his own flesh and blood. Again his
eyes were dazed for a moment by the striking beauty of
the fair widow, the tender, delicate featui'es of her face,
the angelic ex[)ression, and the stately, virgin-like figure
attired in l)lack.

'^ Farewell ! " said Panni Chavastovska, " write me from
Warsaw. We'll meetagain in about thiee weeks from now."

"Three weeks!" repeated Polanetzki. **I will not
fail to write to you. Farewell, Lida! "

101

" Farewell. Remember me to Eva and Yagassia."

" I will."

** And once more he held out his hand through the
window : " Farewell ! don't forget your friend."

" We won't ; indeed, we won't ! Do you want us to
pray for you ? " asked the widow, laugliingly.

" Thanks for the offer. Good-bye, professor! "
. A shrill wliistle, and puffing and panting, the locomo-
tive started. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs, until
Polanetzki, bowing and smiling, disappeared in a cloud of
steam and smoke.

" Mamma," asked Lida on their return home, " must we
really pray for Pa;i Stach?"

" We must, Lida, we must ! He is so kind to us. We
must pray to God that He grant to Pan Stach happiness."

** Is he not happy, mamma ? "

"No, my dear. . . . You see, we all have our
troubles. . . . He has his own."

" I know it. I heard of it in Thumsee," said Lida.
Then she added in a whisper, " I will pray for him."

The professor, Vaskovski, who with all his dignity had no
control over his tongue, took advantage of the first oppor-
tunity, wlien Lida walked ahead, to tell Panni Chavas-
tovska^-" Polanetzki has a good heart. He loves you
both like a brother. When tlie specialist reassured me
that the child was in no immediate danger, I may just as
well tell you, it was Polanetzki wlio sent to Monachium
for him, as the child's health worried him exceedingly."

" He ?" asked the widow in astonishment. " Now you
see what a kind friend he is ! " and tears of gratitude
welled up in her eyes. " I will not remain his debtor,"
she added after a pause. " Marinya must and will be his."

Polanetzki's lieart, as he left his friends, was also lilled
with love and gratitude to Panni Cliavastovska, for the
natural reason probably that a man in his condition is apt
to fully appreciate the sympathy and friendship of his
fellow-beings. Sitting in the corner of the car with the
fascinating image of the young widow still fresh in his
memory, he said to liimsclf : " Had I but loved her, what
serene happiness would have been mine ! The goal of
life would have been reached. I would have known ex-

.v^0aA. UMI>>--.<

102

actly what I lived and struggled for; that my life had
some purpose, tliat it was worth living. True, she re-
peatedly asserted that sh<;'ll never wed again. But
who knows. She may be more perfect, more level-
headed, hut her heart might be dry and empty. But
immediately he felt that while he thought of Emilya with
the quiet deep love of an elder brother, the very mention
of Alarinya's name set his heart throbbing wildly, and
he was seized by a disagreeable yet entrancing sensa-
tion of uneasiness, restlessness. lie felt that something,
some magnetism attracted him to her, which he was pow-
erless to resist. When he held the widow's hand in his
the touch of its little fingers left no impression what-
ever. Yet he remembered very distinctly the intoxicating
warmth of Marinya's hand, and the very recollection of it
made him feverish. Thus he spent his time till Salzburg
was announced by the conductor. Here his thoughts
assumed a more definite shape. While he came to no
decision, he at least considered the question as to how he
would act under the circumstances.

" I do not deny that I was the cause of the loss of
Kremen," thought he. Kremen represented to Marin3^a
not only a certain value of an estate when sold under
favorable conditions, but an object of affection, thanks to
its association with people and objects so dear to her heart.
I have robbed her of both. Legally my action is above
reproach ; but conscience, which is made of higher and
more delicate material than dry law clauses, finds it in-
sufficient. I sinned, and I confess it. I therefore must do
my utmost to atone for the wrong committed. But how ?
I cannot buy Kremen from Mashko — my means do not
permit of it. There is only one way to do it, to dissolve
partnership with Bigel, and release my capital invested in
the business. This will almost ruin Bigel. Ergo — it is
impossible. One escape remains. I must resume my
good relations with Plavitzki ; in due time propose to
Marinya, and, if jilted, at least have the satisfaction of
knowing that I did all an honest man could do."

But then the other man within him raised his voice.
Said he : " Your ap[)eal to your conscience is but a poor
farce. Had Marinya been ten yeaiti older and homely of

103

3 had
lie re-
But
level-
But
\ with
entioii
)\ and
sensa-
;thing,
3 pow-
in his
what-
icating
>n of it
ilzburg
loughts
! to no
how he

loss of
larinya
under
inks to
r heart,
above
ler and
it in-
must do
t how ?
do not
issolve
isted in
it is
ime my
k)0se to
lotion of

Is voice,
a poor
Imely of

face, the blame for the sale of Kremen would lias'e been
yours, just the same. Only you would never dream of
pru[)()sing to her. Better confess right here thut there is
something in that girl so fascinating, tliat she attracts
you so much with her face, eyes, lips, shoulders, her whole
dainty figure, that a strong team could not drag you away
from lier. Better call white — white, — and do not deceive
yourself."

But these thoughts were short-lived and were brief and
unwelcome. Polanetzki reasoned : '* First, my dear sim-
pleton, you don't know that 1 am compelled, under all and
any circumstances, to compensate her for this wrong.
That at the present moment I prefer to sliow my repentance
and offer compensation in the shape of my heart and name,
is but very natural. Men always propose to the women
they love and not to those they hate. The outer man
attempted timidly to make several remarks, for instance,
that Pan Plavitzki might throw Pan Polanetzki d'^wn the
stairs, that Panna Plavitzka might close the aoor in
his face ; but somehow he was not afraid of that. " People
are not so revengeful now-a-days," thought he, *'and if
the Plavitzkis are of that sort, the worse for them."

He insisted that if they possess a grain of tact, he would
be accorded at least, a polite and friendly reception, and
at last what is to prevent him from meeting Marinya at
Panni Chavastovska's ?

At Salzburg Polanetzki was compelled to wait over
an hour for the arrival of the train from Monachium, which
he was to board for Vienna. He was about to take a
stroll through the main streets of the town, when passing
the waiting-rooms for the first-class passengers, he sud-
denly espied the rather loud-checked coat of Bukatzki,
his monocle and small head, covered with a still smaller
felt hat.

Bukatzki or his ghost ! " exclaimed Polanetzi.
Calm youi*self ! " phlegmatically replied Bukatzki—
shaking hands with him as if they had just parted.

' Well, how are you ? "

*' What are you doing here ? "

*' Eating a cutlet fried in margarine."

" Going to Reichenhall ? "

((

104

4 \'

** Yes. And you, home already ? "

" How !— Yes I

" You proposed to Chavastovska ? "

" No."

" Then, you are forgiven. You may proceed on youi
journey."

" Keep your jokes for a more favorable occasion ; I am
not in the humor for them. Lida is in great danger."

Bukatzki sobered up immediately, and raising his eye-
brows, said :

"Oh! Oh! Is that true?"

Polanetzki described in a few words Lida's recent at-
tack, and the opinion of the eminent physician he consult-
ed. Bukatski was silent for a few moments, then he said:

" Now, pray tell me, how can one help being a pes-
simist ! Poor child, and poor mother ! I cannot imagine
how she will ever bear her loss."

"She is veiy religious, still I shudder at the thought
of such a possibility."

" Let's take a walk. I want some fresh air. It is suf-
focating here."

They went out. Bukatzki, now extremely alarmed,
repeated :

" How can I help being a pessimist ? Such a bright
child, as Lida ! A pure, innocent dove ! Everyone
would pity her, save Death."

Polanetzki was silent.

" I am really at sea now myself,"^continued Bukatzki.
" Whether it is the proper thing for me to go to Reichen-
hall. With Panni Chavastovska constantly before my eyes
in Warsaw, I can somehow manage to endure life theie,
without fleeing abroad. About once a month I declare to
her my undying love and admiration, receive my usual,
* no, thank you, and live again in hopes, patiently wait-
ing for my next chance to propose, month in and month
out. Now, the first of the month is long recorded in
history, and I begin to feel lonesome without my custom-
ary pension. Does the mother understand the real condi-
tion of her daughter? "

"No. Though the little sufferer is past all hope, she
may linger a year or two moret"

■< '

105

*' Bah ! Who knows liow long either of us will make
this wicked world his abode? Do you often think of
death?"

"No. Wliy should I? What good would it do me?
I know that I must give up the fight sooner or later, and
do not bother my head about it any more than it is good
for my constitution. Besides it's a little too early yet."

"That's just where tlie fun of the thing comes in. We
know very well, that we must give up the fight, yet we
struggle on to the end, like an unsuccessful litigant, mak-
ing appeal a-fter appeal only 'to submit to the highest
tribunal. There is the whole idea of life. Otherwise life
would be a yawn-provoking vaudeville ; while now, — it is
a silly drama. As to myself, I have three alternatives ;
hang myself, g" to Reichenhall, or to Monachium to admire
Boecklin's paintings. If I were logical, I would choose the
the rope. But as I am not, I will goto Reichenhall. The
widow is certainly a more worthy object of admiration,
than all the figures Boecklin ever painted, both as to color-
ing and drawing."

" What's new in Warsaw ? " suddenly asked Pola-
netzki. Have you seen Mashko ? "

"I have. He bought Kremen, and poses now as a
* gentleman with estates.' He is clever — the dog, and does
his utmost at the same time not to seem overbearing.
He is very polite, considerate, accessible ; in short he has
undergone a wonderful change in that short space of time
Naturally, not for the benefit of you or myself, but for
Pan Mashko."

*' He is not going to marry Panna Plavitzki? "

" So far, it seems doubtful. His intentions, however, are
an open secret. Your partner Bigel said something about
him, and about Kremen. I believe it was to the effect,
that he bought the land very reasonably. You will get
all the information you seek in Warsaw."

" Where are the Plavitzkis ? "

"In Warsaw, at the Hotel Rome. The girl is not at all
bad looking. I paid them a visit, as a cousin, and spoke
of you."

" You could have chosen a more agreeable subject."

" You are mistaken. Old Pan Plavitzki pretends to be

106

delighted with tlie turn liis affairs have taken. He cltiima
thiit you have done tliein a great service, unintentionally,
perhaps, but you did nevertheless. I asked my fair
eousin, how slie iiaj)pened to receive you in Kreinen, a
stranger she had never laid her pretty eyes on before.
She answered, that during her visit to Warsaw, you were
roughing it al»road."

"True. Our business interests demanded my presence
in Berlin, and I remained there, much against my own
will, for many a month."

*'I failed to notice any ill-feeling toward you. I heard
a good deal about the young lady's devotion to her fields
and granaries, to lier work of managing a crumbling
estate, and naturally expected to find her nui-sing a grudge,
caused by your coup (Tetat. But she showed no evidence
of it."

"May be, she is holding in check lier just ire and in-
dignation, to turn them loose against me at the first op-
portunity. She will have it very soon. I shall be their
guest once more."

" Ah ! . . . Well, tlien please do me a slight favor.
Marry her, for of two evils I always prefer the least. I'd
much rather call you cousin, than Mashko."

" I'll do it," curtly replied Polauetzki.

is
.t

■'IT

I,
V

107

CHAPTER IX.

I'd

L-

On his return to Warsaw Polanetzki immediately went
to Bigel's, where the hitter aiMjUiiiiited liim with all the
details of Mashko's jjurchase of KrenuMi. The; conditions
were indeed very favorable to Mashko. He agreed to pay
the old man thirty-live thousand louhles within one year,
to be realizxnl by the sale of Magyerovka; and in addition,
an annuity of three thousand ]()ul)]es. to cease at the death
of Plavitzki. Polaiietzki considered these conditions quite
reasonable even for Plavitzki, but the conservative Bigel
differed.

Said he: " I do not form my opinions so quickly, and
am slow to judge others, but I nuist say that Plavitzki is
an old egotist. For the sake of his own temporary material
welfare, he was not averse to sacritlcing the future of his
own daughter. Pie is a light-minded, easy-going man.
In this transaction the annual payment depends entirely
on the fjite of Kremen. As it is now, the estate, like a
swamp, will oidy absorb money, and has a fictitious value
as a selling connnodity. It will be well, if Mashko places
the land and buildings in good shape; but if not, he will
necessai'ily delay the payments, with the result that the
Plavitzki's woix't see a copper for years. What can he do?
Take Kremen ? Impossible ! By that time Mashko will
have contracted so many new debts, if only to pay the old
claims, that in case of a crash or his becoming bankrupt, —
God only knows how many creditors will stretch out
their arms toward that unfortunate })iece of land. Of
course, as I said, it all depends upon Mashko's honesty.
He may be a conscientious man, but his mode of doing
business is certainly very erratic, irregular, and one false
step will precipitate him and those who confide in him
into a terrible ab3'ss. Who knows but this very act, this
purchase of Kremen, is but the bu^inning of the e"d; for

108

in order to re-establish the value of the estate, he may
exhaust all his sources of credit."

" At any rate Plavitzki will have a snug sura as his
share of Magyerovka," remarked Polanetzki, wishing to
allay his own fears for their future.

" If only the old sinner will not squander it or lose it
at the green table.'*

*' Having been the cause of this sale, I believe, I must
do something for them now to assure their future comfort."

" You ? " asked Bigel, in astonishment. " I thought
that between you and them all ties were severed."

" I will try to re-establish myself in their graces. I will
call upon them to-morrow."

" I hardly think you ought to expect a cordial recep-
tion."

" I doubt it very much, myself."

"If you wish, I will accompany you. The main thing
is to break the ice. However, you may not be received at
all. What a pity my wife is not here. I spend my even-
ings in solitude, all alone with my 'cello, but in the after-
noons my time is my own and I can go wherever I
please."

Polanetzki declined the offer. The next day, after
spending more time than was his custom in maJiing his
toilet, he went to Plavitzki alone. His head was a chaotic
mass of thoughts, doubts and reflections. What will he
say and do under the circumstances? He knew before-
hand what a reception there was in store for him.

" I will be frank and outspoken, but not rude," said he
to liimself " This is by far the best policy."

He did not notice that he was at the entrance to the
" Hotel Rome." His heart throbbed wildly.

*' I would they were not home. I would leave my card,
and then await Plavitzki's return visit."

But at the same moment he added to liimself : " Be brave,''
n,nd mounted the staircase. Learning from the porter that
Plavitzki was in, he sent up his card, and a moment later
was invited into his apartments. Plavitzki was sitting at
the window, writing letters, tugging from time to time at
liis costly pipe witli an amber stem. At the sight of Po-
lanetzki, he raised his head, looked at him quizzically

109

through his gold spectacles, and said, slowly emphasizing
every word :

" Come in, sir, pray come in. You are quite welcome ! "

" I was informed by Bigel yesterday of your presence in
Wai*saw, and came to pay you my respects."

"This is very kind of you. To be candid, I did not
expect it: We parted anything but friends, for whicli,
however, you alone were to blame. But as you deemed it
your duty to call upon me fust, I am ready once more to
open my arms to you."

The opening of arms this time was limited to a Simple
greeting and stretching out of his right hand across the
table. Polanetzki shook that hand quite warmly, think-
ing, at the same time, " May the devil take me if I came
here for your sake. I do not feel under any obligation to
you whatsoever."

"Are you going to establish yourself in Warsaw?" ho
asked, after a short pause.

" Yes, although I am an old village repident, — accus-
tomed to rise with the sun, used to my daily labors. It
will certainly go hard with me in Waisaw. But my per-
sonal welfare must be jeopardized to bring about the suc-
cess and happiness of my daughter, and again I make a
sacrifice."

Polanetzki, who spent two nights in Kremen,knew tliat
Plavitzki's sun rose at eleven, that his daily labors bene-
fited his own person only. He made no remark, however,
his mind being absorbed elsewhere. The room occupied
by Plavitzki was one of a suite of two. Tlie doors were
open, and Polanetzki, who had fixed his gaze upon tliose
doors since his entrance, thought that Marinya was there,
but evinced no desire to make her appearance. He lis-
tened patiently enough for some time to Plavitzki's clrit-
ter, but finally interrupted him with the blunt question:

" Shall I not have the pleasure of seeing Marinya ? "

" Marinya went out to inspect the I'ooms T found this
morning. I expect her back every moment. 'Tis not far
from here. A place — not a flat I I will have a study and
a bedroom. Marinya's room is a beauty. The dining-rooin
needs more light, but this is not much of an objection, for
the parlor is a daiiiu^*"

ill

,;;■'!

f:m{

110

I I

Plavitzki went on describing and lauding his new lodg-
ings like a cliild, easily amused by everything, or an old
man, spoiled by fortune, on whom that tickle dame, after a
period of neglect, is smiling once more.

'* I tell you, life is different here, my boy. Scarcely
had I arrived in the city before I found these rooms. Oh,
Warsaw is an old chum of mine. I know the city too
well."

At this moment some one entered the adjoining room.

" This must be Marinya," said Plavitzki ; then added
louder : *' Marinya, is it you ? "

"I just came in, papa," answered a familiar young
voice.

" Come here ; we have a visitor."

Marinya a])peared on tlie threshold. At the sight of
Polanetzki her face betrayed the utmost astonishment.

Polanetzki rose and bowed to her, and when she ap-
proached tlie table he held out his hand, which she shook
politely and coldly. She then turned to her father, as if
there was no one else in the room.

"I saw the flat," she said, "and found it very nice and
comfortable. I only fear the street is too noisy."

" All streets are noisy here," remarked Plavitzki ; " this
is not a village."

" Excuse me, I am going to take off my hat," said Ma-
rinya to no one in particular, and went into her room,
whence she did not come out for a long time.

" Siie v/on't come out again," thought Polanetzki. But
she apparently was busy arranging her hair before the
mirror. She finally came into her father'^ room and asked :

"Am I disturbing }ou? "

"Not at all," replied Plavitzki; "We have no moro
accounts to settle and wrangle over, a fact which makes
me the happiest of men. Pan Polanetzki came here
prompted by etiquette, I presume."

Polanetzki blushed, and wishing to change the trend of
the conversation, said :

" I have just returned from Reichenhall and brought
you regards from Panni Chavastovska and her daughter
Lida. This is one of the motives that emboldened me to
call upon you."

Ill

For a moment tlie coldness disappeared from Marinya's
face.

" She wrote me of Lida's attack," said she. " How is the
child now?"

" She has had no other attack."

" I expect a letter from Eniil3'a. Perliaps she has sent
one, but I have not received it. She probably thinks we
are in Kremen yet?"

"It's all right. Tliey'U send it liere immediately. Be-
fore leaving Kremen I ordered all mail to be re-addiessed
to Warsaw."

" You don't intend to return to the village again ? '*
asked Polanetzki. •

" No, never again ! " replied Marinya, wliose eyes had
again assumed a cold expression.

Again silence ensued. Polanetzki gazed at tlie young
girl, and seemed to struggle with himself. Her face at-
tracted him with a magic force, in the existence of vhicli
he never believed before. He felt, beyond tlie shadow of
a doubt, that the girl fascinated him, that she was the girl
he could love, that she was the ideal he dreamed of, — and
he was piqued hy her coldness and api)arent indifference.
" I knew that you loved Kremen," he suddenly said,
"and notwithstanding it, I perhaps became the indirect
cause of its loss to you. If it is so, I will admit franlrly
that I exceedingly regret it, and shall never cease to feel
sorry for my rash act. In my defense I can only plead
that it was not done thoughtlessly, on the spur of the mo-
ment. On die contrary, I meditated over it long and
often, but my thoughts were as unreasonable as my decision
was absurd. The more I consider my offense the more I
throw myself on your mercy and beg your forgiveness."

At tliese last words he rose to his feet. His cheeks
were crimson, in his eyes spaikled truth and frankness,
but his words m;ule no impression. He had not chosen
the right way of approaching Marinya. Evidently he hid
but a scant knowledge of w<mien in generiil, and (M)nld
not divine how much their judgment of men depended on
their own feelinors. v

On the basis of such feelings and emotions everything
may be accepted as genuine or spurious coin, everything

■ "'J
* 1

112

may be defined good or bad, real or unreal, true or false ;
stupidity may be taken for cleverness, cleverness for
stu[)idity, egotism for self-sacrifice and vice versa ; rough-
ness for bluntness, and bluntness for a lack of delicacy in
feelings. Sucli was the case with Marinya. She felt lier-
self insulted by Polanetzki from the very moment Mashko
set his foot on the soil of Kremen. She listened to his
frank confession with scorn, and her first thought was :
" Wliat manner of man is he, who admits his actions to be
stupid, harmful, tliough they were carefully planned and
devised only a short time ago ! "

The appearance on the scene at Kremen of Mashko, and
the significance of his visits was still a fresh open wound
which was easily irritated and caused intense pain. And
now it seemed t(^ her that Polanetzki delighted in keeping
this wound open with the full consciousness of a man with
an unkind nature and iron nerves.

He stood at the laljle, gazing at her, and v/aited for the
outstretched liand of her whose forgiveness would bring
him happiness. But her eyes grew dim, as if clouded by
pain and anger, and slie grew colder than before.

"Pray, do not worry," she said with cold politeness.
" Papa is very well satisfied with the deal, and the terms
offered by Pan Mashko."

She, too, rose to her feet, thinking probably that Pola-
netzki desired to take his leave. However, he lingered
for a moment, astonished, stupefied, deceived, and filled
with the humiliation experienced by men jilted and cast
jiside. Rage boiled within him.

"Tlien," said he, " I desire nothing better myself."

"Yes, yes I . . . Pve closed a good bargain I " concluded
Plavitzki.

Polanetzki took his leave. Going down the stairs of
the hotel, two and three .steps at a time, his hat over his
eyes, he repeated to himself : " My foot will never enter

here again

However, he felt tliat he would be consumed by rage,
were he to return home. He walked on aimlessly, know-
injjf not whither he went. It seemed to him at that crucial
moment that he did not love Marinya, that in fact he de-
tested her. And yet, could he but bring himself to think

113

rage,
iciiovv-
lucial
le de-
think

calmly, the shock of the meeting would seem greater, more
disastrous. He had seen her once more, looked at lier,
compared tlie image that he cheiished in liis heart with the
original before him, now grown more fascinating than
ever. And notwithstanding his rage, in the depth of his
soul a feeling of delight and exultation was born. There
existed two Marinyas : One, meek and generous, willing
to love, in short, Marinya from Kremen. The other, a
cold Wai-saw damsel, who repulsed him. Polanetzki would
not for a moment admit that Marinya could be such as he
found her this morning. In his rage tliere was more
amazement than malice. Not being conceited, and yet
aware of his own worthiness, he was sincerely convinced
that he had only to offer his hand and it would be ea-
gerly accepted. To-day's reception dispelled the illusion.
Th's meek maiden appeared not only in the r61e of a stern
judge who condemns, but also in the r61e of a dignified
queen whose grace one might gain and lose. Polanetzki
could not become reconciled to this thought ; it tortured him.
But such is human nature. When he discoveied tlie fact
that he was not so desirable a match as he thought, that -she
not only did not raise him above herself, but put him down
below her own worth and value ; in spite of Ids insult and
consuming wrath, he increased tenfold in his own estima-
tic 1. His vanity was wounded, but his strong will longed
to plunge into battle with all obstacles, visible and invisi-
ble, and overcome them. Buried in his own tormentirig
thoughts he had failed to notice the direction he had taken
until he found himself finally near the Vistula, and men-
tally put to himself the sobering question.

"What in the devil did I come to Praga for? He
halted. The day was lovely and drawing towards even-
ing. The Vistula looked a mass of melted gold in the
bright glow of the setting sun. Beyond the majestic
river and the group of trees near by, a great expanse of
fertile land vas seen, hidden at the horizon by a blue-
j)inkish mist. There in that mist was Kremen, which
Marinya loved so well, and which she had lost so sud-
denly.

Polanetzki's glance was turned thither.

" I am curious to know," muttered he to himself, " what
8

114

would she do, if I should redeem Kremen and return it to
her ? "

He found no response to his own question. Instead, he
imagined how the loss of the land must have grieved the
sensitive, emotional girl, and he began to pity her. In
this compassion melted and disappeared his own imaginary-
wrongs as in a deep veil of mist ; while his conscience
whispered that he had received what he deserved.

" I am still thinking of her," said he, returning to the
city.

Indeed, he could not banish her from his mind. Never,
in the most important of his business transactions had he
experienced such lestlessness, such indecision. And now
for the first time the remark of Vaskovski, that Polanetzki
could not put his whole soul into money-making, came
back to his mind. And he marveled why it was really
so.

It was almost nine o'clock, when Polanetzki looked
in at Bigel's. His phlegmatic partner was all alone in
the spacious apartments. He was seated at the door lead-
ing to the garden piazza, and let his fingers wander over
the cello with such power of touch, that everything in the
room thrilled and trembled. At the sight of Polanetzki
he stopped abruptly, in the midst of some " tremolo," and
asked :

" Have you called on the Plavitzki's ? "

"I have."

" Well, how's Marinya ? "

*' Like a bottle of frozen water. For a day as sultry
and hot as this, it ought to be pleasant. Generally,
they are very polite affable people."

" I foresaw this."

" Go ahead, play ! Play ! "

Bigel resumed playing his '* TrJiumerei." and during
the operation, blinked his eyes, or gazed at the moon.

In the stillness of the beautiful night the music seemed
to fill with sweet, vibrating tones, the liouse, the garden,
and the night itself. He finished, was silent for a few
moments, then finally said :

*' I have a plan. When Panni Chavastovska returns,
my wife will extend to both her and Marinya an invitation

116

to visit her cottage in the country. Maybe that ice that
is freezing your affection will melt there."

" Play again from ' Traumerei.' "

Once more the 'cello, under the magic touch of Bigel's
fingers gave forth torrents of intoxicating sounds. Pola-
netzki was too young yet, not to be somewhat of a dreamer
himself. Therefore, a moment later, charmed by the
music and lulled into a sweet reverie, he imagined that
Marinya sat beside him listening to the "Traumerei."
That he held her hands in his own. That her pretty head
was on hia breast. She who loved him and was beloved.

116

.11',,

CHAPTER X.

Being a well-bred man Plavitzki returned the compli-
ment to Polanetzki and called on him on the third day.
He did not call the next day, because haste would betray
a desire to preserve friendly relations, not on the fourth or
fifth day, that would indicate a woful lack of worldly man-
ners. He paid his respects according to all requirements
of that science : " Savoir vivre." Plavitzki boasted of
this knowledge in all its various shades, which he con-
sidered the greatest wisaom of mankind. A considerate
man, he* admitted the existence of other branches of
science, but he insisted that men of science had no right
to unload their pretenses on others.

Polanetzki was just then in a mood, when anything
that bore some relation to Marinya was welcome. He
concealed with difficulty his joy at beholding Plavitzki.
That joy was manifested in his warm cordial reception of
the latter.

Polanetzki was astonished at the influence the city
exercised over the old man. He underwent a peculiar
change in appearance. His hair, libei'ally pomaded, shone
like the wings of a raven. His small mustaches were
bristling upward, as if rivaling the color of his iiair. A
spotlessly white waistcoat covered his stately chest, while
a houtonniere in the lapel of his black coat gave his whole
figure a holiday appearance.

" 'Pon my lionor, uncle, I did not recognize you at first,"
exclaimed Polanetzki. " I thought some youth was en-
tering my rooms."

" Bon jour ! Bon jour ! " replied Plavitzki. " The day
is cloudy, and the room is somewhat dark, that is why you
tliought me a youth."

"Cloudy or clear, but what a figure!" And walking
round and round, Polanetzki continued: "What a figure,
just like a girl's, would I had such a figure I '^

117

Plavitzki confused by this unceremonious reception,
and yet delighted at the ai)parently sincere surprise lie
evoked by his appearance, defended himself weakly, and
said : " Vbyons ! you madman I Let go I I may become
angry. You're crazy ! "

" Now all the girls will be at your mercy."

"You think so?'* asked Plavitzki, seating himself.

— ** I think you came here for the purpose of depriving
me of the girls' admiration."

" What ».onsense ! You're crazy, man I '*

"And Panni Yamish? Haveu't I seen with my own
eyes."

^" What ? '*

Plavitzki closed one eye, protruded his tongue, then
raised his eyebrows and said : " You see, my lad ! Panni
Yamish i« good enough for Kremen. I will admit frankly
that I abhor A^ectation, because it always reminds me of
provincialism. God grant forgiveness to Panni Yamish,
but she bored me with her affectation. A woman must
have the courage to become old, and then all her actions
will become those of pure friendship ; otherwise, her life
is a mere slavery."

" Then you were a butterfly in bonds ? "

" Do not say that," replied Plavitzki with dignity.
"Do not imagine that tliere was anything between us.
And had there been anything to speak of, you would never
hear a syllable about it from me. Believe me, that there
is a great difference between men of my day and me<i of
the^resent generation. We perliai)s, were no saints, but we
knew enough to keep silence, and this, my boy, is a gen-
uine virtue, without which true nobility does not exist."

" From all of which I conclude, tliat you will not tell
me where you are going with this red hoi.tomiiere.''''

" On the contrary. Mashko invited me and several
other friends to a jolly breakfast. At first, I refused, being
loath to leave Marinya alone. But I have spent enough
dieary years for her sake in tlie village, and am now going
to get some enjoyment out of life. Are you not invited ? "

" No."

" I am surprised. You may be a ' speculator ' as you
style yourself, but your family is a good one. Besides,

118

Mashko is only a lawyer. To tuU the truth, I did not ex-
pect to see him established so well."

" Oh, Mashko may walk on doubtful ground."

" And yet he is received everywhere. In my time I was
prejudiced against him myself."

** And are you not now ? "

" No. I must confess that he treated me in the Kremeii
affair like a gentleman."

— " And your daughter, — does she share your opinion ? "

" Probably ; although I fear that Krenien lies heavily
like a Kremen (stone) on her breast. It was for her sake
only that I sold the land ; but youth does not understand
it. I knew we must face the inevitable, sooner or later,
and am now ready to endure calmly any and all troubles.
As to Mashko, — Marinya cannot consistently blame him
for anything. True, he bought Kremen, but "

" He is willing to give it back ? "

" As you belong to our family, I may just as well say,
that he is — he was greatly interested in Marinya during
her first sojourn in Warsaw, but then his suit was not suc-
cessful. The girl was young, and she did not like him.
I looked at it rather unfavorably myself, for I was warned
that his antecedents — his ancestors were not — were doubt-
ful, in fact. Bukatzki made Mashko the target of his
witticisms, and there the matter ended."

" Evidently, it did not end, if it begins anew ? "

" Because I am now convinced that he descends from a
good old family, Italian, I believe. In olden times their
name was Masco ; they came from Bonne, and settled in
Bielorussia (Central Russia). He resembles an Italian
very much, as you may have noticed."

" No, he resembles a Portuguese."

" Well, it's all the same. But you just think of this :
to sell Kremen and get it back, — it takes a great mind to
invent such a scheme. I believe these are his inten-
tions. But Marinya is a wonderful girl. Although I
hate to say it, a man will sooner understand a strar.ger
than his own flesh and blood. If she says : ' Paris vaut
la messe,' as Talleyrand said."

" And I thought it was Henry IV. who gave utterance — •
to "

119

»»

" Because you are a speculator, a man of tliis modern
age. You 3'oung cliaps, history and her ancient adages
will not fit. You prefer to hoard money. But to return
to the subject. It all depends upon Marinya. I should
be the last man to force her to anything she has set her
little heart against. With our large acquaintance and
splendid family connections, she may hope for a still better
match as soon as we enter society again. This process of
looking up old friends and making now ones, is very dis-
agreeable, but what would you do ? What must be, — sliall
be ! Do you presume I am going willingly to partici-
pate in this breakfast ? No ! But I must open my doors to
young men.

" I hope you will not forget us."

" No, I will not forget you. Do you know what they
told me about you? That you are devilish lucky in making
money. I reolly don't know, whom you resemble, — not
your father, — I am sure. At any rate, it is not for me to
blame you ! Though you pressed me to the wall, showing
no mercy ; though you treated me like a wolf does a lamb,
yet there is something about you, for all that, something I
like, and for which I feel a weakness."

"It's mutual," replied Polanetzki.

Plavitzki did not deceive himself. He had an instinc-
tive regard and admiration for wealth; and this young
man who had acquired a fortune evoked in him an
admiration bordering on sympathy. This was not a va-
grant of a relative come to beg for aid, and Polanetzki,
though he had no other selfish plans, resolved to retain
his friendship. Toward the close of his visit he began to
examine his host's lodgings.

" You live very comfortably," said he.

And that was true. Polanetzki occupied splendidly
furnished rooms as though he intended to marry. The air
of ease and comfort everywhere was a source of pride and
pleasure to him, and made him believe that his heart's
desire was fulfilled.

. Plavitzki was loud in his admiration of the parlor,
beyond the open doors of which was the other room, lux-
uriously fitted up, and finally asked :

" Why don't you get married ? "

.'.n

120

" I am going to at the very first opportunity."

Plavitzki smiled, as if divining tlie identity of his wife
to be, and added :

" I know, I know — your future wife."

" So ! " exehiimed Tohinetzki." There ! IIow can I
conceal anytliing from an old diplomat ! "

*' Alia ! What — you marry a widow — a fair young
widow ! "

" My dear uncle."

" What ? God bless you, my boy, as I bless you I And
now — 'tis time to go. Time for breakfast. And this even*
ing for a concert at Dolina."

" In the company of Mashko?"

" No, with Marinya. But Mashko will be there."

" I, too, am going to take it in with Bigel."

" Oh ! Then we'll meet again. One mountain will
never meet another, — but one man another — always."

"AsT-'lleyrandsaid."

" Yes. Good-by ! "

Polanetzki loved music at times, but had no intention
of going to the concert until Plavitzki mentioned the
affair. The desire to see Marinya grew within him.

After Plavitzki departed, he pondered for some time
over the question : *' To go, or not to go ; " but this was
only for form's sake. Bigel, who came for a business con-
sultation, was perfectly willing to accompany liim ; and
at about four o'clock in the afternoon they alighted at
Dolina. Autumn was in the air, but the day was bright
and warm. The crowd had a midsummer air about it.
Light dresses, colored umbrellas ; and their owners, young
maidens dressed like multi-colored butterflies warmed by
the sun's golden rays, were very much in evidence.
Among this bevy of beauties, predestined to love and be
loved, to seek and find adventures, Marinya was to be
found. Polanetzki remembered the early years of his gay
student-life, when he fell in love at first sight with
unknown charmers, and watched them longingly, as they
mingled and became lost in the crowd. Very often he
mistook one for another, owing to the resemblance of hat,
hair and general aj)pearance. Time and again he mistook
various girls for Marinya, and every time he said to him-

121

self, — " This is she" — his heart began to throb violently,
and a restlessness he could not define took possession of
his soul. But to-day he was a'ngered at his own deception.
It seemed to him ridiculous. He felt that the seeking of
such meetings and interviews, and the absorbing and
centering of a man's thoughts on one being increased the
fascination for it. Wliile he thus scanned the crowd, look-
ing for her he longed to see, the band began to phiy.
Propriety demanded that they sit down and listen to the
various airs, which Polanetzki did with evident impatience,
angry at Bigel, who, with open mouth and closed eyes,
listened motionlessly, all absorbed in the execution of a
familiar selection. When it was finally ended, he noticed
the glistening high hat and dark mustache of Plavitzki,
and a moment later the outline of Marinya. Beside cheni
sat Mashko, calm and dignified, with the air of an English
peer. At times, he spoke to Marinya. She turned to him,
nodding her head approvingly.

'*The Plavitzkis are here," said Polanetzki, " we must
go and greet them."

" Where do you see them ? "

" There, with Mashko."

" Yes, true. Let's go ! "

Marinya who was deeply and sincerely attached to Panni
Bigel, greeted her husband very warmly, and nodding her
head to Polanetzki very coldly indeed, began to converse
with Bigel, inquiring about his wife and children.

In response to her question, Bigel invited her and her
father to visit him the next Sunday in his country cot-
tage.

'' My wife will be very happy to have you call upon us,"
said he. " Maybe Panni Chavastovska will arrive by that
time ! "

Marinya attempted to decline, pleading home duties
as her excuse ; but Plavitzki, who was not averse to taking
an outing now and then, and knowing that Bigel lived
well, accepted his invitation for himself and daughter
without a moment's hesitation. They agreed to come in
time for dinner, and leave the same evening. This was
very easily accomplished, as Panni Bigel's cottage was
near the railway station.

54?

;ijj

122

" In the meantime, sit clown beside us," said Plavitzki.
" There are luckilv a few vacant chairs left."

*' Have you any news from Emilya ? " asked Polanetzki
before sitting down.

" I was going to ask you the same question," replied
Marinya.

''No. I received no word from her. lam going to
telegraph to-morrow, inquiring about Lida's health.

The conversation was interrupted. Bigel seated him-
self at Plavitzki's right, Polanetzki beside Bigel. Marinya
turned once more to Mashko, so that Pohinetzki ^ould only
see her profile, and not very distinctly at that. He imagined
that she had grown thinner, oi* at least after a week's
sojourn in the city her face had paled considerable and
become softer, her features more delicate, wliicli made her
laslies look longer and throw a more expressive, wider
shadow. Her whole figure, thanks to her well-fitting cos-
tume, had gained, if possible, in stateliness and litlieness.
Her hair, too, was combed differently. Before it had been
gathered and pinned in plain country style, now it was
arianged in the latest fashion, half hidden by the stylish
hat. Polanetzki devoured her with his eyes, marveling
at her exquisite beauty and simplicity of manner, visible
in everything, even in the way she held her hands. In
short, he now more than ever before thought her a most
beautiful creature >

'* Oh, for such a wife ! Onlv such a wife ! " But she
continued to address Mashko, and did it with a vengeance.
Had Polanetzki been calmer and more composed, he would
liave thought that slie acted in accordance with a precon-
ceived plan ; that she wished to annoy him. It looked
tliat way. Tlieir conversation, however, seemed very ani-
mated, for on her face from time to time the crimson
appeared and vanished.

" Sho simply flirts with him ! " thought Polanetzki,
gnasiiing his teeth.

He attempted to overhear their chatter. This was very
difficult. During the long intermission tlie crowd was
noisy ; and Polanetzki, who sat two chairs apart from
Marinya, could not hear her; or, if he did, it was only a
word, a phrase disconnected, without meaning. Mashko's

vitzki.

,netzki

replied

ing to

i liim-
[arinya
Ld only
agined
week's
)le and
ide her
, wider
ng cos-
lieness.
ad been

it was

stylish
Tveliiig

visible
Is. In

a most

^ut she
geance.

3 would
precoTi-

looked
ery ani-
crinison

iiietzki,

^as very
wd was
i't frnin

4 only a
ashko's

f gard

123

voice was more distinct. After the end of each selection
played by the band, Mashko spoke earnestly, emphasizing
every word, as if wishing to attach to it the greatest
possible weight and importance.

" I love him,'* said Mashko. *' Every man has his own
weak points. His — is the love for money. I am very
much indebted to him, for he persuaded me to buy
Kremen . . . and, besides, I honestly believe, he wishes
you well . . . He showed no mercy, and, I confess, in that
he aroused my curiosity."

Marinya said something in reply, then Polanetzki heard
the end of Mishko's answer :

"... Not a developed character yet. He may possess
less intelligence than energy, but he has a yeiy kind,
generous nature."

Polanetzki understood very well that he was the sub-
ject of their conversation, and he recognized the tactics of
Mashko, wliose favorite pastime it was to treat con-
descendingly and often even impartially his acquaintances,
nay, even lavishl}'- praise them before mutual friends, and
at the same time deny them their real advantages as to
character and social standing. Thanks to this strategy,
he elevated himself to the position of an experienced judge
and occupied a desirable lofty pedestal. But Polanetzki
was also convinced that Mashko's object was not as much
to humble and belittle him, as to install himself in the
good graces of his lady, and would have handled without
gloves any other young man he deemed a dangerous rival
for the lady's affections. It was the kind of strategy
which Polanetzki himself might have adopted, but it did
not prevent him from making a vow to pay Mashko in the
same coin, at the very first opportunity. Toward the end
of the concert he noticed that Masl.ko played his r61e of
suitor for Marinya's hand with a great deal of skill. When
Marinya, in order to put on her veil took off her gloves
and they fell to tlie ground, Mashko picked them up
hastily and held them, together with lier parasol, until she
was ready to go. A moment later, when the crowd with
noise and laughter left the garden, he gallantly relieved
her of her cape to hand it to her again at the gates of the
, In short, he was all absorbed in his attentions

i^.

124

to her, though he preserved his dignity jf a worldly man
familiar witli tlie laws of etiquette. He seemed ubsclutely
satisfied with himself and perfectly happy,

Marinya, having exchanged a few words with Bigel,
spent the rest of the evening rapturously liotening to the
music and conversing with Mashko. On leaving tho
garden she walked ahead of her father, and Polanetzki could
only catch a glimpse now and then of her smiling face,
turned toward the lawyer. While talking, they looked
into each other's eyes. Marinya's face showed animation,
and her attention seemed to be riveted to Mashko's words.
Indeed there was no more room for doubt, she liirted with
Mashko; although Polanetzki, with all his wide-awake
observing mind, would not admit that it was all done for
his own special benefit. A carriage awaited the Plavit-
zkis at the entrance to the garden. Mashko helped the
old man to enter it, then tenderly assisted Mannya, and
after they were both made comfortable began to take his
leave. But Marinya, leaning out, and looking down at
Mashko, said :

" How's that? I thought j^apa invit.ed you to come with
us ? Did you not, papa ? "

" Ye:5, it was so agreed between us," replied Plavitzki.

Mashko took his seat in the carriage, and, nodding
to Bigel and Polanetzki, the trio rapidly vanished from
view. The two partners walked on for some time in
silence. At last, Polanetzki, trying to seem composed,
coolly said :

" I am curious to know what these two are at present ;
groom and bride, or not?"

" I do not believe they are so at present," replied Bigel,
"but it will certainly come to that before long."

" I can see that much myself."

"I thought Mashko would look for a fortune as the ma''\
attraction in choosing a bride, but he seems to be smitten
— in love, head over ears. You understand, of course,
that this may happen even to f>n adventurer. . . .
Yes, Mashko is in love, and will ultimately marry the
girL This union means an exemption from further
payments for Kremen. And k't me assure you that
the deal is a good one, more profitable than it looks to b^

125

rith

nitteii
ouise,
• •
•}' the
iirther

What is true, is

that
to b^

at first sight. The girl is pretty. . -
truf." . . .

He paused. But Polanetzki felt so miserable that he
waited not for his friend's further argument. He said
impatiently :

" I must any candidly that the very thought that she
will marry him is tormenting, tantalizing me . . . and
I am helpless. I am willing and ready to endure any-
thing, but not this helplessness. WhaL a comical, ridicu-
lous part, indeed, I have played in this affair I "

" You made a false step, which happens very often to
all of us. The whole trouble arises from a coincidence of
circumstances. Had you not been their creditor, f
instance. . . . Your ov^n opinions in such matters
are so radically different from theirs. . . . You are
like beings of two different planets, and, as you see your-
self, a misunderstanding is always lamentable, but possible.
Of course, you acted rather too harshly. You were too
severe at the beginning ; yet I cannot help thinking that,
under the circumstances, no one else could have been less
severe, with all consideration due the young girl. In
making concessions, your motive would necessarily have
been understood to be inspired by her. Is it not true?
And what would have been the result? It would have
looked as if she helped her father to entangle you in their
meshes, and rob you of your own. No, that affair had to
be settled." . . . Bigel paused for a moment, medi-
tated for a short time, and then resumed : '* As to your
future conduct, there is but one way left: you must
forget them all, let things take their own course, and say
to yourself that everything is being shaped just as you
wished it."

** What good will that do me ? " exclaimed Polanetzki
in despair. " Misery," they say, " loves company."
*' When a fellow's unlucky, everything goes wrong with
him. Naturally, when a man is so stupid as to make
trouble for himself nothing can get him out of it. All my
life, ever since T became conscious of my own acts, I knew
just what I wanted ; but this time I acted as if ignorant
of my own aim and purpose."

*' This is a passing stage — it will soon be forgotten,"

4 :

<,■>■''-•■

126

** But until it is foigotten life loses all its pleasure. Do
you really believe that I torment my brain puzzling over
the questions whether I shall be well or ill, rich or poor?
The very thouglit of the future is disgusting to me. You
are firmly established, and your ties of life are strong.
iUit what about me ? There were bright prospects — they
are gone . . . gone forever. This discourages a fellow
exceedingly, makes him drop his w eapons and give up the
struggle."

" But there is more than one woman in this world ! "

"Only one! If there were another, the other would
claim my attention. That's what makes me miserable,
that she is the only one. In a year from now a slate may
fall from tlie roof and crush my skull, or I may find
another charmer and marry her, but the morrow is still a
secret page to me. What I am conscious of — very much
so — is, that anger gnaws at my heart. It all joins issue
to-day with other grievances previously accumulated, and
chokes me. If, in our outer life, we need a quiet, peace-
ful place of rest, how mucli more do we need that peace in
our inner life ? There it becomes a necessity. I post-
poned the search for that place until marriage should
create new conditions of life, and a new way of thinking.
Before beginning a new business- ^ne must finish satis-
factorily the old. But here everything is becoming so
chaotically tangled up that the threads are not only invis-
ible, but are tearing apart, threatening ruin and .destruc-
tion. Scarcely does anything appear before it vanishes.
Afpresent I am living in a constant state of uncertainty.
That is why I would give considerable to be a married
man, everything would then be disentangled and brought
into proper shape."

" I will tell you sometliing," remarked Bigel, thought-
fully, " when I was a child, it was much easier and a good
deal safor to draw out the splinter that pained me, than
to leave tliis work to some one else."

'* You are right there," agreed Polanetzki, and, after a
pause, addp'1 : " But you see the splinter can be much
easier taken out if the wound is notd(>ep, and one can get
hold of it with liis nails. But how can you make this
comparison? You never lose anything by getting the

s
s

127

splinter out of your finger. In my case the wound will
smart, and witli the splinter disappears forever my pros-
pects for the future."

" 'Tis true ; but what can you do ? "

" For him, who is not helpless, it's ratlier hard to agree
to this conclusion."

The conversation was here interrupted, but when the
two friends parted, Polanetzki said to Bigel: *' Do you
know, I think it's better for me not to call upon you on
Sunday. You know why ? "

" Yes, you'd better not," replied Bigel.

■^f^^

128

CHAPTER XI.

On his return home Polanetzki found a telegram from
Panni Chavastovska, which read: " Will arrive to-morrow
morning. Lida is well." The home-coming of Panni
Chavastovska was unexpected, or at least sooner than ex-
pected ; but as the telegram indicated that Lida was well,
Polanetzki perceived that his friend returned to Warsaw
for the express purpose of attending to his love affair, and
Ins heart was filled with gratitude. " Tliat is an honest
nature," thought he ; " that is real friendship."

With this feeling of gratitude a ray of hope pierced his
gloomy thoughts, as though Panni Chavastovska possessed
a magic wand or ring, with the aid of which she could
gain the love of Marinya for him. He did not know
exactly how such things were accomplished, but he knew
that one sincere devoted friend might plead for him,
praise his heart, and character, and thus nip in the bud the
prejudices planted by the strange course of events. H*^.
calculated that Panni Chavastovska would stoically defend
him, and consider herself in duty bound to solve this
knotty problem. A man in trouble often seeks another
upon whom to place the -responsibility for his own afflic-
tions. In moments of despair it seemed to Polanetzki
that Panni Chavastovska was much to blame for his pres-
ent state of mind, and his relations to Marinya. Had she
not shown him Marinya's letter in which the girl's secret
was laid bare, from which he learned that her heart was
ripe for love, he would have found strength to suppress
his feelings, to banish her from his thoughts. Indeed,
that letter may have been the cause of it all. In the his-
tory of his varying moods and emotions, it played a prom-
inent part; it showed him in all its reality how near he
was to happiness, and how deep into his soul penetrated
the blue eyes that betrayed a yearning to entrust into his
care her heart and soul. But for tlie letter and the fact9

n from
norrow
Panni
an ex-
ts well,
V'arsaw
lir, and
honest

ced his
ssessed
could
know
i knew
r him,
)ud the
s. H'^,
defend
ve this
mother
I afflic-
metzki
is pres-
[ad she
secret
^rt was
ippress
ndeed,
he his-
Fi prom-
lear he
etrated
nto his
e facts

129

it disclosed, Polanetzki miglit have regretted the past
with a stronger heart, might have grown accustomed to
his position. He forgot that he insisted on having the
letter shown to him, and considered it her duty, aside
from his friendship and gratituc'e, to intervene for him,
and come to his aid. To be sure, he understood that it
would all arrange itself in the most natural way, as he
hoped to meet Marinya under the inost favorable con-
ditions for himself, in a house, where he was beloved,
where his friendship and devotion were highly appreciated.
This helped to strengthen his hopes. Having decided at
lirst not to avail himself of tlie opportunity to see Marinya
on Sunday at Bigel's, he altered his decision, thinking,
that if their health permitted, Panni Chavastovska and her
daughter would also participate in this little outing. This
possibility was a source of new rejoicing. He would feel
])erfectly happy to see around him the beloved faces of
Panni Emilya, and Lida, who had heretofore been the
only love in his lonely life.

The same evening he wrote to Plavitzki, informing him
of the arrival of Panni Chavastovska. He was confident
that Marinya would be pleased and grateful for this bit of
news. Then he notified the people in ch ige of the
widow's house to have everything in readiness for her
arrival, and engaged a landau. At five o'clock the next
morning, Polanetzki was at the depot. The morning
was damp and cold, and he paced up and down the pave-
ment in front of the depot with big strides, waiting for
the arrival of the train. At this early hour there was not
a soul at the depot except the attendants, but gradually
passengers and friends of arriving passengers began to
gather. Suddenly, among the incoming people, Polan-
etzki espied two figures that looked familiar to him. His
heart began to throb faster; they proved to be Marinya
and her maid, who came to meet Panni Chavastovska.
Polanetzki hastened to greet them. Not expecting to see
lier so early, he was somewhat confused. She was also
astonished. But Polanetzki quickly regained his wits,
and, holding out his hand, said :

" Good-morning ! The tlay promises to be fair. I wonder
if ottr fair passengers will arrive,"

II '

130

*' Why, is there aiij" doubt as to their coming ? " asked
Marinya.

"No, they will come this morning. Still something
unexpected might have occurred. It alw^'.ys does. I re-
ceived her telegram last night and notified your father at
once, judging that you would be delighted at the news.

" Thank you. This is a pleasant surprise for me."

'* The best proof of it is that you are up so early."

" Oh, this a habit I acquired in the village. I've had no
time to get rid of it."

*' We both came a little too early, I fear. The train is
due here in half an hour. I advise you not to stand still
but to walk around. The morning is chilly, although it
gives promise of a warm day."

" The fog is dispersing," said Marinya, raising her blue
eyes — eyes that seemed to Polanetzki violet-like in their
blue purity.

" Do you wish to take a walk along the phxtform ? "

" No, thank you. I prefer to remain in the waiting-
room."

And bowing she went inside. Polanetzki continued to
pace the pavement. He was disappointed at lier refusal
to walk with him, but explained it by the fact that it was
altogether too uncomfortable outside for her. However,
he was more than content at the thought that the return
of Panni Chavastovska had already given him an oppor-
tunity to see Marinya, and it promised a good many more
meetings on which he staked his hopes for the future. A
peculiar energy and a new source of joy crept stealthily
into his heart. He thought of her violet eyes, of her face
flushed with the morning air, and passing by the window
of the waiting-room, where Marinya sat, he muttered to
himself, almost gaily : " Hide yourself, hide yourself from
me, my dearest, but I shall find you, that I will."

Suddenly the big bell at the depot rang, and a few mo-
ments later, in the mist, the faint outline of the approach-
ing train could be seen, which became moie distinct as it
drew toward the station. At length, the train, enshrouded
in thick columns of smoke and escaping s^eam reached
the station. Polanetzki was the first to jump into the
sleeping car ; for the first face he detected at the window

asked

thing
I re-
her at
ws.

lad no

rain is
1 stili
ugh it

ir blue
1 their

aiting-

ued to
efusal
it was
wpver,
return
oppor-
more
re. A
althily
er face
window
ered to
If from

ew rao-
proach-
;t as it
rouded
ached
ito tlie
vindow

131

was that of Lida. At the siprlit of Polanetzki, her face
beamed,, as if lighted by a bright ray of the sun, and she
began to wave joyonsl}' her thin hands, calling him, and
in an instant he was at her side.

" My dear little pussy," exclaimed lie, grasping her hands
" have you slept well ? Are you well ? "

*' I am well, and back again ! v^e'U be together now, and
how are you. Pan Stach?" Behind the girl stood her
mother. Polanetzki pressed his lips to her hand and
spoke hurriedly.

" How do you do ! I have a carriage waiting for you,
and you can leave the depot at once, my valet will take
care of your baggage, only let me have your checks. Tea
is awaiting you at home. Let me have the checks — so.
Panna Plavitzka is also here.

Indeed, Marinya waited outside, and both friends with
beaming faces and smiling lips exchanged affectionate
greetings. Lida gazed at Marinya, as if wavering, and
knowing not whether to bid her good-morning, and then
threw herself into the hitter's arms with lier old childish
affection.

"Come with us for tea, Marinya ? " asked Panni Cha-
vastovska. " They are waiting for us, you surely have
had no breakfast yet. Did I guess it ? "

" But you are tired ; worn out by an all-night's jour-
ney."

We slept soundly from the very minute we crossed the
frontier. We had i)lenty of time to sleep, and arose
refreshed and strengthened. At any rate we intend to par
take of tea, and you will not be in our way, I assure you.'*

" Tlien I ,.m coming with i)leasure."

At that instant Lida tugged at lier mother's dress.

"Mamma," she said, *' and Pan Stacii?"

"Of course, my dear. Pan Stach comes along. He was
very thoughtful and made all ariangements. Thanks to
him we will find our home ready for our reception. He
must come with us."

" He must ! He must ! " echoed Lida, addressing Pola-
netzki.

" He must not, but he wants to," said Polanetzki, teasing
his little pet.

tit

, If- ■

132

In a moment all four were seated in the carriage. Pola-
netzki seemed at his best. Opposite him sat Murinya,
beside him — Lida. He imagined that the morning light
penetrated his soul and made him feel so gay, so happy ;
tliat for him there came the dawn of better, happier days.
He felt that from to-day on he would belong to that small
circle of people joined to each other by ties of friendsliip,
that in this circle Marinya would be the central figure.
There they both sat, so widely apart from each other, yet
so near, thanks to the warm friendship they both felt for
the Chavastovskas. The four friends chattered merrily.

" What happened, Emilya," asked Marinya, " that you
hastened your departure from Reichenhall ? "

'* Lida implored me daily to return home."

" Don't you like to live abroad'^" inquired Polanetzki,
of Lida.

*' No."

" Were you homesick for Warsaw ? pining for the old
place ? "

"Yes."

" And for me ? Eh ? tell me frankly, or it will go bad
with you."

Lida glanced at her mother, then at Marinya, then again
at Polanetzki, and added :

" Yes, and for you ! "

" Then, this is what you get ! "

And Polanetzki seized her little hand and wished to
kiss it, but she resisted and defended herself the best she
could. At last she succeeded in liberating her hand,
while he turned to Marinya, and laughingly showing his
strong, white teeth, said :

" We always fight, but we make up and love each other
none the less."

" It's always thus ! " replied Marinya.

" Oh, if it were so, indeed, with all of us ! "

Polanetzki looked straight into Marinya's eyes, as if
waiting for an answer.

Panna Plavitzka blushed slightly, became serious, and
not replying to Polanetzki, turned her attention to the
widow, commenced talMng with her. In the meantime
Polanetzki asked Lida :

Pola-
irinya,
' ligl't
lappy ;

days.
; small
idsliip,
figure,
er, yet
felt for
rily.
at you

netzki,

the old

go bad
11 again

ihed to
est she
hand,
ing his

1 other

3, as if

us, and
to the
jantime

183

" Where is Vaskovski, my pet, did he go to Italy ? "

" No, he remained in Chenstohova, and will be here the
day after to-morrow."

"Is he well?"

" Yes."

The little girl looked critically at Polanetzki and
added :

" But you are not Pan Stach, you look bad. Does he
not, mamma?"

" Indeed, you look bad," confirmed Panni Chavastov-
ska.

They were both right. He had changed considerably
from the loss of sleep. The cause of his insomnia was
facing him in the carriage. However, he explained that
this change was caused by increased labors in his office.
At last, the carriage halted before the house of Panni
Chavastovska. While the latter with Lida was busy re-
ceiving and extending greetings to her servants, Polan-
etzki remained alone with Marinya. After a short and
awkward pause, he asked :

" Have you a nearer, a better friend than Emilya? "

" A nearer, a better friend does not exist."

"Yes, you are right. Life demands a certain self-
abandoning kindness. She is very pleasant, very winning
and kind. I, for example, who have no family, nor rela-
tives, consider her home my own, and Warsaw looks dif-
ferently to me, when she is in the city."

He stopped, then added :

" This time my pleasure at her return is intensified by
the assurance that you will join our circle, which will be-
come for us all very dear." His eyes gazed at her ap-
pealingly, as if they wished to say to lier in so many
words : " I cannot live without you! Give me your hand,
be good to me, mar not the pleasure of this beautiful
day."

But she, just because she was not indifferent to him, made
no advances to meet him half-way. And the more he
evinced his good will, the more he became sympatlietic,
the more his former actions appeared to her ridiculous,
impossible, the more the insult heaped upon her hardened
her heart towards him. Of a timid and tender nature, she

134

felt that her answer to that silent appeal might spoil the
perfect liarmony of the day. Therefore she preferred to
Bay nothing. But lie needed no reply. He read it in her
eyes :

" The less you will endeavor to correct and atone, the
more our strained relations will improve. They'll be the
best, it you'll put distance between us."

In a moment the light of his joy lost its luster. Anger
and regret took possession of his heart. Gazing at her
tender, kind face he felt that with every passing moment
she becomes dearer to him, as well as inaccessible and lost
forever. The entrance of Lida put an end to his moment
of torture. The child ran into the room, her hair dishev-
elled, joyous and smiling. At the sight of the silent
couple, she suddenly stopped, and let her large, blue eyes
wander from one to the other, then, without a word, she
sat down at the table where tea was to be served. Her gay
manner changed instantly, although Polanetzki crushed
the pain that gnawed at his heart, and endeavored to be
lively and talkative. But he addressed Marinya no
longer. He cliatted gaily with Lida and her mother, and
strangely enough — Marinya somehow felt that this was
unkind to her. That it wa • meant as another rebuke, an-
other insult. The next aay Panni Chavastovska and
Lida were invited to spend the evening with the Plavit-
zkis. Polanetzki was also invited, but did not come.
This again stung Marinya to the quick. Such, apparently,
is human nature. Anger, chagrin, as well as love, de-
mands the presence of the person with whom you are
angiy. The whole evening Marinya had her eyes on the
door, and when finally the hour arrived, when she could
no longer expect Polanetzki, she began to flirt with
Mashko, and in such vigorous manner, that Panni Chava-
stovska was exceedingly astonished.

135

lithe

3(1 to
u her

e, tho
)e the

Vnger
it her
anient
d lost
oment
ishev-
silent
e eyes
xl, she
:er gay
rushed
[ to be
ya no
ir, and
is was
ke, aii-
ca and
Plavit-

come.

ently,
ve, de-
)u are

on the

could
with

Chava-

CHAPTER XII.

Mashko was a very capable man, but also very vain
and self-confident. He saw no reason why lie should not
regard Marinya's smiles and other proofs of good will as
the genuine article. True, her flirtation and the sudden
change in her conduct did not escape his notice, and
somewhat disheartened him. That alone, however, was
not sufficiently strong to prevent him from taking a deci-
sive step. Bigel's presumption that Mashko was in love,
was true. Long before his purchase of Kremen, Marinya's
blue eyes found their way into his lieart. He liked her
exceedingly.

He considered the matter carefully, pro and con, and
finally came to the conclusion that " pro " held the balance
on the scales.

Mashko keenly appreciated the power of wealth for
which he struggled and schemed, but gifted with a sober
mind, and knowing his own position in society, 1;-^ was
convinced that his efforts to wed a very wealthy girl a 'ild
be futile. Girls with large dowries were to be found
either among the aristocracy, which shut its doors against
him, or in the financial world, which in turn longed to
rub its shoulders against men possessing titles or noted
pedigrees. And no one knew this better than Mashko
himself, that the painted prelates and knights on his walls,
that served Bukatzki as a target, could not open for him
the doors of the fire-proof safes of the bankers. And
then his very profession of a lawyer would, in the eyes
of the stout financiers, merely be a dimiyiutio capitis.
Beside, he felt a natural, aye, even a sort of social repug-
nance toward unions of such character, wheieas well-bred
girls had their certain charms so dear to a i)arvenue.
Panna Plavitzka had no dowry, or if she had, it was too
insignificant to be worth considering. But to marry her
meant to gain freedom from all obligations involved in the

-s^ismk'm^i .

5*****«««Mta«B.-.;

136

purchase of Kremen. There were other advantages. To
get the bulk of the local nobility's clientele was his old-
time ambition. This would be realized by his entrance
into the family of Plavitzki whose connections were rich
and distinguished.

The Plavitzkis, like the rest of the country gentry, had
relatives more or less distant whom they persistently
ignored. But they also had such into whose exclusive
circle they were never welcomed. This was prompted on
either side, not by piide but rather by the fact that each
and every one chose his friends more or less equal to him-
self in his condition of life. However rare, family re-
unions were certain to bring together the rich and the
poor ; cement over for a time the almost severed ties of
relationship. And Mashko anticipated, not without a
proud joy, that his wedding would be witnessed by some
of the richest noblemen, whose friendship and confidence
he hoped to cultivate in the future. Naturally all de-
pended upon his own ability to make a favorable impres-
sion, to convince them that it would not only be proper
but also beneficial to themselves to intrust their affairs
into the hands of a noted lawyer, one of their own class,
one of their relatives. This would be a valuable dowry
by itself, which they could easily afford to give to their
kinswoman. Mashko was morally certain that he could
win them and finally conquer them. He knew that at
first they would call upon him for legal advice as to an
intimate friend or old acquaintance, who accidentally
knows a thing or two in that line. Then when his
advice had proven beneficial, they would come more fre-
quently, and at last, become his clients. Tims, helping
others, he would climb to high ground himself, clear
Kremen of its encumbrances, and in time bid farewell to
the law, toward which he felt no prrticular sympathy,
which he considered merely a means to reach his goal, to
gain a firm foothold in social spheres, as an independent
man, as a representative of a large fortune.

All this he foresaw and considered, before he deter-
mined to propose to Marinya.

One thing he overlooked ; he had not believed himself
capable of loving Marinya so ardently as he did. At

'}:l

137

old-
mce
rich

had

sntly

isive

id on

each

him-

y re-

i the

es of

)ut a

some

dence

,11 de-

npres-

proper

affairs
class,

dowry

their

could

hat at

3 to an
ntally

en his

■»re fre-

lelping
clear

well to

ipathy,

Toal, to

)endent

deter-

h 'mi self
d. At

first, it set him wild. He thought that passion des-
troys the equilibrium, which every member of tlie liighest
society must know how to preserve. This equilibrium
was one of his illusions, one of his mirages. Had he
not been forced to knock at the door of this society, or
in other words, had he been born there, he would have
allowed his lieart full sway. Notwithstanding all his
talents, lie was not alive to the fact that one of the few
privileges of that ^vorld that considered itself the most
favored one by men and fortune, was its freedom.

He was, therefore, far from delighted that his heart
melted and gave away at the sight of Marinya. On the
other hand, the very goal he was striving for received
every day a new and brighter shade of happiness, a bliss
that often intoxicated him.

Mashko had lived over thirty years without knowing
the meaning of the words exaltation, enthusiasm. Now
he was aware for the first time how much beauty, how
much bliss there was in those words, for his soul was
filled with enthusiasm for Marinya. At times, when the
guest of Plavitzki, Mashko's thoughts were so occupied
with Marinj'a in her retreat in the room adjoining, that he
understood Plavitzki's words with difficult3^ When she
entered, there sprung up in his heart soft and tender feel-
ings, which made him seem better, nobler than he really
was. His eyes betrayed him. The flush on his cheeks
which reminded his friends of Vaskovski, became brighter,
liis whole figure lost its unnatural affectation, and when
he let his fingers wander through his side-whiskers, he
did it not like an English lord, but like a common mortal
sadly in love. He was so much in love, so completely
smitten that if unsuccessful in his suit, he might have
become a dangerous man, from a moral standpoint, the
more so that he was indeed a very positive, energetic
man. He had never known what love was before.

Marinya was the first to awaken within him all that was
capable of loving. She was not a universally acknowledged
belle, but she possessed the charm of womanliness, which
like a magnet drew 4o itself the most energetic natures.
In her tender features there was something similar to a
clinging plant. Her face was calm and serene, her eyes

f
f

ii^M

:'4>s^^^i*5?'

'^••tl'ttlffiiiiiiri'LiPi

138

were transparent, her mouth somewhat thoughtful. All
this at the first meeting did not produce a very strong im-
pression. But in the course of time the most indifferent
man noticed in her some peculiar feature, something which
he could not help loving and admiring. At last, to com-
plete the description, tlie more Mashko felt improved mor-
ally, influenced by Marinya's presence, the lower went the
spirits of tlie latter. Since the day she came to Warsaw
the loss of Kremen left a void in her soul. Deprived of
her w^ork she lacked an aim in life. To add to her dis-
comfiture the late events piled upon her many a grievous
burden, which finally became sore wounds of the heart.

Marinya herself was conscious of it, and a few days
after the evening on which Polanetzki failed to make his
appearance, she was the first to touch upon the subject to
Panni Chavastovska. They were seated together in the
twilight, in the room adjoining Lida's.

" I notice," said Marinya, '* that we are not as sincere
with each other as we have been. I wished to speak to
you frankly, but could not sum up the courage. It seems
to me that I am no longer wortliy of your friendship."

Panni Chavastovska drew nearer to Marinya, bent her
pretty head and kissed her girl-friend on the temple.

*' Oh, Marinya ! " exclaimed she reproachfully, " and you
say that! you — always so thoughtful and composed ? "

" I say it, because I was more worthy in Kremen than 1
am here. You cannot imagine how deeply attached I was
to that spot. There I cherislied the hope that time would
bring for me some happy and blissful event. It is all
gone and lost now. I feel lost in this Warsaw and cannot
find myself, and, worse than all, I cannot find my former
frankness and sincerity. I noticed your astonishment at
my flirting with Mashko. Do not say that you saw noth-
ing. Do you believe, I fully understood myself, why
it was done? I have now become meaner, angry with
myself, with him, with the entire world. I have no
love for him, and shall never marry him, and therefore
acted dishonestly, which I confess with shame. There
are moments lately when I desire to offend, to hurt some-
body. You must cease to be my friend, and sever all our
connection, for I have changed, indeed, and for the worse,"

139

»?

all
mnot
)rmer
nt at
uoth-
why
with
e no
-efore
There
soiiie-
11 our

orse.

Tears rolled clown Marinya's cheeks. The young widoM
began to pet and caress her like a chihl.

*'Mashko," said she, "evidently courts you with a pre-
conceiv^ed plan, and I felt sure you were at least in sym-
pathy witFi his intentions. 1 will now admit to you
frankly thai; I was sorely grieved, hecause he is not for
you. But, knowing your fondness for Kremen, I thought
that you chose this me.Jis of becoming its mistress again."

" Indeed, I entertained this idea for some time, and I
wished to assure myself tliat I liked Mashko. I did not
want to repulse him. I thought of anotlicr, but also of
Kremen. But I could not quite convince myself. I do
not want Kremen at such a i)rice ; but here is just where
the dishonesty is shown. Why do I deceive him, give him
false hopes ? It's dishonest ; it is ."

" Yes, I agree, it is not riglit that you encourage and
deceive him, but I believe I can understand why you do
it. It is to avenge the wrong and insult heaped upon 3'ou
by another. Is it not true ? But comfort j^ourself, my
dear, if only with tlie certainty that the wrong can be
repaired. You can even to-morrow change your conduct
toward Mashko. And you nuist do it, jMarinya, before it
is too late, before you promise him anything. I know it
all, Marinya, I understand it."

"But you see, wheu I am with you and meditate and
ponder, as before, as a truthful and honest girl, I feel that
not only my words, but my actions bind me. He might
tell me this."

'* Your reply must be that you wished to find out if you
loved him, but you found you couldn't. At any event
this is your only escape."

A moment of silence ensued. Both friends felt that
they had not referred yet to the subject they were both
eager to discuss, at least something that was of groat
interest to Panni Chavastovska. Taking lier hand, she
said slowly: " Now, admit, Marinya, that you flirted with
Mashko because you felt slighted by JStanislav."

*'I do," answered Panna Plavitzka."

" Does it not ;iiean that the impression received the first
day after his arrival in Kremen, and your subsequent con-
versation did not leave your mind.'*"

;.K,

•:.<*i^fe%*!*4*s<-

140

" Would they were forever banished from my thoughts I **

** You cannot believe, dear, what a good, what a sym-
pathetic, noble man he is ! I say it not because he is
friendly to us. True, he loves Lida, and for this I am
grateful to hiiu with all my heart and soul; but you know
that this kind of affection is not generally very deep nor
very warm — merely a summer feeling. But eveii in this
he is an unique exception. Judge for yourself: when
Lida was suddenly taken ill in Reichenhall he seat for a
famous physician from Monachium, assuring us that the
doctor was called for another patient. He advised me to
avail myself of this rare opportunity and let the physician
pass his opinion on Lida's case. You see how thoughtful
Polanetzki is, how loving. He is a man one can rely
upon — energetic, truthful. There are men more intelli-
gent, but tliey lack his energy ; there are others possess-
ing plenty of energy, but no delicacy of feeling. He is
gifted with both. I forgot to tell you what a great help
my brother found in Polanetzki when Lida's small fortune
was scattered and he attempted to save it. Had Lida
been of age, I know of no man I'd sooner trust her future
with than Polanetzki. I cannot mention half the kind
things he did for me and mine."

" If they were as many as the injuries he has done to
me, tliey were very many indeed."

" No, Marinya, he did not want to do it. Ah, if you
only knew how he suffers for his error, how sincerely he
admits his guilt I "

**He told me as much himself," replied Marinya.
**I, my dear Emil^^a, have thought of it very much, and
to tell the truth, I do not find that he is in any manner
guilty. He was so kind when in Kremen. Only to
you i will say, and I have already written to that effect,
that on that Sunday evening he spent with us I went to
bed my head and heart filled to overflowing with such
beautiful thoughts and feelings that I am really ashamed
to admit it. . . I felt that if he were to linger with us
another day I would love him for the rest of my days. I
imagined that he, too. Put he departed the next morn-
ing in an angry mood. . . My father v/as to blame.
So was I. 1 readily understood it, and you remember

141

the contents of the letter I wrote to yon at Reichenhall.
He went away, and I know not why. I tliought that he
would come back to me, tliat he would write. Some-
tiling within me told me that he would not take
Kremen away from me. He did. And then I know
tliat Mashko was frank with him. But he urged Masli-
ko to buy his claim : he insisted that I never entered
his tlioughts. . . Ah, Emilya ! He may not be to
blame, but how much grief he has caused me ! It was his
fault, that I lost not only the nest I loved, the place I
worked in, the place of my birth, but sometliing
more important — my faith iii life, in men ; my faith in
the common conviction that all nobler and better things
in this world must perforce be given a higher place than
the low and the vulgar ones. I am becoming wicked.
I do not recognize myself. Of course lie liad the legal
right to act as he did. Very well then. I understand it
and lay no blame at his door. And yet, ... he
shattered within me a life-spring wliich it will be almost
impossible to repair. How would you liave it done?
What is it to me that he regrets his act and is ready even
to marry me? What is it to me that I, who almost loved
him, not only do so no longer, but must defend myself
against tlie feelings of contempt and hatred that creep
stealthily into my heart. Had I been simply indifferent
to him it would not have been so bad. I know what you
wish me to do. But, my dear, oiie must build her life on
love, not on hatred. How can I offer liim my liand with
the conviction constantly tormenting me that, whether
guilty or not, he was the cause of so much grief, so many
broken hopes, so many bitter feelings? You might think
I am not aware of liis fervent wooing. But what can I
do if the more I see him the stronger grows the aversion
he inspires? And if Iliad to choose between him and
Mashko, the latter would be my choice, although, as a
man, I think much less of him. I agree with all the good
things you say in his favor, but to one and all my reply
will i)e: "I love him not, and never will."

The eyes of the widow filled with tears. " Poor Stan-
islav !" she uttered to lierself, and then, after a pause, in-
quired ; " And you are not sorry for him ? "

142

'* No. I am sorry for liim Avhom first I saw in Kremen.
My sympathies are with him when I don't see him. . .
But meeting him. . . I feel towards him nothing but
dislike."

" Because you don't know liow miserable he was in
Reichenhall. Now he suffers more intensely. He has no
one in the world."

" He has your friendsliip and Lida's love."

" Oil, that is another thing ! I am grateful from the
depths of my heart for his attachment to Lida, but this is
absohitely a diiferent tiling altogether. . . You com-
prehend it very well yourself, I ho2)e, that he loves you
a hundred times more than he does Lida."

The room by this time was perfectly dark, but soon a
servant brought in a lighted lamp and set it on the table.
By the light of the lamp Paiini Chavastovska accidentally
noticed a white object lying on a sofa near the doors lead-
inof into her daugliter's room.

" Who is there ? Can it be Lida? " asked the alarmed
mother."

"I, mamma!" replied the child."

Tliere was something [leculiar, unusual in lier voice.
The mother rose and went hastily to her.

"When did you come in here? What ails you?"

Panni Chavastovska sat down on the sofa, and drew
her little girl to lier breast. She noticed tears in her eyes.

" What is it, my Lida — were you crying ? What is the
matter with you, my child ? "

" I feel so sad, so bad, mamma."

And pressing her head to her mother's breast, she
wept bitterly. She was made miserable by the thought
that lier " Pan Stach " was even more wretched than he
was in Reichenhall, that he loved Marinyaa hundred times
more than he loved her. The same night when going to
bed she whispered into her motlier's ear :

*' Mamma dear, one great sin lies like a stone upon my
soul."

" My poor darling ! What sin torments my innocent
little dove ? "

And the little girl lowered her voice : " I do not love
Marinya ! "

143

CHAPTER Xm.

she

love

Panni Chavastovska, Lida, Marinya, and Plavitzki
were going to dine with Bigel in liis cottage in the forest,
within two a.id a half hours ride from the city. It was
a warm September day. The trees still retained their
fresh green leaves, although here and there some red and
yellow tints were to be seen. This pale and golden-hued
autumn day reminded Marinya of her village life, of the
odor of grain in the granaries, of tlie fields and meadows
symmetrically covered with stacks of corn and hay, which
winding for a considerable distance were lost among the
alder trees. Her heart pined for that quiet life, in com-
parison with which the city seemed to her a nest of idlers,
notwithstanding the life that teemed within it, a life she
could not harmonize with. Now she knew that that life
in which she found her joy, and which knew her worth,
was lost to her forever; and she saw nothing before her
to compensate her for that loss. It was in her power to
return to all that was dear to her — as the wife of Mashko ;
but at the very thought of it, grief rent her heart, and
Mashko, with his self-admiration, liis flushed cheeks, his
side-wliiskers, and aping the manners of an English lord
— became to her hateful, detestable. Never before, as
at uiat moment, had she felt so wronged b)^ Polanetzki,
who had bereft her of Kremen and sent Masliko to
her instead. For the first time slie felt an instinctive
abhorrence to the latter. Slie pictured to herself her life
with her father on the pavements of Warsaw, without
aim or purpose, witliout work, without an ideal, with a
regret for the past, and emptiness staring at lier in the
future.

Thus, instead of this balmy autumn day quieting her,
it made her gloomy and dejected. The journey was not
a merry one for all participants. Lida sat quiet like a
mouse, her pretty face dark and without its usual sweet

~. .it^s^-ta-f-,-

144

•"^

smile because her Pan Stacli was not with her. Her
mother was all attention, fearing, watching for symptoms
of a new attack.

Plavitzki alone of the little group feeling at ease, was
gay and talkative. Dressed in his immaculate black suit
and light overcoat, his moustaches skillfully curled up-
ward, he deemed himself perfect, as far as good looks went.
The anticipated atta-ck of rheumatism to wliich he was
subjected was not present to mar his happiness, and he
felt strong and vigorous. To add to his cup of bliss, be-
side him sat the most beautiful woman in Warsaw, who,
he hoped, could not remain indifferent to liis beauty, and
would duly appieciate it. And indeed, he was captivat-
ing, from his own point of view : he was so versatile, so
full of various moods ; now he was absolutely swollen with
his own dignity, now cunning, then fatherly affable and
kind. Asserting that the youth of our day were not polite
enough to the fair sex, he almost spent himself in dancing
around Panni Chavastovska, drew from dust-covered myth-
ology for complimentary comparisons, which was partly
in place, for he looked upon the young widow as would a
satyr. But all his compliments and flatteries were received
with a faint smile and were left unheeded, which evidently
had tlie desired dampening effect. He took offense, and
switched around to other subjects. He dwelt at some
lengtli upon the fact that his daughter having formed ac-
quaintances with certain people, he was obliged to recog-
nize the bourgeoisie^ at which he rejoiced at the end. He
had seen such types of individuals and societies before
only on the stage. In real life, however, one must come
in contact witli all sorts of people, as one may learn some-
tliing even from them, and he came to the conclusion, that
men of a higher caste are in duty bound not to turn tlie
cold face to persons of lower grades ; but on the contrary
win tlieir good will, tlius sp^-eading among them the seeds
of healtliy [)rinciples of life. As a man who always ful-
filled his duties toward society, he would not shrink now
before such a noble mission, but act hand in hand with
the rest. Thanks to this determination his dignified face
had assumed a most melancholy expression, when they
approached Bigel's cottage.

145

np-

Tliis cottage was built in tlie h(3art of a pine forest,
not far from a row of otlier dwellings, surrounded by
large old pine trees ilu^c mysteriously shook their tops.
Tliey marveled at the presence in the midst of the for-
mer stillness of the woods, of this new, pretty cottage.
Tliey sheltered it, however, in the most hospitable man-
ner, from the gusts of wind, and, when the sun shouv^
bi'ightly. filled it with a balsam-like odor of their needles
and gum.

The entire Bigel family came forward to meet their
guests. Panni Bigel, who dearly loved Mariny:*,, extended
to her a hearty welcome, apparently hoping to win her
favor for Polanetzki. She thought that the longer Marinya
would move in their circle, and discover that she was at
liome there, the less difficulty there would be to manage
her. Plavitzki, who made Bigel's acquaintance during
his first visit to Warsaw at the iiouse of Chavastovska, and
limited his recognition cf the fact to the sending in of his
card, now played the purt of an amiable prince, as only
a highly-bred man could perform it, fulfilling liis mission
of capturing the *' bourgeoisie." He kissed the hand of
Panni Bigel and to her husband said, withacondesce"Jing
smile : *'At the present time any man should be delighted
to find himself under the roof of a man like you, sir; but it
is a double pleasure to me, because my cousin Polanetzki
adopted the business profession and is at present your
partner."

" Polanetzki is a clever man," simply said Bigel, shaking
Plavitzki's gloved hand.

The ladies went inside to rearrange their dresses, and
soon returned to the veranda, the day being warm.

" Polanetzki has not arrived yet ? " asked Panni
Chavastovska.

'* He arrived here this morning," replied Panni Bigel.
But he went to pay liis respects to Panni Kraslavski. She
lives not far from here," added she, tui-niiig to Marinya,
"not more than two miles distant. There are many cot-
tages in the vicinity, but the Kraslavskis are our nearest
neighbors."

"I remember Theresa Kraslavski from the time of the
carnival," said Marinya, "she was always so pale.'*

1 1,,

■ tNJW^^^W'^*' ■■

146

"She is quite pale even now. Last winter she spent in
Pan."

In the meantime Bigel's children, fond of Lida, took
her along for a ramble around the cottage. The little
girls showed Lida their garden built among the pines,
where it seemed notliing could take root and grow save
the piiios tlieinselves. The boys also participated in the
fun : at first they attacked and demolished the beds of
Georgina, selecting for Lida the choicest flowers, tlien they
quarreled over what games Lida loved best, and ran to
have their troubles settled by Panni Chavastovska as
iudge. Edy, who always spoke in loud tones, closing his
eyes while he argued, began to yell :

*' I say that Lida likes ring-toss best, but I don't kno^^
whether she has your permission to play the game."

** Yes, if she does not run, which is not good for her."

" No, we will not run. We Avill throw our hoops so
that she may catch them where she stands. And if Yuzia
can't do it, let him throw it to some one else."

*'I, too, want to throw my hoop to her," wailed Yuzia.

And at the thought that he was to be robbed of the
pleasure he pouted his lips. But Lida averted the tears
by saying : *' I will tlirow mine to you, Yuzia, very often ;
I will, indeed."

And the moist eyes of Yuzia beamed aiid he smiled
triumphantly.

'* They will not slight the boy," remarked Panni Bigel,
addressing the widow. " But how strange ! my boys are
such dare-devils generally, but look how cautious they are
now — how they love your Lida. We owe this to Polan-
etzki ; it is his education of the youngsters that accom-
plished it."

" Oh, your children are very lovely, they have few
equals in the world," said Panni Chavastovska.

At the same time the children gathered in a group to
pick out their hoops and sticks. In the midst of the merry
party stood the tallest and oldest of them, Lida. And
although Bigel's children were considered pretty, yet
Lida, with her delicate poetic countenance, seemed among
them a l:)eing from another planet. Panni Bigel's atten-
tion was attracted by the scene.

14T

((

few

Look," said she, " a real queen. I cannot take ray eyes
Irom her."

*' Such a noble face," added Bigel. Panni Chavas-
tcvska gazed with loving eyes upon her only child.

Tlie little ones scattered over the square and finally
took their positions forming a large circle, and on the dark
background of the pine-needles looked like multi-colored
spots, and in comparison witli the tall trees above them as
small as flies. Marinya stepped down from the piazza and
took her position at tlie side of Lida to lielp her catch the
rings, and thus save her from exhaustion. At this moment
in the broad forest path leading to the cottage appeared
the manly figure of Polanetzki. At fust the cliildren did
not notice him, but he, casting his glance toward the
house, espied the light dress of Marinya and quickened
his pace. Lida, knowing that her motlier dreaded her
slightest fatigue and unnecessary exertion, knelt on the
ground motionless, catching only those rings that came
witliin lier grasp. Marinya, however, ran with the others.
As the result of tliis running to and fro, her hair loosened
and became dislievelled, so that she halted every moment
to put it in order again. At the moment Polanetzki
entered the gates she stood there flushed, with her hands
on her hair. He did not take his eyes from her. In
this large yard slie seemed to him younger and smaller,
and looked so virgin-like, so feminine and attractive, as
if created to be pressed to one's heart as the most pre-
cious being in the world.

Seeing him the children dropped their rings, and with
whoops and yells rushed to meet him. The game was
forgotten. Lida rose to her feet and wanted to join
her little friends, but suddenly halted, looked with her
large eyes first at Marinya then in the direction of Pola-
netzki.

" Don't you want to run and greet Pan Polanetzki ? '*
asked Marinya.

" No "

« Why ? "
*' Because

»»

The child blushed crimson. Apparently she could not
or dared not express her thoughts, which could bo framed

«we»,;«f^>-lit*:-

148

■4 ■

ill these words : " because he loves you more, because he
lias eyes only for you '*

In the meantime Polanetzki drew nearer, defendirg
himself from the chihh'en and saying: "Let me go, little
devils, or I will crush you all with my big feet."

He extended his hiind to Marinya, looking at her almost
pleadingly, begging for a friendly smile. Then he turned
to Lida : " Ah, my little kitten — How are you ? " And the
child, forgetting at the sight of him the pangs of her
little heart, put botli her Jiaiids in liis, and said : " Oh,
yes, I am well — yesterday Pan Stach did not come to us
— I felt lonesome, — and now I must bring you to mamma
for punishment."

A moment later they were all grouped on the piazza.

** Hov/ are the Kraslavskis ? " inquired Panni Chavas-
tovska.

" They are well and getting ready to come here after
dinner," replied Polanetzki.

About noon, just before dinner, Vaskovski arrived
bringing with him Bukatzki, who had returned to Warsaw
the previous night. Thanks to his friendly relations with
Bigel he came when he pleased, without W{»"ting for a
special invitation. The presence of Panni Chavastovska
was too great a temptation for h'lii to resist. However,
he greeted her without sentimental effusions, joking as was
liis custom. She was also delighted to see him, for he
amused her with his original and peculiar way of expressing
his views.

" You intended to go to Monachium and Italy ?" she
asked when all the guests took their seats around the table.

*" Yes," replied he, " but I forgot in Warsaw my paper
knife, and I came back."

" Oh, that is a weighty reason ! "

*' It often bores me to discover that people act al-
ways in obedience to ' weighty reasons.' What a niono-
l)oly have those ' weighty reasons,' that every one of us
must submit to them ? And besides, I accidentally paid a
last debt to my fiiend Lisovich by witnessing his funeral."

" You mean that small, thin sportsman ? " asked Bigel.

" Y^es, and just imagine. I have not until this very
liour recovered my sense:* from the astonishment of how

149

that man, who pUiyed tlio clown his whoh? life-time, could
l)ick up courage enougli to die. I simj)ly fail to recog-
nize my Lisovich ! At every step no\v-a-chiys a man meets
with deceptions."

" To-day Panni Kraslavski informed me," — interrupted
Polanetzki, " that Ploshovski, the idol of all Warsaw
belles, blew his brains out in Rome."

" He was my relative ! " remarked Plavitzki. This
last bit of news affected Panni Chavastovska more than the
rest. She did not know Ploshovski personally, but had
met him several times at his aunt's. She knew of the old
woman's great affection for her nephew.

"God I what a misfortune I " exclaimed she.

" But is it true ? so young, so capable, — rich. Poor
Panni Plcshovzki ! "

**And what a large estate was left without an heir!"
added BiL;ol. " I know them well for they lived not far
from Warsaw. The old maid, his aunt, had two relatives.
Panni Krovitski — a very distant relation, and Leonti
Ploshovski. The}'- are both dead now."

The last words put new life into Plavitzki. He was
indeed, related to the old Ploshovski and met her two or
three times during her life-time. But after each meeting
he retained only a recollection of dread, for the old maid
at each interview bluntly told him some bitter truths
about himself, or to put it stronger, handled him without
gloves. He avoided meeting her again, and thus their re-
lations were severed, though on favorable occasions he
loved to brag of his connection with th«at rich and noted
family. He belonged to that class of people so numerous in
our part of the country, who are firmly convinced that
God created them for the sole purpose of growing rich and
fat on legacies, — a class that deems expectation for such
legacies quite proper, — and their collection a necessity.
Plavitski solemnly said :

" Maybe God in His wisdom has decided that all
their wealth shall pass into other hands chat will make a
better use of it."

" I also met Ploshovski once, abro.id," remarked Pola-
netzki, and he impressed me as an extraordinary mau. I
remember him now, verv well."

'?i

150

** lie was such a nice, sympathetic man,'* added Panni
Bigel.

'* God have mercy on his soul ! " said Vaskovski, " I
knew him myself. He was a true Aryan."

" An Azoryan," corrected Plavitski.

*' An Aryan," repeated the professor.

" An Azoryan," said Plavitski with dignity, emphasizing
each word.

The two old men looked at each other in confusion,
knowing not that they argued to the great delight of
Bukatzki, who, fixing his monocle, asked :

" Well, how is it, professor : an Aryan, or Azoryan ? "

Polanetzki cleared the mystery by explaining that
Azorya was the escutcheon of the Ploshc ski family.
He was therefore both Aryan and Azoryan. Plavitski,
however, would not consent to this explanation. He
insisted that a man with an old, spotless name, has no
right to be ashamed of it, and deny it.

Meanwhile, Bukatzki turned to Panni Chavastovska and
began to converse with her in liis usual frigid tone.

" Only one form of suicide is pardonable, namely,
suicide committed by a man sorely disappointed in love.
This cause nearly drove me to suicide : I thought of it for
many years — in vain ! "

" They say that suicide is cowardice,'' said Marinya.

*' That is just why I 'lon't commit suicide : I am too
brave."

" Let's talk of life — never mind death. Think of life
and of the best there is in it. I drink your health, Panni
Chavastovska ! " concluded Bigel.

" And Lida," added Polanetzki, then he turned to Ma-
rinya and added : " I drink the health of our two friends."

" Thank you ! " said Marinya.

Polanetzki lowered his voice, and continued : " You see,
T consider all those around me not merely my friends,

but , how shall I express it to you? — defenders — pro-

tec:tors. Lida is a cliild yet, but Panni Chavastovska
surely knows whom she may or may not honor with her
fiienilship. This is to prove tliat, were there anybody,
with a prejudice that was just, to lay the blame at my
door for acts committed rashly and thoughtlessly, he

151

would have to take into consideration that I could not
be very bad, after all, if Panni Chavastovska protects me
with her wings of friendship."

Marinya was somewhat taken aback, and confused,
but she was sorry for him when he added, in a still lower
voice: "And I am indeed suffering, for I am ill at
ease." . . . But before slie could answer Plavitzki
offered a toast, drinking to the health of the hostess,
making a lengthy speech, the essence of wliicli was that a
woman was a queen, and being a queen she has a right to
expect all men to bow to her will, wherefore he always
revered women in general, and to-night Panni Bigel
especially. Polanetzski i!i his soul wislied him to choke,
for it robbed him of the one dear word Marinya might
have uttered. He felt that that moment would not return
again, as Marinya rose to kiss the liostc js, and, returning,
did not renew the conversation, while he dared not request
an answer.

Soon after dinner the Kraslavskis came : the mother, a
woman about fifty, lively in her movements, self-confident
and talkative; the daughter, a perfect contrast, yellow,
dry, cold, a pale thougli pleasant face, reminding one of
Holdbein's Madonnas. Polanetzki began to entertain her,
stealing from time to time a glance at Marinya, at lier
fresh, liealthy face, her blue eyes, and even said to him-
elf : '* Oh, you cruel thing! If she would say only one
kind word ! "

He lost his good humor more and more, and wlien Panna
Kraslavski addressed lier mother "• niemme," instead of
*' mamma," he rudely asked, " How did you say?"

But " Memme " was busy unloading a basketful of gos-
sip, news, and conjectures pertaining to the suicide of
Plosliovski.

*' Just think of it, gentlemen," said she with enthu-
siasm, "the idea just struck me tliat he shot himself be-
cause of his love for Panni Krovitski, peace to lier aslies.
She was a born coquette, and I detested lier. She flirted
with him so cruelly, so unceremoniously, that I was afraid
to take Theresa along with me whenever I expected to be
in their company. This is a bad example for a young girl.
What is true is true. Theresa had no love for her, either."

"'" ^^W^W^^^P**^^*''^*

152

"Ah, Panni Kraslavski ! " indignantly protested the
widow, " I have often heard that Panni Krovitski is an
angel."

Bukatzki, wlio never laid his eyes on tlie lady in ques-
tion, turned to Kraslavski and plilegniatically assured
her:

" Madame, je vous donne ma parole d'honneur — she was
an archangel."

For a moment Kraslavski was silent, knowing not what
to say. Then she blushed, and was ready with a quick
and harsh repartee, but she remembered that Bukatzki
was reputed wealthy, and might be cultivated with some
success for her Theresa. Slie also had her eye on Pola-
netzki, and, like a shrewd general, kept up her relations
with tlie Bigels for the former's sake. At all other times
she ignored the latter most shamefully.

"Then," said she at last, "you think every pretty
woman an angel or an archangel? I abhor it, even
when my own Theresa is concerned. Panni Krovitski
might have been considered a very nice girl but for her
lack of tact. That's all."

The conversation about Ploshovski was thus abruptly
ended. Tlie attention of Panni Kraslavski was, more-
over, riveted most of the time on Polanetzki, who made
frantic efforts to entertain her daughier. He did it to
spite Marinya, and tried to persuade himself that it was a
pleasant task. He even gave liimself the trouble to try
to discover in the younger Kraslavski charms unknown
before, and finally did discover that she had a slender
neck and somber ej'^es that lighted and beamed when they
turned quickly towards him, which was frequently. He
also detected that she could be a silent despot, for when-
ever her mother let her tongue loose or raised her voice a
few octaves higher, she put the lorgnette to her eyes and
looked at her fixedly, which soon produced a wonderful
effect — Kraslavski senior lowered her voice or stopped
altogetlier. Withal, Theresa bored liim mercilessly,
and if he stuck to his post, it was the work of despair.
He hoped to awaken, at least, a slight shade of envy in tlie
heart of Panna Plavitzki. Perfectly clever men often
take refuge under such strategies when pressed to tha

153

id the
is an

ques-
ssured

he was

t what
quick
ikatzki
1 some
1 Pola-
lations
r times

pretty
t, even
ovitski
for her

bruptly
more-
made
it to
it was a
to try
iknown
slender
en they
. He
when-
voice a
,'es and
nderful
topped
ilessly,
despair.
y in the
n often
, to the

wall by strong emotions. Naturally, they often produce
impressions just opposite to those they expect to create,
and make reconciliation more difficult. At length Pola-
netzki longed so for Marinya that he would have willingly
listened to some rude remark from her if it would have
been tlie means of throwing them together and giving him
an opportunity to address her. But it seemed more im-
probable now than an hour before. And he heaved a deep
sigh when the evening was at an end and the guests pre-
pared to depart. Lida approached her mother, encircling
her neck with her tiny arms, and whispered something in
her ear. Panni Chavastovska nodded her assent and
walked up to Polanetzki. *' If you have no intention of
spending the night here," said she, " ride home with us.
We will put Lida between us — myself and Marinya— and
there'll be plenty of room for you."

"Very well. I cannot stay here over night, and am
very grateful to you for the suggestion."

He guessed who was the author of the project, and said
to Lida:

" It's all your work, my dear little pussy ! "

Lida, partly behind her mother, raised her sad, joyous
eyes, and asked in a whisper : " Have I done — well, Pan
Stach? Do you like it so?"

They were on their way home a few minutes later.
After a beautiful day, came a still more lovely nigbt,
fresh and cool, light and silvery, with the faint gleam of
the moon. Polanetzki, for whom the evening had
dragged along dreadfully slow and uninteresting, breatlied
freely the balmy air, and again felt almost happy, seeing
before him two women he loved,— and a third he adored
and worshipped. By the pale light of the moon he saw
that face, and it looked to him serene, kind and tender.

Lida sank into the depths of the seat and apparently
slumbered. Polanetzki covered her with a shawl, taken
from lier motlier for the purpose, and tliey rode on in
silence. At last Panni Chavastovska broke the silence.
Slie spoke about Ploshovski, the news of whose untimely
death shocked lier.

'' Yes, indeed, there must be some sad drama in that un-
happy affair," remarked Polanetzki, " and Panni Kraslavski

■'H

,,'Wa^jiMfiL. H-fi/*. •

154

may be partly li^ht, asserting that these two deaths, follow-
ing one another so rapidly, have some connection between
them.

" This suicide is horrible, for the very fact that we con-
demn it," said Marinya. " And such condemnation creates
tlie impression that we have no feeling in the matter, have
no sympathy for the unfortunate."

*' Our sympathy is best employed when lavished on
those who are still among the living," replied Polanetzki.

Again the conversation ceased for some time. It was
renewed by Polanetzki, who pointed out a house with light
in its windows, lost in the heart of the park.

*' This is the villa of the Kraslavskis."

" I cannot forgive her for what she said of that unfortu-
nate Panni Krovitski," said the widow.

" She's a horrid woman, and do you know why ? She
slanders, she reviles for the sake of lier daughter. The
old woman sees in tlie whole world a large back ground,
which she wants to paint black, so that her Theresa may be
outlined to the best advantage. Perhaps, years ago, she
counted on Ploshovski as a possible victim, and con-
sidered Panni Krovitski a dangerous rival. In such a case
her hatred toward the dead girl is understood."

" The younger Krasln vski is a charming girl," said
Marinya.

*' There are people, for whom beyond the world of com-
radeship, begins a new world, more spacious, more at-
tractive. With her nothing begins, or rather, nothing
ends. She is a perfec*^ automaton, in whicli the heart will
beat onlv when her mother winds it up with her key.
Such gii'is in this world are not rare. There are many,
who, seeming different, are often just of this type and
character. The old story of Galatea. You will not be-
lieve that with this doll, dull and gloomy as a candle, a
friend of mine, a physician, fell desperately in love. Twice
he proposed to her and each time she rejected him, be-
cause the Kraslavskis aimed at better game. Then he en-
tered service in Holland, and probably died from fever ; at
first he wrote quite often, inquiring about this automaton.
Then the letters ceased to come.

** Is she aware of it? "

oUow-
tween

e con-
jreates
r, have

ed on
tietzki.
[t was
h light

nfortu-

? She
•. The
Tiound,
may be
go, she
id con-
1 a case

»»

said

155

" She is. I spoke to hei' several times about it. What
is most characteristic of the girl is that the recollection
of him wlio loved her never for a moment cast its
shadow upon her face. She spoke of him indiiferently
as of any other man she knew- If the poor devil hoped
that his memory would be cherished after his death, he
was sadly mistaken. I will show you some day one of his
letters. I tried to bring the fellow to his senses. His re-
sponse was : ' My judgment of her is sober, impartial.
Still I cannot tear my heart away from her.' And he was
a skeptic, a positivist, a child of our day. It appeai-s,
however, that true emotions laugh at philosophies.
Everything passes — passions remain. He also expressed
this sentiment in a letter : ' I'd rather be miserable with
her than happy with another.' What can you add to
this? The man judges her soberly, impartially, but can-
not tear his heart away from her, and that ends the mat-
ter."

*' A nd whoever gets into trouble," concluded Polanetzki
after a long pause, " must bear his cross patiently.'*

Panni Chavastovska bent over her daughter.

"Are you asleep, my kitten?"

'* No, mamma, dear," answered Lida.

»f com-
lore at-
iiothing
lait will
|er key.
many,
pe aud
not be-
landle, a
Twice
liim, be-
ll he en-
iver ; at
lomaton.

r 'TT^^'^R^ ^^^^■'f*'*

156

CHAPTER XIV

" I AM not avaricious and money is not my idol," said
Plavitski, "but if God will grant in His mercy that a
crumb, a part, of that fortune, should pass into our hands,
I could not and would not object. I do not need much.
Very soon four planks and the warm tears of my child for
whom I lived will be sufficient. But this question in-
volves Marinya.

" Allow me to draw your attention to the fact," coldly
remarked Mashko, " that first your claims are not substan-
tial, not solid."

" But I believe they can be taken into consideration."

** Second. Panni Ploshovski is still alive."

"Bntthat woman is crumbling away, turning into dust
even now. She's as old as a dry mushroom."

"Third. She may will her fortune to charitable institu-
tions."

"We can contest such a will, can we not?"

"Fourth. Your relationship is too distant. In like man-
ner, everybody is related to everybody in Poland — we're
all relatives."

**But allow me. She has no nearer kin."

" Is not Polanetzki your relative?"

" God forbid ! He's some relation to my first wife, but
not mine, not a bit."

"And Bukatzki?"

" Bukatzki is a cousin of my brother-in-law."

" And you have no other relations ? "

" The Goutovskis of Yabrijikow claim to be, but you
know peo[ le always lay claim to what is for tliem most
flattering. I have no desire nor motive to recognize
Goutovski."

Mashko purposely invented new obstacles to be able
afterward to show liim a glimpse of hope. After some
meditation, he began : " People in our part of the country

((

one

157

1," said

that a

• hands,

I much,
hild for
tion in-

coldly
mbstan-

tion."

II to dust
institu-

ke luan-
— we're

dfe, but

)ut you
in most
Bcognize

be able
lev some
country

)»

are very eager for legacies of some sort or another. At
the first smell Oi one they gather in multitudes like crows
over carrion. In such cases it often depends a good
deal on who'll compromise first, with whom and through
whose agency. E)o not forget, pray, that an active, enter-
prising man, wlio understands his business thoroughly,
can often get something out of nothing, while a man with-
out energy, without knowledge of the affair in question
will do the opposite — nothing."

" I know this myself. I've had experience. I spent
my life in litigations of various kinds, and am weary of it.
It's like a poison.'*

And Plavitzki pointed to his throat.

" Besides," added Mashko, " You run the risk of being
victimized by sharks, lawyers, who will bleed you for the
rest of your days."

*' I rely on your friendship .

" And you will not regret it. I feel a warm sympathy
for you and your daughter, and consider you as near
relations."

" I thank you in the name of the orphan," replied Pla-
vitzki. He could not utter another word from visible
emotion.

Mashko also grew serious and continued :

" But if you wish me to defend your interests, even in
case your claim is not altogether valid, you must give me
a power of attorney, give me the right to do so."

The lawyer grasped Plavitzki's hand.

" Of course, you know, what I am alluding to, and I beg
you to listen to me patiently to the end of my story."

Mashko lowered his voice, and tliough there was no
one else in the room, began to speak slowly, earnestly,
with perfect assurance, as a man who under no circum-
stance forgets who he is and what he represents.

Plavitzki listened, at times closed his eyes, shook
Mashko's hand, and finally said :

*' Please step into the parlor. I will send Marinya
thither in a moment. I know not wliat her answer may
be, but let God's will be done. I always esteemed you
highly, and now value your friendship still more*
Here I . . ."

■*"'

•-{S'WfitSPe^

158

And Plavitzki opened liis arms into which Mashko
fairly jumped, though he quickly controlled his excite-
ment, and said with dignity:

" I thank you I I thank you ! "

In a moment he was in tiie parlor.

Marinya entered the room pale, but composed. Mashko
gave her a chair, sat down himself, and began to speak :

" I am liere with the permission of your father, and
tell you nothing new, nothing tliat has not been unfolded
to you by my silence, by my glances, which I hope, you
understood. But the time has come wlien I must speak
of my feelings, and I do so with the fullest confidence in
your heart and character. Before you now sits a man,
who loves you, who is to be relied upon, who places at
your feet his whole life, and begs you to go with him
hand in hand through the journey of life."

Marinya did not answer immediately. She hesitated a
moment, as if considering her repl}^ then slowly said :
"I must say that your confession affects me very much,
unpleasantly. 1 do not desire, however, that a man like
you should be deceived in his hopes. I did not love you,
I do not now, and I shall never be your wife, even if I
have to remain an old maid to the end of my days."

Again they were both silent. Mashko's cheeks flushed
a deeper red, and his e3'es shot a cold steely glance.

" Your reply is as decisive and final as it is sudden and
painful to me. But do you not wish, before rejecting me
forever, a few days more time to consider the matter care-
fully."

'' You said yourself that I had divined your feelings. I
must have had plenty of time to think of it often ; my an-
swer is decisive and final."

Mashko's voice now became dry and sharp.

"And do you think," said he, " that your conduct has
given me no right to pro[)Ose to you, as I have ? "

Mashko was certain that Marinya would deny the allega-
tion, that she would insist he misunderstood her, that
there is nothing in his personality that would tempt her
to give him hope, in sliort, that she would beat around the
bush, the favorite method of coquettes, when pressed hard,
but she gazed at him for a second, then simply replied :

159

ashko
jxcite-

[ashko
jpeak :
r, and
folded
»e, you
speak
snce ill
\ man,
ices at
th him

:ated a
r said :
■ much,
an like
ve you,
en if I

flushed

len and
;ing me
jr care-

[ngs. I
I my an-

lict has

allega-

n\ that

|ipt her

md the

Id hard,

leplied :

"I confess that my behavior towa^-ds you was not always
what it should have been, and I most humbly and sin-
cerely beg your pardon."

Mashko was silent. A woman who dodges, who will
not face the truth, wins contempt in the eyes of a man.
But she who confesses her guilt, snatches the weapon from
the hand of any one in whose heart a single spark of noble
generous feeling is still smouldering. Besides, the only
way to touch a woman's heart is to generously overlook
her fallacy.

Mashko did so. He saw before him a yawning precipice,
but he decided to stake everything on his last card.
Though every nerve of his wounded vanity trembled
within him, he made a superhuman effort to control him-
self, and approaching Marinya, kissed her hand.

" I knew," said he, " that you dearly loved Kremen, and
I bought it to place it at your feet. I see now, that I did
not chose the riglit path, and therefore will turn backwards,
though God knows how bitter it is to me to acknowledge
defeat. In view of these events, I must beg your pardon :
You were not to blame, but I. Your peace and serenity
is dearer to me than ray own happiness, and I humbly en-
treat you to grant me only one favor, not to reproach
yourself in the least. Now, permit me to bid you good
day." He took his departure.

Marinya sat a long time alone, pale and disheartened.
She did not expect such noble conduct from Mashko.

Thinking the matter over, she thought bitterly : *' One
took away Kremen from me in order to get his own. The
other bought it to return it to me." Polanetzki lost con-
siderably by the comparison. Marinya gave no heed to the
fact that Mashko bought Kremen not from Polanetzki
but from her father, that he bought the estate for mercen-
ary reasons of his own, that lie intended to return it,
lioping to come into immediate possession of it again,
together with her heart and hand. Kremen after all, wns
not taken away from her, it was sold by her father because
lie found at last a purchaser. But her's was a woman^s
logic, and her comparison of Mashko and Polanetzki ele-
vated the former and lowered the latter. Mashko's gentle-
manly conduct affected her sensitive mind to such an ^ix-

* pi

ti^--^mtmvmfi^

•:•(

160

tent, that had sl^e not felt an instinctive repugnance for
the man, she would have called him back. There was a
moment, one brief moment only, when she deemed it her
duty to do so, but she lacked the courage.

Naturally she little suspected that at that moment
Mashko descended the stairs with despair and rage alter-
nately gnawing his heart. Before him, indeed, an abyss,
deep and hideous, opened its jaws. His calculations were
all wrong. The woman he loved, scorned his offer, and
the more she tried to soften the blow, the more he felt
humbled and insulted. All his past undertakings were
successful. He was fully conscious beforehand of his
own power.

He believed not in failure. Marinya for the first time
shook this self-confidence, and the shock almost prostrated
him.

For the first time in his life he doubted his own ability,
and felt that his star was on the wane, tliat this failure
might be the beginning of the end. Other thoughts fol-
lowed in quick succession. Mashko bought Kremen on
reasonable terms, but the estate was too heavy a burden
for his limited means.

Marinya's consent would have proven a salvation.
Plavitzki's annuity, the sn^ig sum to be paid Marinya for
her share in Magyerovka, would have been saved. They
were becoming due now, together with the claim of Pola-
netzki and other debts= The interest charged by the
usurers threatened ruin. True, he still had credit, but it
could be exhausted, and snapped like a string. Mashko
knew that with the first mishap to that string, he was
doomed forever. His dread for the future, his disappoint-
ment and regret for a happiness that might have been
his, filled him with rage and a craving for vengeance.
He was a man of energy and grim determination, trained
to pay for insult with insult, wrong for wrong.

Mashko ground his teeth, and clenched his fist. " If
you are not mine," murmured he, on his return home,
" I will never forgive that insult. If you are mine, I will
avenge it, anyhow."

After Mashko's departure Plavitzki entered Marinya*s
room.

p;'v 'n^l

,'j|!i»>v'^'''«'*^^*4t'^*''-'*y-^*''-^ ■''

ce for
was a
it her

lomeiit
B alter-

abyss,
IS were
er, and
he felt
s were

of his

st time
istrated

ability,
, failure
hts fol-
men on
burden

Ivation.

inya for
They
f Pola-
3y the
but it

Mashko
he was
ippoint-
^e been
geance.
trained

t. "If
I home,
3, I will

arinya*s

IGl

" You must have sent liim lionie a disappointed, wretched
man," said he, " or else Mashko would have come to me
for conjjratulations."

" Yes, papa, I declined the honor. . . ."

" G.ive liim no ho})e for the future? "

*' Not the least, papa, although I i-espect him very highly,
indeed, yet I could not. . . ."

*' What did lie say to you ? "

" All a man of his noble character might say."

*' A new blow ! God knows whether you have not
robbed me of my bread in my old days. However, I
might have known, that you would not take this into
consideration."

' I could not act otherwise, papa, dear."

*' I do not blame you, nor is it my intention to compel
you to go against your heart's dictation. I will now go
where every tear of an old father is seen and recorded by
the Almighty."

And he went to Lour's to watch the billiard players.
He was not averse to the idea of becoming Mashko's fatlier-
in-law. The lawyer, however, occupied not a very lofty
place in Plavitzki's estimation. He knew that Marinya
could make a still better match, and thought little of the
matter.

Half an hour later Marinya knocked at her friend's door.

" At last, one stone has fallen from my heart," said she
to Panni Chavastovska, " I refused to become Mashko's
wife."

Panni Chavastovska, without a word, embraced Marinya.

" I am sorry for him," continued Marinya. " He acted so
nobly, so delicately as only a man of his stamp could, and
were I capable of having the slightest sympathy for him,
I would bid him come back this very day."

And Marinj^a related her conversation with Mashko.
Indeed, Mashko's conduct Avas spotless, and Panni Cha-
vastovska marveled at that display of nobleness in a man
she considered rash ,tnd rough, whom she did not deem
capable of taming his violent nature in a crucial moment.

**I know, ni}^ dearest Emilya," added Marin3'a, "that
you are devoted to Polanetzki, but compare these two
men, not by their words, but by their acts and deeds.'*
6

•1;

■*«*«»* ill'!-*'-

I'', I

162

** I will never make siicli comparisons," replied Panni
Chavastovska. " How can I? In my eyes Pan Stanislav
stands a Imndred times higher and far above Mashko, and
yon judge him unjustly. You dare not say that one took
Kremen away from you, which the other wished to redeem
and return. It was not so. Polanetzki never took it
away, and were he in a position to do so to-day, he would
gladly return the property to you."

" Prejudice speaks through your lips."

" Not prejudice, but reality, which cannot change mat-
ters one jot."

Panni Chavastovska seated Marinya before her, and con-
tinued :

" You're wrong, Marinya, only reality and nothing else,
and let me tell you, it is all because you are not in-
different to Polanetzki."

Marinya trembled as if some one had wrenched her
wounded heart. After a pause, she said in a voice that
betrayed great emotion :

" You are right. I am indeed not indifferent to him,
but all my sympathy has turned into gall, into a burning
feeling of shame and dislike. And, listen, Emilya, were
I to choose to-night between Mashko and Polanetzki, I
would not hesitate a moment to give Mashko my hand."

Paimi Chavastovska dropped her head in dismay.
Marinya embraced and kissed her tenderly, then she con-
tinued :

" I am exceedingly sorry, dear, to cause you displeasure,
but I must speak the truth. I know that you will cease
to love me, and I will remain alone in the world, friend-
less."

Marinya's fears were, indeed, well founded, for though
these two old friends embraced on parting, they both felt,
when alone, that the ties that bound them together had
snapped, that their relations henceforth would never be as
cordial as they had been.

Panni Chavastovska hesitated several days before she
consented to repeat to Polanetzki her conveisation with
Marinya. Polanetzki listened to her story with bowed
head, and finally said : " I tliank you, Emilya. If Panna
Plavitzki has nothing but contempt for me, it does not

1G3

lislav
), and
took
deem
lok it
vould

5 mat-

d con-

y else,
ot in-

id her
e tliat

him,
Lirning
,, were
tzki, I
land."
ismay.
le coa-

3asure,
I cease
friend-

;hough
h felt,
r had
r be as

lie she
n with
bowed
Panna
)es not

prove that I ought to des[)ise myself. You are awaie, I
trust, that if I erred, I did my utmost to atone for the
wrong, and do not at present see that there is any blanio
attached to me. True, bitter moments are in store for me.
However, I liave never been a lielpless man, and I hope
to (ind sufheient strengtli and will power to banisli from
my hea<.t, as useless, the feelings I entertain toward Panna
Plavitzka. I most solemnly vow to do so."

" I believe you ! But a man suffcis so much at that? "

*'It matters not! "almost gaily responded Polanetzki.
" If my wound will smart and pain I will ask you to
bandage it. When such tender hands as yours will per-
form tlie operation, the wound will heal up in a short time.
Besides, Lida will also lend her helping little hand, and
not a word of complaint will escape my lips."

Polanetzki departed, feeling refreshed, encouraged, with
a new store of energy and will-power. It seemed to iiim
that he would be able to tame his passion, to crush the
feelings within him, as one breaks a cane over his kriee.
With tills plan firmly decided upon, he spent several days,
showing himself nowhereexcept at his office, in which only
strictly business transactions were allowed to occupy his
attention. He labored from morninor till evenincf, banish-
ing from his mind all thought of Marinya during the day.
But through the long sleepless nights her image tormented
him. He was conscious that Marinya could love him,
could become his wife ; that he could be happy with her
and no one else ; that he loved her as the most precious
cre{.,ture in the world. Remorse and regret did not leave
Polanetzki for a moment. He grew thin and wasted. He
discovered at last that the breaking and crushing of feel-
ings means the crushing of happiness. He saw before him
a void he could not fill. He recognized that one can love
a woman not as she is, but as she might have been. He
pined and grieved, but, controlling himself, avoided Mar-
inya. He knew she spent most of her time with Panni
Chavastovska, and he kept himself a voluntary prisoner in
his own dreary rooms.

Only when Lida again became seriously sick, did he make
his re-appearance at the widow's house, and spent there
whole aays with Marinya at the bedside of the sick child.

>.ifi*M*H»»(»«(/»i<«SS;,;v4-;«",^ «<■■

164

CHAPTER XV.

And poor Lida, after another severe attack, did not im-
prove. She lay motionless on the sofa in the parlor. Tho
physician and her mother consented to Lida's request not
to keep her confined to her bed. She loved to have Pol-
anetzki and her motlier sit by her, while she spoke of
everything tliat chanced to enter lier little mind. With
Marinya she scarcely exchanged a word, gazing at her
long and thoughtfully, she would raise her eyes toward
the ceiling and ponder, as if wishing to find the solution
to some question, or give herself a clear account of her
own thoughts. Often such thouglitful moods came up on
her when she remained alone with her mother. One af-
ternoon she suddenly awoke, as if from half-conscious
slumber, and turning to her mother, said :

" Mamma, dear, sit down by me, on the sofa."

The mother obeyed. The child embraced her mother,
laid her head on her mother's shoulder, and in a faint,
tender voice began :

" I, mamma dear, wish to ask you something — I know not
how to express myself- "

" What is it, my little one ? "

Lida was silent for a moment, as if collecting her
thouglits, then she said :

" If you love som'3 one, mamma, then what ? "

" If you love some one, then what, my Lida? "

The mother repeated the question not grasping the ob-
ject of her daughter in putting it, but the latter could not
define it clearer, and again asked :

" Then what, mamma? "

"Then you wish that this some one should be liappy,
that life should be one round of bliss to him, and if woo
befall him, you wish to suffer with him."

*' What else ? "

MSmSsm^^SSB^^

*i«i»»f.-ii*fa!.3***vts.^'*a'Ai

165

lot im-
Thf)
st not
e Pol-
)ke of

With
at her
oward
)lution
of lier

up on
)ne af-
iscious

uotlier,
I faint,

ow not

ig her

the ob-
uld not

happy,
. if woo

** You wish to have him at your side constantly, as you
are with me now ; you wish that he loved you, as you
love me, as I love — you."

" Now, I understand," replied Lida after some medita-
tion. I thought myself it was something like that."

" Yes, my pussy, it is so."

" You see, mamma dear, when we were still in Reichen-
liall, you remember mamma? At Thumaee I heard that Pan
Stach loved Marinya, and now I know that he is very un-
happy, though he never speaks of it."

The mother fearing to excite the invalid, asked :

" Does not this conversation weary you, my pussy ? '*

" Oh, no, no ! Now I understand. He would that she
loved him, but she loves him not. He would she was
with him, but she lives with her father, and refuses to
marry him."

" To become his wife."

*' To become his wife» He suffers, mamma. Is it not
true ? "

" Yes, my darling."

" I understand it all. And if she married him, would she
love him then ? "

" Yes, my pet — he is so good."

" Then, 1 know everything, now ! "

The child closed her eyes, and it seemed to the mother,
that her little patient-sufferer slumbered, but Lida, after R
pause, continued :

" And if he marries Marinya, will he cease to love us ? "

*' No, my Lida. He will always love us ! "

" But Marinya — most? "

" Marinya will then be nearer to him than we are. But
wliy all these questions, my dear ? "

"Are tboy bad?"

"No, not bad, but I fear these questions are exhausting
you."

" Oh, no ! I always think of liim. Mamma dear, do not
tell Marinva one word alumt it."

This ended the conversation with her mother. The
succeeding days T^ida was more silent than before, gazing
at Marinya iixedly and steadily. At times she took lier
hand, and looked into her eyes, as if wishing to say — to

166

I'l''

<!,-»

ask something. When Polanetzki was present her eyes
wandered from one to the other, and then closed. They
came every day to assist the mother in r.iring for the
patient. Panni Chavastovska was still blind to the grave
danger tliat threatened the child, for the physician himself
could scarcely foretell when the disease would end, or how
long the child would suffer. Of course he reassured the
mother, at Polanetzki's request. However, gradually,
notwithstanding the pliysician's protests, she noticed her-
self that the condition of the child was getting worse, and
the mother's heart almost died within her from alarm.

And yet she made superhuman efforts to smile and seem
in a merry mood, so as not to sadden the sensitive child. In
similar manner acted Polanetzki and Marinya. But Lida
stud "'ad them all so carefully, that the least expression of
alarm on their faces, especially on that of her mother, did
not escape her notice.

One morning, when Polanetzki, left alone with Lida,
busied himself blowing up a globe made of silk taffeta,
she turned to liim and said :

" I see, Pan Stach, that mamma is awfully alarmed at my
sickness."

Polanetzki stopped and replied :

" She does not dream of it. Who put that idea into
your head ! But then, it is very natural, that she should
be alarmed, for we all prefer to see you well and merry."

" Why are all children so healthy. I alone am always
ailing ? "

" Healthy, indeed ! Were not Bigel's children laid up
a while ago with the croup ? For several months the
house looked like a hospital. Yuzia had the measles, lue
bo}^ was awfully sick. It happens so, that children are
always ailing."

"You're only saying it to . They are sick, but

almost always get well soon."

She shook her head sadly, and added : " No, this is
sometliing quite diffei'ent. Here I am compelled to lay
in bed, because my heart is beating so — so strongly. The
other day I heard singing in the street, and I crawled up
to the window. Mamma was not home. I saw a funeral
procession, and I thought that I, too, will die soon."

,:^<,.v'>*S«w-«iA'!B-r

• eyes
They
31* the
grave
imself
31' how
3d the
iually,
3d her-
se, and
•m.

d seem
lid. In
it Lida
jsion of
ler, did

,h Lida,
taffeta,

id at my

Lea into

[. shouUl

[merry .'*

always

laid up
iths the
4les, uie
Lren are

Lck, but

this is

to lay

. The

iwled up

funeral

167

" What nonsense you do talk, Lida," exclaimed Pola-
netzki, and resumed blowing up the globe, to conceal his
agitation, and at the same time to show her liow little heed
he paid to the meaning of lier words. But the girl fol-
lowed the current of her own thoughts: " At times I feel
so bad, and my heart is beating so fast . . . mamma said,
that whenever it happens, I should pray to the Mother of
God. I always do so, because I fear to die. I know that
it is very good in Heaven, but there will be no manmia
there, and I will lie in the cemetery, alone, and at
night."

Polanetzki suddenly put aside tlie globe, sat down at the
bedside of the sick child, and taking her hands, said :
*' Lida, my darling, if you only love mamma and m3'self a
little bit, do not think of such matters. Nothing will
happen to you, and in the meantime, if mamma discovers
what torments your little mind she will grow alarmed.
Remember that thinking does you harm "

Lida crossed her hands.

" Ah, Pan Stach, I will think no longer. I only have
one request to make."

Polanetzki bent over her :

" Ask, my pussy, only say no foolish things."

" Would you pity me much ! "

" Ah, you little rogue ! "

"Tell me. Pan Stach!"

" You are a bad child, Lida I You know that I love vou,
love you ever so much ! God forbid ! — I would regret no
one's death more than yours — but you, pussy, be calm,
and lie quietly, my dear little butterfly ! "

And the girl raisea to him her clear blue eyes : '' Very
well, I will be quiet ! Good, kind Pan Stach ! "

At this moment her mother entered. Polanetzki wished
to take his leave, but Lida added: "And you are not
angry at me ? "

" No, Lida, I am not ! " replied Polanetzki.

Going out from Lida's room into the ante-chaml)er
Polanetzki heard a knock at the doer: Panni Chavas-
tovska did not wish to use the bell. He oj)ened the door
and let in Marinya, who usually came only at evening.
Greeting Polanetzki, she said ;

=-<w^(Pit.^(»9^|*j5^«tf'''->'v

168

" Well, how's Llda to-day ?

" As usual ' '

" Was the doctor here ? '*

'' He was, but told us nothing new — allow me to assist
you ? "

He wanted to take off her coat, but she declined. Pola-
netzki, still under the spell of the conversation with Lida,
suddenly and fiercely addressed her : " This was meant as
a mere courtes}^ and nothing more, and even were it of a
different character you might just as well on this thres-
hold have forgotten your dislike of ni}'^ humble self, for
there lies here a dying child, whom we both love so well.
In your refusal there is not a drop of kindness, not a bit
of tact. I would offer to assist any other lady, and I wish
you to know that at this moment I think of no one else
but Lida." He said all this with such fire that Mariiiya,
caught unawares, somewhat lost herself, and unwillingly
allowed him to take off her coat, and not only failed to find
strength enough to deem it a fresh insult heaped upon her,
but she felt that only men deeply affected by grief could
speak thus, men exceedingly kind and sensitive.

Maybe his sudden burst of spirit touched her vanity,
suffice it to say, tliat Polanetzki at that moment touched
her heart to the quick, more than at any time since their
walk through the garden of Kremen.

She raised her eyes in astonishment towards him, and
timidly uttered: "Pardon me."

Meanwhile he, too, controlled himself, and shamefully
replied :

" It is I who beg your pardon. To-day Lida spoke to
me of death and agitated me to such an extent, that I for-
got myself. You will understand this and forgive me I"
He pressed her hand and departed.

169

ssist

?ola-
L/ida,
lit as

of a
Ines-
f, for
well.

a bit

wish
e else
riiiya,
liiigly
o find
>n her,

could

anity,
uched
3 their

11, and

lefuUy

oke to
I for-
me 1"

CHAPTER XVI.

The following day Marinya offered to tj^.ke up her
residence in the house of Panni Chavastovska till the
complete recovery of Lida. The widow was at last per-
suaded to yield. She was almost exhausted from constant
attendance upon tlie child whom she did not dare to en-
trust to the care of a servant. Lida's condition demanded
incessant watching, as the crisis was liable to occur at any
moment, and it could not be expected that the most reli-
able nurse would not slumber just at the very moment
when help would be necessary to prevent the death of the
child. The presence of Marinya w\as therefore a God-
send to the broken-hearted mother. As to Plavitski,
he found more pleasure in dining in crowded restaur-
ants than at home. Marinya made daily visits to their
home to inquire about her gather's health, and attend to
their affairs. Thus Polanetzki who spent his leisure time
at the widow's house was constantly face to face with his
idol. She astonished him. The mother herself did not
show so much loving care, could not attend to the needs
and caprices of the patient as did Marinya. She became
pale and haggard during the lirst week from sleepless
nights and constant dread for the child's fate. Blue circles
formed under her eyes, but her strength and energy
seemed to grow daily, and she showed so much kindness,
patience and generosity, so much tenderness in all she did
for the child, that Lida, forgetting her former dislike of
Marinya, became softened and less capricious, and during
her absence, she waited impatiently for her return. At
last the health of the child began to improve. The physi-
cian permitted lier to arise, to walk up and down the room,
and sit in her cushioned chair, which on sunny days was
brought nearer to the door, so that she could see the street,
and the carriages and pedestrians moving thereon. At
times, the child became uneasy, and then thoughtful, at

■iil

170

»>

other times her childish nature overcame that moodiness
and she was amused by the October sun lighting up the
roofs, walls and windows ; the dresses of the women passing
by. It seemed as if these powerful elements of life, pul-
sating in the city whirl, entered the dying spirit of the
child and gave it a new lease of life. Often, peculiar
ideas flashed through her mind. Once a wagon heavy
laden with citron trees in barrels passed her window, the
barrels were chained together, but still swayed to and fro
with every motion of the wagon. Said the little girl :

" Their hearts do not beat."

Then she looked at Polanetzki and asked :

*' How long do they live ? "

" Some exist a thousand years.'

** I wish I were one of those trees, mamma, what big tree
do you like best."

" A birch."

I would like to be a little birch, and you a big one, we
would grow together, side by side. And Pan Stach would
he like to be a birch ? "

" If he only could grow near the little one ! "

Lida gazed at him sadly, shook her head and said: " Oh,
no ! Now I know everything ! I know at whose side you
would like to grow I "

Marin y a blushed in confusion, lowering her eyes to her
work. Polanetzki began to pat Lida's head, repeating:
"Ah, my dear little kitten, — my sweet darling !"

Lida was silent. Then from under her long and silky
eyelashes two big tears rolled down her thin pale face.
She raised her face beaming with heavenly joy, and
quietly added : " I dearly love mamma, and Pan Stach, and
Marinya. 1 love everybody.'*

171

CHAPTER XVII.

Professor Vaskovski made daily inquiries about
Lida's health, and though he did not call, he always sent
her flowers. Polanetzki, meeting him once at dinner
thanked him in the name of Panni Chavastovksa.

** How does she feel to-day? " asked Vaskovski.

Tolerably well to-day, but generally bad, worse than at
Reichenhall. Our fears increase with every passing and
coming day.

*'And when do you think that this child will be no
longer ? "

Polanetzki broke down ; the words s emed to choke him,
and wishing to overcome his grief, he began to cui-se fate :
" What's the use thinking, hoping for mercy. Sober logic
tells us, that people with diseased hearts are doomed to
death ! The devil take such life ! "

At this moment Bukatzki entered the restaurant. Learn-
ing the subject of their conversation, and loving Lida, lie,
too, fell upon Vaskovski, indignant at the very thouglit
that death was hovering around her.

*' How can one willingly deceive himself during so many
long years, and speak of mercy which crumbles into dust
in the presence of blind destiny."

To which the old man meekly responded : *' How can
you, my dear lads, measure with your own yardstick the
mercy and wisdom of God ! Whoever entering a cellar,
though he may be surrounded by darkness, yet he cannot
say that above him tliere is no sky, no sun that shines so
bright and warm ! "

"There is consolation for you!'* exclaimed Polanetzki.
"From such philosophy flies lie low and perish. And
what will become of the mother, whose only child is
dying ? "

But the blue eyes of the professor seemed to dwell on

€:^

i' iim* *>.iim^'^iy'

172

another world. He looked fixedly into the distance, after
which he spoke like a man who has seen something, but
has his doubts about the clearness of liis vision : " I think
that tliis child is too much attached to life and humanity,
and cannot pass away or vanish leaving no trace. Tliere
is something in lier, she is destined to accomplish some-
thing, anc -^he " U not die before she fulfils her mission.

"Mystic r- muttered Bukatzki.

"If it wf -f !,v so !" interrupted Polanetzki. "Mys-
ticism or noi., if il were only true! A man in danger
grasps at the sliadow of a dim hope. I never believed it
that she could die."

'* Who knows," added Vaskovski, " she may outlive us
all."

Polanetzki was in a phase of skepticism, when a man
recognizes nothing, believes in nothing, and only deems
possible that which liis lieart at a given moment most
ardently desires. He heaved a deep sigh. He felt some-
what relieved.

" God grant mercy to this poor woman ! I would pay
for a hundred masses if 1 knew it could do her good."

" Pay for one, but let your intention be sincere."

" I will, I will ! And as regards sincerity, I could not
be more so if my own life were at stake."

Vaskovski smiled ironically.

" You are on a good path," said he, " because you know
how to love ! "

They all felt easier at heart. Maybe Bukatzki held
different opinions to those of Vaskovski, but he was loth
to discuss them, for skepticism pulls its cap over its ears
in the presence of people seeking salvation in faith in
time of sorrow. Skepticism in such cases cows down,
and seems to its own self small and insignificant. Bigel,
who appeared on the scene, at sight of their almost gay
countenances, said : " I read on your faces that the child
is not worse."

" No, no ! " replied Polanetzki, " But the professor has
said things that have dispelled our clouds and soothed our
wounds."

" Thank God ! My wife to-day paid for a mass, after
which she went to Pauni Chavastovska. I am free.

173

accordingly, and as Lida is feeling better, I will teU you
an amusing piece of news."

"What is it?"

"I met Mashko a while ago. He is coming herv. soon,
and you can congratulate him personally. He is going 1.)
get married."

"Who is she?" asked Polanetzki.

" My neighbor."

" Panna Kraslavzki ? "

'' Yes."

" I understand ! " remarked V ikatzki. " He crushed
those ladies with his solemn m fnificence,' his noble
descent, his wealth, and from he agments created for
himself a wife and a mother-^" la v."

" Tell me, pray, one thing," ya^ ; A^askovski : " Is Mashko
a religious man ? "

" As a conservator — for gi>^d form's sake."

"And those ladies?"

" As a matter of habit."

"Why do they never think of their future life?

" Mashko ! Why don't you think of your future life ? "
asked Bukatzki of the entering lawyer.

Mashko approached theiu and asked ;
•"What did you say?"

"I said: Mashko, ttifelix^ nuhe!^'

Mashko then received the congratulations of his fiiends
with befitting dignity, and said:

" I thank you, dear friends, from the depths of my
heart, I thank you ; and as you all know my intended wife
I doubt not the sincerity of your congratulations !"

" Don't you dare to doubt it ! " interru[)ted Bukatzki.

''Kremen came handy, just in time, did it not," inter-
ru})ted Polanetzki.

Kremen, indeed, was of great service, for witliout it his
suit would have been rejected. Rut on tliis account the
remark was unpleasant to Mashko, who frowning said:

" You helped me to come into [)ossession of it, and I
sometimes am grateful to you for it, and sometimes curse
you."

"But why?"

** Beg^use your uuclo Plwitz.ki i."5 tho greatest bore on

174

God's earth, not mentioning your cousin, who is very
charming, but from dawn till dusk puts Kremen tliiough
all modifications according to the best rules of granmiar,
and irrigates the whole with ample tears. You are a rare
visitor there, but believe me, it is very annoying."

Polanetzki looked at him, and said :

" Listen, Mashko ! I handled my uncle without gloves,
it is true, but this does not mean that I ought to listen to
unsavory remarks from a man, who found in liim a good
paying proposition. I know furthermore, that Marinya
exceedingly regrets the loss of Kremen, but this only
proves that she is not a heartless doll, but a woman with
feelings, — you understand me ! '*

Silence ensued. Mashko knew very well what Polan-
etzki was hinting at, when speaking of a heartless doll.
The spots on his face grew a deeper red, and his lips
twitched and trembled. But he controlled himself. He
was not a coward, by any means, but the most courageous
man often has an opponent whom he does not care to chal-
lenge. Such was Polanetzki for Mashko. He shrugged
his shoulders and asked:

" Why this rage? If this is unpleasant to you '*

Polanetzki interrupted him.

" I am not angry. I only advise you to remember my
words."

** Very Avell," replied Mashko. " I will remember your
words, but I will also advise you never to allow yourself
to speak to me in such manner again, or I will remember
this, and some day demand an account."

*' But what are 3^ou two about ?" exclaimed Bukatzki, —
** wliy do you quarrel ? "

But Polanetzki, in whom rage against Mashko had been
boiling for a long time would certainly have continued
matters further, but for the sudden appearance of Panni
Chavastovska's servant, who rushed in panting.

" Pan Polanetzki," cried he, out of breath. *' Lida is
dying."

Polanetzki grew pale, and finding his hat rushed toward
the door. Again silence reigned, which was finally broken
by Mashko.

" I had forgotten," said he, ** he must be forgiven now."

175

Vaskovski, covering his eyes with his hands, be^an to
pray, then muttered : ^

" God alone can save her ! "

A quarter of an hour later Bigel received a note from
Ins partner containing the following;

" The crisis has passed."

* ■ V

^^w

3 J

~^»>m>^.iam^-

17G

CHAPTER XVIII.

PoLANETZKi fpirly flew to Panni Chavastovska's house,
fearing that he might be too Lite. Tlie servant informed
him on the way that he left Lida in convulsions, almost
dying. On entering the house he way met by the wido\f
herself, who shouted to him : " Better, better ! "

'* The physician is here ? " asked Polanetzki.

u Here."

« And the child ? '»

"Asleep."

The face of the mother still betrayed the struggle of
fright with hope and joy. Polanetzki noticed that her
lips were pale and bloodless, her eyes red and her face
spotted. She looked worn out, for she had had no sleep
for twenty-four liours. Tlie physician, a young energetic
man, thought that the danger was passed. Panni Chavas-
tovska was put perfectly at ease when the doctor, in the
presence of Polanetzki, declared the crisis passed. " We
must not allow another one to come, and it will not I '*
Evidently tlie doctor deemed it still possible to prevent
the recurring of the attack, but at the same time this was
a warning that the next crisis would also be the last,
biinging agony and death. Panni Chavastovska caught
at every thread of hope, however thin, as a man falling
down a precipice catches hold of slippery plants growing
over its sides. " We'll not let it come ! We'll not let it
come ! " slie repeated feverishly, pressing the doctor's
hand. Polanetzki cast a side-glance at the doctor, wish-
ing to learn whether his words were pronounced to allay
the mother's fears, or merely based on his medical experi-
ence. Then he asked : " You will remain with her to-
night?"

" I fail to see the necessity," he replied. " The child is
exhausted, and will certainly sleep long. You must also

177

rest awhile, the clanger is past. Tlie patient must see only
smiling faces when she awaktMis."

**ril not fall asleep," said tlie mother.

The doctor raised hispale-hlue eyes, looked at lier stead-
fastly, and as if with an effort, he Jowly said:

'" In an hour you will go to bed. You will sleep unin-
icrruptedly six — eight hours. We'll say — eight; and to-
morrow you'll aiise fresh and perfectly calm ; and now I'll
bid you good-night."

*' And how about the drops if the child awakes? "

" The drops will be administered by somebody else.
You must and shall sleep. Good-night."

The doctor took his leave. Polanetzki intended to fol-
low him and inquire about Lida, ))ut fearing that a long
conversation with the physician might alarm the widow,
he resolved to call upon him the following day at his resi-
dence, and there obtain all the desii'able information.

Having remained with Panni Chavastovska, lie said:

" Do as the physician advised and retire. As to Lida
I'll keep watch and not leave her bedside through the
night."

But all the thoughts of the poor mother hovered around
the sick girl, and, instead of replying directly, she said:

" You know that after the previous crisis she fell asleep.
She has asked for you several times. She has also in-
quired about Marinya, but fell asleep with the question:
" Where is Pan Stach ? "

" My poor girl ! I would have come myself after
dinner — I ran as fast as I could. When did the crisis
begin ? "

" About noon ; but since morning she was sad, as if she
had a presentiment. Don't you know, in my presence she
always claims to be healthy ; but this l^ime she evidently
did not feel well at all. Before the attack she sat down at
my side and begged me to hold her liantl. Yesterday — •
I had forgotten to tell you — sli« asked nse very strange
questions: 'Is it true that a sick child is always granted
the favor it asks?' I rei)lied : 'It's true if tlie request
can be fultilled.' Probably some thought was tcunenting
her little head, for in the evening, when Marinya came,
she repeated the question in her presence and then went

-.- ... ■4lim^^^mme■,l/stmmJ|*tf»fl

178

to sleep in a merry mood. Only in tlie morning she com-
phiined tliat something was choking her. Fortunately I
had sent in time for the physician ; he arrived just before
the crisis."

" l>ut it's still more fortunate that he loft with the con-
viction that the paroxysms will not recur again. I am
persuaded that his conclusion is right."

Panni Chavastovska reverently raised her eyes and
Baid :

" God is merciful ! He will spare me ! " and, notwith-
standing all her efforts to remain firm, she burst into tears.
The long-suppressed grief and despair gave way to joy
and found an outlet in tears. In tliis noble inspired nature
the calm reason was always affected by an inborn exalta-
tion, wliicli prevented her realizing the real state of affairs.
Thus she did not in the least doubt that Lida*s disease
had come to an end with tliis last paroxysm, andthat fiom
now on the child's life would not be darkened by ill health.

But Pohmetzki would, not and probably could not stop
between despair and grief. His heart was filled with
his passion for lier, and ho felt how profoundly attached
he liad become to this exalted and ideal woman. If
she had been his sister he would embrace and press her to
his heart, but as it was, lie contented himself with an af-
fectionate pressure of her hand and said :

"Thanli God! Thank God! Now you will go to
sleep, and I'll be with Lida and shall not stir till she
awakes."

Lida's room was dark, as the shutters were closed and
the sun was setting ; only a few purple rays penetrated
through the narrow openings, soon to vanish altogether as
the sky became darkened. Lida was fast asleep. Polan-
etzki sat down by tlie bed and gazed stendily at her face.
His heart ached. Lida was lying upon her back, her face
turned to the ceiling ; her thin hands resting on the
blanket, her eyes tightly shut. Her paleness, which seemed
almost waxiMi in the reddish semi-daikness of the room,
tlie haU'-o[)ened lips and the deep sleep, gave to her ema-
ciated little face a traiKjuil ap[)earance which death alone
imparts. There was not the slightest rustling of the lace
vith ^vhich her night-robe was tr: aimed, nor twitching of

179

the body, however slight, to prove that the child was
alive and breathing. For a long time Polanetzki gazed
at the sickly face, and once more tlie feeling, frequently
experienced by him wlien thinking about himself, asserted
itself: tliat he was created to be a father, that, togetlier
with a cliosen woman, children could constitute the ideal
of his life, the chief aim and reason of existence. He
understood all this, thanks to his compassion and love for
Lida, who, although only a friend to him, was at this mo-
ment as dear as his own child.

"If she were given to me," he thought, "or if she were
deprived of lier mother, I would adopt her and then I would
have something to live for."

He also thought that if he could form a covenant with
death, he would unfaltei'ingly offer himself up in order to
save this child, over whose head grim death was hovering,
as a ravenous bird over a helpless dove. Yes, this man
could now kiss the liands and the head of the poor child
with more passion than the average woman could mani-
fest.

In the meantime it became dark, and soon after Panni
Chavastovska appeared holding a little lamp with a pink
shade and o1)scuring tlie light with her hand.

"Asleep?" slie asked in a whisper, putting down the
lamp on a small table which stood behind the head of the
bed.

" Yes," answered Polanetzki in a whisper.

The mother looked at tli(; sleeping girl.

*' Do you see," Polanetzki rejoined, " how I'egular and
calm her breathing is. To-morrow she'll be v/ell."

" I h()[)e so."

"Now the m()ther*'s turn to sleep has come. It's time
ali(!ady, or, really, I'll quarrel with you."

The young widow smiled gratefully. In the i)leasant
bluish light of the night-liimp sIk! ap])eai('d angelic, so
much so that Polanetzki involuntarily thought that slio
and Lida were really two celestial beings who were acci-
dentally lost in this world.

" Yes," she said, ** now I will rest. iNIarinyaPlavitzka
and Professf • Vaskuvski carae, and Marinya absolutely in-
sists on remaining."

■ ■ V]

180

**So much the better. She is a skilful and patiend
nurse. Good-iii<^ht."

" Good-iiiglit."

Polanetzki was again alone, and Marinya now became
the object of his thoughts, At the first inkling that she
woukl be in the room in a minute he could think of
nothing else. He asked liimself why it was he did not
fall in love with Panni Ciiavostovska, undeniablv more
beautiful than Marinya, more pleasant, more lovable.
Why should he love that girl, who, in his estimtition,
stood inferior to the gentle Chavastovska, and whom he
also knew less? The approach of Marinya [)rocluL'ed in
him all those ardent impulses that a man feels at the sight
of his chosen one, while Panni Chavastovska impressed
him in the same manner in which a beautiful painting or
sculpture does. Why is it that the more cultured the
man, the more sensitive his nerves, the more refmed, the
more impressionable he is, the stronger ap{)ears to him the
contrast in womankind. But Polanetzki could not iind a
better answer than the one givcni to him l)y the ])hysician,
who fell in love with Kraslovski. ''My reasoning about
lier is rational, but I can't pluck lier from my licart."
Ccrtaiidy this was no solution of the enignia. It simply
reatlirmed its existence, bnt lie could [)onder no longer
over it, as Maiinya now came in tlie room.

TJjcy silently nodded to eaeh other. He took a rocking-
cliair and noiselessly moved it to the bed, inviting her to
be seated. She whispered:

" Go and have your tea. Professor Vaskovski is waiting
there."

*' And Panni Chavastovska?"

" Slie was unable to sit up and slio wondered lierself at
tlie cause, bnt she went away nevertheless."

'* I know the cause. The physician liad hypnotized her,
and he did well. Lida, you know, is better."

Maiinya looked at him and he repeated:

*' Really, bettm-, if the ])aroxysm does not occur again,
and there is hojui that it will not."

'''I'hank (iod! lint go and have your tea,"

But he pr(d'crred whispering:

*'A11 right, all ri^ht, iu a lilllo while. \Vo must a^

181

'1 f at
her.

,t ar-

range about you taking a lest. I Iieaid that your futlier
was sick, so you must bu tired."

^' He has recovered, and I want to relieve Eniilya. She
tohl me that the servants did not have a wink of sleep
the whole night, for the child was so uneasy and restless.
We must arrange so that some one will be in constant
attendance on the sick."

" Well ; but to-night FU remain ; if not in here, I'll sio
in the other room and there wait for my turn. When did
you learn of the crisis?"

" I was ignorant of it until this evening, wlien I came,
as usual, to hear how she was."

"The valet came running to me during dinner. You
can imagine how fast 1 ran, fearing that 1 would not iind
iier alive. I have a good piece of news for you. While
conversing at dinner witli liukalzki and Vasxovski about
Tida, Miishko suddenly appeared and infoiined ns that he
was going to marry."

'^ Mashko ! "

" Yes, it is not generally known ; but he formally declared
it to us. He is going to marry Panna Kraslovska, you
niinember lier, tlie one that was at the Bigels'. It is a
good matcli for Mashko."

There was a pauses Marinya often reproached lK'rs<;lf
for having rejected Ab'ishko. She thouglither refusal had
caused hiiri to suffer greatly, and now, having heard of his
coming marriage, she felt cheered. Ibit the news took
her unawares, snr[)rised her, and somewhat stung licr.
Women of a con'[)assi()nate natuie, rccjuiie first of all that
the object should really suffer, and tlien they themselves
want to be the benefactors in relieving the suffering;
when the same end is aehiev(Ml through somebody else,
tliey are greatly disappointed. Marinya's vanity was
piovoked in ii twofold manner. She did not expect that
Mashko would foiget her so easily, imd slu; had to confess
that there was no foundation for her estimation of liim as
an exc:eptional man. Slie felt sonunvliat humiliated. She
told, neverth<;K\ss, the truth to IN.hinetzki when she de-
clared that she s^/.7erely reioieed at the news, altliou'jh in
reality she was ;iispleased with liim for having conimu-
uicated it to hci,

182

Polanetzki for some time p;isl had been ratlier reserved
witli Mariiiya, and liad not in the slightest degree man-
ifested liis feelings. Hat lie was not excessively frigid either.
Tlianks to their being tlirown together freqnently, he pre-
served a kind of friendly freedom in his actions, and this
led her to believe that he liad ceased to love her. Such is
human nature. Although lier disap[)ointment with him
increased and was a continual source of poignancy, the
thought that he was indifferent vexed her. And now it
seemed that Polanetzki felt elated over her error concern-
ing Mashko and the a[)parent desertion of lier former ad-
mirer. \U\t this was not Polanetzki's state of mind. It
is true lie was pleased that Marinya was undoubtedly
mistaken in her opinion of Maslda), but the idea of her
loneliness never crossed his mind, and, in avj case, he was
ready, now perhaps more tlian ever, to open his arms and
press her in an affectionate embrace. Yet he worked
liard and perseveringly, endeavoring to sui)press, or at
least curb, his feelings, only hecause lie deemed it below
man's dignity to put all the impulses of one's soul and
heart into a love th;it was not e\on reciprocated. He
would not "give in " to use his own exiuession, but he
also understood tiiat ^ truggle of this kind wearies and
exliausts, an(' that vicio y, even if achieved, biings not
joy, but a sense of emptiness. And, besides, he was still
very far from vi(^tory. After many efforts he arrived at a
condition wlieie liis feelings were mixed with bitterness,
and tliis ferment decomposes love by simply poisoning it;
in tlie conrseof time this result wouhl perhaps be wrought
in l%)laiH;tzki. But now, looking at Marinya sitting near
liim in tlie dim light of the niglit-lamj) lie was thinking:
*'0h, if she only wished it! " This thought enraged him,
but to be frank with himself he had to confess, that, if she
only wished it, he would be at her feet in a moment. An-
other consideration cre[)t into his mind. Even if Marinya,
li(Mlio\igh*, sluMild want to live over again the days passed
in kUvnuMi, their misuiidei'slandlng had so entangled them,
th;it her self-respect Miid anxiety not to [)rove untrue to
jiei'self, would (3lose her lips.

After a brief conversation, silence ensued, interi'UjUed
only by the breathing of the sick child and the monot-

183

onous sound produced ])y the rain beating on the win-
dows. It was a wet autumn night, so conducive to de-
jection, sadness, and discontent. Just as dreary appeared
the room, in the sombre corners of which death was
liovering. Hour after hour passed, and suddenly sad
presentiments possessed Pohmetzki. He cast a ghmce at
Lida, and it seemed to him absurd to hope tliat slie
would live. Vain delusion, vain hopes ! In vain the
vigil I She must die, and the more so because she was
so much loved. Yes, and then her motlier, and after
their death, for hijn, a hopeless killing void ! What a
life? Sliould he lose the only two beings who loved
and cared for him ! Will fate deprive him of all hope.
With them fortune might yet smile upon his life, and
without them — wretchedness, a blind, deaf, mad future I

Even the most energetic man must needs be 'oved, or
he feels, in theprescjnce of death, that his energy is turned
against life. This moment had arrived lor I'olanet'^.ki.

"And in fact I don't see," he thougl'l. " wl»y I ^tiould
not send a bullet through my brain; certainly not from
despair of losing these dear friends, but because uf the
emptiness of life without them. If life must: amain dull,
there is no reason in permitting oneself tv ^lovv stupid — -
save out of curiosity — to see what one can ci^r-ie to."

Of course, this thought cm ^ed his niinii not to be
realized, but simply to tormen the sorely tried man in a
moment of anger, wliich souglil to vent itself upon some
object. It turned suddenly on Marinya. All at once it
ap[)eared to liim, and he liimscjlf did not know wliy, that
all the evil which had com imong them was due to her
influence, that she liad brought witliin their circle discon-
tent and sadness unknown there before, as if she liad cast a
stone upon the smooth surfiice of tlie waters of their life,
and now the waves having expanded into gigantic circling
biHows, grasped not only him but Panni Ohavastovska
and her daughter. As a man ;ntrolled by his reason and
not by his nerves, he comprehended tlie a])surdity of these
thonghts, but he could not tear from himself tlie remem-
brance that until the arrival of Maiinya in Warsaw all
was pleasant, so pleasant indeed that he considered those
days the happiest of his life. He then loved Lida with

,-/a.«iii, «*«•■■

184

a father's love that did not mar a single moment, and
who knows, perliaps, in tlie conise of time he would also
have loved lier mother. It's true she did not entertain
fur him any otlier feeling save that of friendship, but this
was perhaps because he did not require any otlier. Often
a n()})le-minded woman will check the development of an
incipient feeling, that is outside the bounds of mere friend-
ship, fearing lest it should perplex or disturb the one that
could but would not be a dear one. Naturally, there is
hidden grief at the bottom of the heart of such an one, but
still she is contented with that kind of tenderness that
friendship will permit.

Polanetzki, having formed Marinya's acquaintance, gave
to her at once tlie best part of his love. What was the
consequence ? Heartache ; and now, to fill the cup of
bitterness, Lida — the only bright ray in his clouded life
— is dying. Polanetzki looked again at her.

" Would not you at least remain, my dear ! " he thought.
" You do not know how much your mother and I are in
need of you ! Lord knows what a life ours will be with-
out thee, dear creature I " Suddenly he observed that
tlie girl's eyes were upon him. Thinking it an illusion
he did not stir, but the child began to smile and said at
lasi; :

"Is it you. Pan Stach?"

" Yes, it's I, dear Lida. Well, how do we feel ? '*

" Well 1 And where is mamma ? "

" She'll soon be here. We had quite a struggle with
hcv r>vbout going to bed, and it was with difficulty that we
|>prs';ipded lier to do so."

I idi. .jrned her head.

'- Ah, and Aunt Marinya is here ?" she rejoined, noticing
her.

Sometimes Lida called Marinya aunt.

J*daiinya roso, took a vial from the cupboard and poured
several drops of nvnlicine into a spoon. She took it then
to tlie girl, a!id witli a kiss on her forehead requested her
to swallow it.

It was very quiet in the room ; at last, Lida, as if speak,
ing to herself said:

•" V^o will not need nuunma."

185

" No, we will not disturb her. Everything v/ill be just
as Lida wishes it."

He then began to pat her hand which was resting on
the covers. She was looking at him and, childlike, was
repeating :

" Oil, Pan Stach, Pan Stach ! "

In a minute it seemed that the girl was falling asleep,
but she apparently was thinking of something serious, for
her eyebrows were raised as if in an effort to concentrate
all her mental strength. Finally she opened her eyes and
began to gaze now at Marinj-a, now at Polaiiotzki.

In the room only the noise of the rain beating on the
windows was heard.

" What is the matter with you, my child ? " asked
Marinya.

The girl, putting together her little hands, almost in-
audibly said :

" Aunt Marinya ! . . . I have a great favor lo ask of
you, but I dare not."

Marinya bent her gentle face.

" Tell me, my dear I Til do anything you wish me
to."

The girl grasped her hand, pressed it to her lips and
exclaimed :

" That aunt should love Pan Stach."

Tn the silence that ensued only the rapid breathing of
the sick child was distinctly heard.

'• All right, my dear ! " Marinya at last stammered.

There was a choking sensation in Polanetzki's throat, lie
almost burst into tears. Everything, not excepting Ma-
rinya, disappeared from his vision in the presence of that
cliild, who, on the brink of death, was thinking only of
Iiini.

*' And that aunt should marry him . . ." rejoined Lida.

Marinya grew pale, her lips trembled, but she replied
unfalteringly :

" Very well Lida, T will."

The child again kissed Marinya's liand, and then her
little head sank in the })illow. She lay there for some
time with closed eyes, a lew pearly tears soon appearing
and slowly rolling down her face.

18B

A still longer pause ensued. The monotonous beating
of the rain on tlie window-pcines continued. Polanetzki
and Marinya sat motionless. They felt that suddenly a
great change had been wrought in their lives, but they
seemed stumied by wliat had occurred, and were lost in a
chaos of thoughts and emotions.

Tiiey botli avoided even an occasional glance, and hour
after hour passed in silence. Tlie clock struck twelve,
then — one ; about two o'clock Pauni Chavastovska slipped
like a shadow into the room.

" Asleep ? " she inquired.

" No, dear mamma," returned Lida.

" How do you feel, my child ? "

" Very well, mother."

She sat down by the bed. The girl clasped her neck,
and fondly pressing the little head to that dear bosom,
exclaimed :

*' Now, mamma dear, I know that a sick: child's request
is always granted ?"

She silently pressed closer and closer to the mother and
then slowly uttered :

" Now, Pan Stach will not be unhappy any more, and
I'll tell you why ..."

Suddenly her head began to grow heavy, and the poor
mother felt a cold perspiration on the hands and temples
of the girl.

" Lida ! " she exclaimed in a frightened but low voice.

" It's strange, I became weak all at once ". . . returned
the child.

Apparently her thoughts began to wander, for after a
'short pause, she continued :

" O, what a big sea ! veiy big . . . We are all sailing
on it. . . Mamma, manuna ! . . ."

And again the awful paroxysms. The body stretched
convulsively and the eyes rolled back. Now, the nature
of the ciisis was mercilessly clear : death came. It was
felt in the pale light of the lamp, in the somber corners of
the room, in the drizzling rain on the window-panes, and
in the how^'iig wind full of despair.

PolanetZivi, ran for the physician. They returned to-
gether iua quarter of an hour, and stopped at the closed

18-

door, not sure tluit the cliild still lived. They soon entered,
Polanetzki followed by the physician who was repeatedly
nuiiniuring :

" It must be friglit or a violent agitation."
The servants with their sleepy and frightened faces
were crowded around the door listening. In the house a
long, dismal, dreary silence reigned. It was broken by
Marinya who, pale and haggard, came in from the sick-
room.

" Some water for the Panni," she exclaimed in a trem-
bling voice — '* the Tanua is dead I "

i*t

il si

h
t * .ft

188

XIX.

Autumn was still smiling through its declining days,
although sadly, not unlike a woman dying of a slow
disease. Just such weather, — serene, but mournful, they
had on tlie day of the funeral, rolanetzki, occupied with
the preparations for tlie last niehuichol}- duty felt relieved
when he thought that Lida would liave liked such weather.
He could not yet fathom the (lei)th of his grief. This
consciousness comes later, when the beloved one has been
placed in the grave, and one returns alone to the deserted
house. Besides, the arrangements for the funeial filled
all his time and left little leisuie for ])ainful recollections.

And Panni Chavastovska ! All the springs by which
man moves and thinks were shattered in her: the violent
gust proved too much for the fleece of the weakly lamb.
Fortunately, very severe pain kills itself by striking the
victim senseless. 'JMie shoek stunned Panni C'havastovska,
and she could hardly lealize its horror. Theie was a look
of terror, as if congealed in her face, but no tears, no
words. Now, and then a suggestion tiagically childish and
trivial — proved that her thoughts did not comprehend the
awful misfortune, but hovered around the accompanying
details, clinging to them and surrounding them with as
much care as if the child were alive. She was constantly
aiound Lida, reposing amidst the floweis on the satin
pillow, anxiously ins[)ecting every trifle. When led away
slie did not resist but would render a heart-breaking gioan,
as if a mortal blow liad been inflicted ui»on her.

But the time for closing the colKin arrived. Polanetzki
and Pan Chavastovska, her husband's brother, who ariived
on the veiy eve of the funeral, made an effort to lead her
out of the room. She called the dead child by her name,
and their courage failed them. . . At last, the mournful
procu.'jsiuii moved amid torches, cariiagcs and the clergy

((

189

chanting a doleful psalm. A curious unpleasant crowd
surrounded the coffin.

In olden times people flocked to amphitheaters to feast
their eyes on liuman gore, now tliey glut them with hu-
man grief. Panni Chavastovska, supported by her lius-
band's brother and Marinya walked behind the coffin.
IJer face was dry and expressionless. All her thoughts
were bent on one trifle. It happened that a curl of Lida's
thick blonde liair was caught between tlie lid and coffin,
and the mollier's gaze, was riveted on it. All the way
througli slie murmured :

" O, God, God ! they press my child's hair ! "

Polanetzki's grief, fatigue, nervousness — all turned
into one feeling, a sen^3e of extreme heaviness and oppres-
sion. It was almost unbearable, and lie was often seized
with a stroncf desire to return home, throw himself on the
lounge, stifle nil thought, feeling, love, wish — complete
forgetfulness. This selfish impulse surprised and agitated
him. He knew he would not return, but would drain tlie
cup of bitterness to the last dreg. Now he felt that all his
feelings had shriveled up, faded away, and that there was
an absolute void in his heart. Finally, his thoughts were
plunged into a complete chaos of outside impressions,
sorrow, despair and inward observations. Now the color
of the houses attracted his attention, then a sign which he
read, not knowing why, or he would wonder when the
clergymen would cease chanting, then again he would fear
lest they should resume their doleful psalms. Suddenly
the face of the dear child would emerge from that chaos,
and a flood of i-ecoUections rushed on him. Now he saw
her in Keichenhall when he carried her in his arms from
Thumsee;then in the country-house of the Bigel's ; at
home, when she wished to be a birch ; and finally on her
deathbed when she asked Marinya to marry him. He did
not consciously presume that the child was in love with
liim as a grown-up woman ; in fact lier unconscious feel-
ings could not be so understood — but he felt that she
sacrificed herself. It followed from her deep attachment
for him.

*' This was the only heart that cherished me ! And now
I have nobody in this world ! . . " he said to himself.

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And raising his e3'es to that blonde curl fluttering in
the wind he inwardly called Lida by all those lender
names and endearments which he used in conversing with
lier. Me felt the tears choking him when his appeals re-
mained unheeded. In fact, there is something heart-
rending in that silence and indifference of the dead. Be-
sides the pain of sustained loss there is a sense of an aw-
ful deception, an offense inflicted by this dead body that
lemains deaf to all our entreaties and prayers. A similar
feeling arose in Polanetzki's breast. Lida had left him
for the land of death. Instead of a free, familiar, and
trusting creature, she had become reserved and solemn,
indifferent to the sufferings of a mother and the loneliness
of a loving friend. There was certainly an element of
egoism in these feelings ; but for the sense of one's own
loss, men, especially believers in a future life, would not
pity the dead.

At last the mournful chaiiot emerged from the town into
the open fields, and soon reached the gate of the cemetery.
Wreaths and garlands of immortelles and lirs intended for
the grave were hung on the wall. The men with the
torches, the clergymen in their white sacerdotal vestments,
and the chariot, stopped at the gate. Polanetzki, Bukatzki,
Bigel and Vaskovski carried the coffin to the sepulchre
of Lida's father. They put it down near the open gi-ave.
A heart-rending " Requiem seternam " and then — '* Anima
ejus " resounded.

Polanetzki ran through the chaos of his thoughts and
impressions, as if in a dream ; Lida's cofTni, the stony face
and glassy eyes of Panni Vaskavski, Marinya's tears
and Bukatzki's pale face. The coffin was lowered into
the grave, and an engraved stone placed on the oj)ening.
Something choked him and he remained in a trance. He
was brought to himself by a violent gust of the wind, and
he saw at the grave Panni Chavastovska, Marinya, Bigel's
wife, Vaskovski and Lida*s uncle. The strangers had
gradually departed. He was now thinking of death. It
seemed to him that he and those standing at the grave
were rushing over a yawning precipice. No thought of a
life beyond the tomb entered his mind.

Meanwhile the early autumn evening advanced. The

191

face

tears

I into

, and

igeVs

had

1. It

The

old professor and Chavastovska led the sad woman to the
gate. Polaiietzki took liis final leave of tlie dear child and
left. Crossing the gateway he thought:

"It is fortunate that the mother is void of feeling, other-
wise what a dreadful thought, — the child left alone in the
cemetery ! . . Well, if the dead leave us, the living leave
them."

From afar he perceived a carriage, driving away with
Panni Chavastovska. The order of things seemed to him
outrageous.

He also entered a cab, with the selfish thought, that now,
at last, at the end of a tormenting act, a period of rest will
follow. But on his return home the room appeared empty,
mournful, hopeless. However, when after tea he threw
himself on the sofa and stretched his legs, he was again
possessed with that sense of animal pleasure at the pros-
pect of a good rest after the hard ordeal. And here the
opinion of a great thinker recurred to him : " I do not
know villains, I only know honest men, but even they are
loathsome." And Polanetzki at this moment appeared to
himself loathsome.

In the evening he bethought himself of the widow.
Marinya had taken her to her house for a few weeks.
Before leaving lie approached the table and kissed Lida's
portrait. In a quarter of an hour he rang the bell at
Plavitski's.

A valet that opened the door told him that Pan was
out, but beside Marinya there was inside Vaskovski
and the priest Chilyak. Marinya met hiir in the
parlor, uncombed, with red eyes, almost friglitful. Her
formerly reserved manner had changed, as if tlnough the
misfortune of others she had forgotten her own afllic-
tions.

" Emilya is with me," she whispered. *' She is very bad,
but I think she understands when spoken to. Vaskovski is
there. . . He talks so eainestly to her. . . Must you
see her?"

" No ; I only came to inquire how she feels. I'll leave
at once."

** No, she might want to see you. . . Rest yourself
here. I'll go to her and mention at a favorable moment

a'"

I. I

102

;i '

,1'' ■

that you are here. Lida was very fond of you, and Emilya
might, therefore, be pleased to see you now."

'"' Very well," returned Polanetzki.

Marinya went into the adjoining room. Through the
half-opened door he could hear Vaskovski utter words
of consolation.

..." It is the same as if she had gone into another
room for a toy. Certainly, she'll not return, but you will
go to her. . . You must lake another point of view. . .
The ciiild is alive and hap[)y. Being ir* the region of
eternity slie considers the parting of very short duration.
Lida is alive — " he emphasized — " and happy. She sees
you going to meet her, and she stretches her little hands.
She knows that you will come to her, for God giveth life
and death in the twinkling of the eye, and then eternity to-
gether with Lida. Just think of it — together with
Lida. . . eternal tranquillity and joy. . . The world will
perish, but you will live."

" It would be >;ood if it were true," Polanetzki thought.
" And if I felt that way, there would be no need for me
to go to that room."

And not waiting for Marinya's return he entered the
room. Great suffering precludes help or consolation.
Polanetzki understood this, and he was ashamed of draw-
ing back before the mother's grief. On entering the room
he perceived Pauni Chavasto vska lying on the sofa. There
was a palm near by that spread its broad leaves over the
sufferer's head. Vaskovski sat there, holding her hand and
looking steadily into her eyes. Polanetzki approached.
He withdrew the hands of the priest and bending down to
hers kissed them.

Panni Chavastovska siglied as if making an effort to
awake from her slumber, and then suddenly exclaimed :

** And do you remember, how she "

Here she burst into tears, her hands compressed, her lips
convulsed, and her breast violently agitated with hysterical
sobbing. At last she fainted away, and when restored to
consciousness, she was led by Marinya into her room.
Polanetzki and Vaskovski went lo the parlor and met
there Plavitski who had returned a minute j)revious.

*' This sad lady in my house affects my life dreadfully.

103

I need more quietude and freedom, but what cjinbedone?
I must witlidiaw to the buckgrouml."

In half an hour iMarinyacanu; to say that Panni Chavas-
tovska after considcrablt; entreaty had consented to go to
sleep, and that slie was a little calmer. Polanetzki and
Vaskovski took tlieir leave.

Going in the dense fog tliat overhung the streets after
the sunny day, both thought of Lida, wlio was passing
tliat night far from her mother in the habitation of tlio
dead. This aj)])eared dreadful, not, of course, for Lida,
but for tlie mother, who also piobably thought of it. He
was pondering over Vaskovski's remarks to the poor
widow. At hist he said :

I overheard you. It's good if it relieved her ; but don't
you see, — if your sentiments were true, we ought to — well
— even be tliankful for Lida's deatli?"

"How do you know we would not after we are gone.'*

"And will you tell me if I confess my ignorance ? "

"I do not know, but I Jiave faith."

This, of c(jurse, could not be disputed. Polanetzki, as
if speaking to himself, said:

" Mercy, life beyond the tomb, eternity — these are ab-
stractions. . . In reality, there is the child's corpse in the
graveyard and the motlier convulsed with hysterics. . .
Did this death arouse hope or faith "^ You i)ity tlie child,
but I suffer. . . Can I lielp asking why did the child
die?. . . I know the question is absurd, unanswerable. . .
Put this is why I feel like gnashing my teeth and cui*s-
ing. . . It is beyond my comprehension, and I rebel —
that's all. Even you will not consider such results
desirable."

In his turn Vaskovski said :

" Christ, as a man, died. Will I, insignificant worm that
I am, doubt God's i)rovidence ? "

" Well, there is little comfort to be obtained from you,'*
returned Polanetzki.

"It's slippery. . . Will you give me your arm?"

And, supporting liimself on Polanetzki's arm, lie con-
tinued :

"Ah, my dear? Yours is a kind loving heart. You
were very fond of the child. You did a great deal for

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194

her. Will you do her the last favor ? — a sliort prayer
for the repose of her soul. . . Whether you helieve or
not do it for lier sake."

" Oh, leave me ak)iie."

"She will he tliankful for your remembrance, and will
obtain God's favor in your belialf."

Polanetzki recalled his last conversation with the priest
in a restaurant. Vaskovski observed then that the life of
the child would not pass without purpose. She would
not die before accomi)lishing lier mission. Polanetzki
now thov^ht if his engagement to Marinya was not tiie
aim spoken of. Then another thought crossed his mind —
perhaps she only lived for that purpose. He suddenly
became enraged at Marinya.

" I do not want her at such a price," he shrieked in-
wardly. " I'd give ten such for one Lida. "

Meanwhile Vaskovski continued.

" I don't see anything ; tljc stones are slippery, and but
for you I would have stumbled."

*' Don't you see, [)rofessor ? " Polanetzki renlied — '* who
ever walks here below must needs look on the earth and
not at heaven."

" Well, you have strong legs."

*' And eyes that clearly see, even in this fog. We all
live in a mist, and do not know what is beyond it. Your
words produce upon me tlie same impression as if you
took a dry stem, threw it in the water and declared that
flowers would grow on it. It is not true. It will not —
that's all. Nonsense I . . Well, here is my gate. Good-
night."

And they parted. Polanetzki returned almost dead
with fatigue. He threw himself down on the bed. His
morbid imagination would not leave him.

" I could philosophize till to-morrow," he murmured.
But for what end? All there is in life is this hand that
casts the sliadow."

His thoughts reverted to Lida. He recalled Vaskovski's
request for a prayer. He began to struggle with himself.
He felt a natural shame to utter words in which he had
no belief.

"But I doxi't know," he thought. " There is a mist

10.1

around us. Certainly, Tny .sluim prayer would be of no
use to lier. . . But then this is the sole service 1 ciin render
that dear child, who on the very brink of death thought

me.

He liesitated a few minutes longer, then on his knees
prayed for the re[)ose of her soul.

The [)rayer did not comfort him. On the contrary, it
aroused a still greater sorrow for Lida and anger at Vas-
kovski for putting him in such a false ))osition. At last
he felt that he iiad had enouijh of aijonizinjj thoujjhts and
self-torment. He resolved to engage the very next day
in some commercial enterpiise with Bigel, only to forget
himself.

But Bigel forestalled him. He came early in the
morning, prol)al)ly for the purpose of distracting him with
business. He willingly set about current business affairs,
but they were engaged only a short time when Bukatzki
entered the room.

" Farewell ! " he said " I leave for Italy tonlay,

and don't know when I'll return. Good-bye ! . , . The
death of that child distressed me more than I ex[)ected. . .
Well, there is this much to say . . . Here, you see, one
cannot detach himself from belief in a sort of grace,
mercy . . . But the reality is so stern. It sets you at war
with yourself, oppresses your soul. Here one always
loves somebody. Another's misfortune fills you with
compassion, agitates you . . . But I don't want this ... It
vexes me . . .

" How will Italy help you ? "

"How? Why there is a sun that we don't see here.
There is art for which I feel a weakness. There are wines
that produce a most salutary effect on my stomach, and
finally there live people that do not in the least concern
me — they might die by the hundreds without causing any
unpleasantness to me. Til gaze at the pictures, buy wiiat
I need, cure my rheumatism. Yes, I'll be a satiated
healthy animal ; . . . this after all constitutes the more
desirable side of our life. Here it is impossible to be an
animal — I must move therefore to a more congenial field.'*

" You are right, Bukatzki. Here we sit plunged into
dismal calculations just to forget ourselves. When we

•I

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!■•

19G

make as large a fortune as you possess, we certainly will
follow your exjiniple. I don't know about Bigel, but I
will."

" Au revoir then," Hukatzki said and went away.

" He is riglit," observed Polanetzki after Bukatzki left,
" I myself would probably be liappier but for that attacli-
ment to Lida and her niotiier."

In this respect we are incorrigible, — voluntarily de-
stroying our lives . . . Really, here one always loves some-
body . . . Continuous sentimentalism . . . Result — contin-
uous heartaches.

*' Plavitski sends Ids regards to you," Bigel interrupted.
** This fellow does not love anybody except himself."

"In fact, that is so. But he has not the reason nor the
courage to declare to himself that self-love is the best con-
dition of existence. On the contrary, he is convinced
that it should be otherwise, and is therefore a slave. In
thi'. instance the lucky possessor of a nature like his must
dissemble even before himself."

Will you be at Panni Chavastovska's."
Most decidedly I "

In fact that day he was there twice. The ladies were
absent the first time he called. He inquired of Plavitski
where his daughter was. The latter replied with pathos:
" Now I have no daughter ! " Fearing lest he might say
something harsh to him, Polanetzki departed and came
back in the evening :

He was met by Marinva. She informed him that
Eniilya had fallen intoa soundsleep for the first time since
the funeral. She held his hand while saying this. Not-
withstanding the chaotic disorder of his thoughts, Pola-
netzki could not fail to observe it. He cast at her an
inquiring glance, and she blushed slightly. They sat
down side by side.

" We went to the cemetery, " Marinya said, " and I prom-
ised Emilya to go there every day."

** Will it be judicious to remind her daily of the child
and thus irritate the wound ? "

" Could you then prevail on her not to go ? I myself
thought at first that it would not be advisable, but am
now convinced to the contrary. Though she •.'•ej)t, she

l',r

felt a little relieved. On our return she recalled Vas-
kovski's remarks. That thought of reuuioii haii become
her only comfort."

*' 1 li(>[)e it will he a real comfort.'*

*' At tirst I tried not to mention Lida, but she herself
wouhl continually speak of hur. You also may talk of the
child, for it apparently relieves her."

Marinya now lowered her voice and icjoined :

*•• She constantly rei)roa('lics herself for liaving listened
to the physician and gone to bed. She regrets the time
lost that might have been sj)ent with the child. The
thouirht is killinsf her. Keturninc: from the cemetery she
inquired how the child looked, how long she sle})t, if she
took the medicine, and what she said. She begged me not
to miss a word."

"And did you tell her all ? "

" Yes."

"How did she take it?"

"She wept."

Both were silent. Marinya at last rejoined:

" I will see how she is."

She soon returned.

" Aslec}), thank God ! " she said.

That evening Polanetzki did not see the widow. She
was as in a lethargic sUunber. On parting, Marinya
again pressed his hand and almost timidly inquired,

" You'll not be angiy with me for having counnunicated
to Emilya tlie 'ast wish of her daughter? "

" At such moments I can't think of myself, " — he replied.
"Now I am anxious for Emilya; if your words relieved
her, however slightly, I am grateful to you.'*

" And so till to-morrow? "

" Y^es, till to-morrow.'*

Polanetzki took his leave. Coming down the stairs, he
thought.

"She evidently considers herself my bride.'*

He was not mistaken. Slie never was indifferent to
him ; on tlie contrary, the bitterness of the affront only
manifested the unusual interest he aroused in her. Be-
sides, during Lida's sickness and funeral he appeared to
her so kind and iioble that she scarcely knew with whom

to compare him. The rest was done by Lida. Her heart
yearned for love. She promised Lichi to many liim.
Tliese were HuOicient eoiisideiatioiis to install him into
the sphere of her life. She w.is one of those women — and
they are not scarce even now — for whom life and duty
mean one and the same thin^^ and who biing \n ith them
into the family a good and iirm will. 'J'liis will leads to
love sercme as the sun, gentle and soothing as the blue of
the lirniament. Life then grows not as a thorn-hush that
cuts and pricks, but as a llower, blossoming anel perfuming
the air.

Tliis country-girl, simple, tender and truthful, possessed
in the highest degree the capacity for life and liappiness.
After Pohmetzki left she did not call him otherwise
than " my Pan Stach."

Polanetzki going to bed thought once more:
*' Yes, she does consider lierself my bride."
But Lida's death had removed iier to the background,
not only in his thoughts but even in his heart.

Now, while again thinking of her and his future awliole
series of questions arose that could hardly find an answer.
He feared them, not ]>ossessing now the strength or the
will to solve them. Will he resume liis former life, with
its sentimentalism, anxiety, self-scrutiny ? Would it not
be more reasonable to dissolve partnership with Bigel, col-
lect the money, and follow Bukatzki into Italy, where
there was the sun, the arts, the wines and the indifferent
crowd in whom death or misfortune would not cause him
a single tear.

VOLUME II.

("i APTKR I.

NoTWiTirsTANi vr i»U his nientiil vicissitudes, tlie
business of the llr:'^ » I' )hiiietzki and IJi^el increased and
pi()S})eicd. Thanks ■ ihc hard conunon-sense, and the
watchfulness of the plik^inatic Bigfl, all orders were at-
tended to witli the customary i)r()nii)tness and accuracy;
and no complaints ever came from their numerous clients.
The firm's re[)Utation was enviahly estahlished. Au era
of piospcrity was in store for the two friends who so wide-
ly (lifftMcd in everything but their zeal for labor. True,
Polanetzki's work was not accompanied by that ease and
tran(|iiillity of former days, but his assiduity surprised
even Higel. His mornings he spent invariably at his desk
in the ollice ; the more his troubles had incrcjised since the
arrival of Marinya at Warsaw, the more devoted he had
become to the task of making money. This task, often
dilhcult, exacting and involving a great strain tipon his men-
tal abilities, became to hiin a necessity, something of a ha-
ven, wherein he sought shelter from the tem[)est, and l*ola-
iietzki delighted in it. ""Here, at least, I know what I
am doing," said he frequently to Bigel, — "and what I am
struggling for; here eveiything is clear and apparent. If
I do not lind in it hap}tiness, 1 will at least find the free-
dom to work and lioard money. Recent events strength-
ened this conviction. He was an absolute dismal failure
in matters emotional and sentimental ; wherever his feel-
ings were concerned, tiie lesult was nothing but bitter
fruits, while his business by reason of its successive gains
seemed to harden him and protect him from calamities.
Polanetzki himself was sincerely convinced that it was so.

190

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■M)

He was mistaken. lie could not help feelinj:^ tlie narrow-
ness of tlie satisfaction ^nven l)y tlu; success of his (iini.
However, at the same time, he said to liimsclf tliat it were
best to clin^ to this liaven, that it were Ixtu r to he a
merciiant upon wiiom Dame Fortune smiled hew itch ini^dv,
tlian to he a romantic indi\idnal to whom Fate lias sliown
no (piarter. The death of Lida preci[)itatcd his dcinsion
to crush within him all indinalions, all cravings and
lonoriucrs tliat differed so much from soher, stern, lealitv,
and ))rouq'ht nothinc^ hut hitter disap))(»iiitmcnts. Natu-
rally, l*it]^el was elated hy his pailner's turn of mind, which

iiicial to til

it(

Folanetzk

was

how(;ver, could not for scn'eiid weeks get rid of past asso-
ciations, or remain indifferent to what only recently was
so near and dear to liis heait. Time and atj^ain, lie visited
the grave of Lida, whose tombstone the lirst fiost liad
bleached. Twice lie came face to face there with Pamii
Chavastovska and Panna Plavitski. Once he escorted the
broken-hearted mother home. She thanked him effusively
for his devotion to her daughter's memory. Polanetzki
noticed that she seemed perfectly tranquil ; and he under-
stood her composure, when she, at parting, said to him:
" I constantly think now, that she who is wedded to
eternity, deems our parting biief ! You know how happy
I am, that she does not long and pine for me ! "

The conviction that rang in lier passionate words as-
tonished Polanetzki. "If this is a self-deception," thought
he, — "it is indeed a gross illusion, which may call forth a
spring of life even fi'om a gravestone ..."

Marinya conilrmed to Polanetzki, that Panni Chavas-
tovska was only kei)t alive by that idea, which alone gave
her strength to bear her grief. For days she discussed
with Marinya the one topic, — death, which she styled a
temporary ])arting. She s])oke with such firm conviction,
so insistently, that finally Marinya seriously began to fear
for her friend's reason. "She speaks of Lida," added
Marinya, " as if the child were alive, and she would see it
to-day or to-morrow."

"This is very fortunate !" remarked Polanetzki. Vas-
kovski rendered a gi'cat service, indeed ; such an idea in
one's head causes no pain ..."

d{
liil
d'
tH

201

*'S]ie is rinrlit after .all ... It is really so . . . "

" I (1(1 K ">|iute it . . . "

Miiriiivii t'litt'i liiincd <ri;vv(' fears for lier frieiuVs liealth.
Slif (ht'iuli'd lier constant (Iwelliiiu on tliat one tliouirht,
hut, at tlie same time sliu looked uj>on death from the same
I)()int of view, in virtue of wliieh ihe slij^dit hint of sl-;ep-
ticism ill Polan(»t/,ki's words somewiiat displeased lier.
Not wishin<( to betray it, however, she ehanged the eon-
versation.

'' I or(h'red tlio enlari>'ement of Lida's photo," said she,
"and yesterday I received three copies. 1 will ^»'ive oiio
of tliem to lOmilya. I was afraid to otVer it to her before,
but now I see that it is perfectly safe, — in fact, — it will
delii^ht her." Slu; went to the book-shelf, took three
pboloLi^iaphs wrapped in paper, then sat down at a small
table near Polanetzki, and began to remove the pictures
from their covers.

"' I'.milya told me," she continued, " about your conver-
sation with Lida before her death, in which the poor child
ex[)resse(l her artless desire that you three were birches
and were fviowincf in the forest each near the other. Do
you i-ecall that conversation ? "

'' Yes, I do. She marveled at the fact that trees live so
lono", and then decided that she wished to be a birch — her
motiier liked thiit one best."

— " And you said that you wanted to grow near lier . . ,
Therefore I determined to sketch birch trees on these
photos. Here, you see, I made a fair beginning — wliich
liowever, did not develop well, because my hancl has held
no pencil or brush for a long time. Neither can I draw
well from memory."

She showed him one of vhe photos, on whicli was a re-
production of a birch. Being somexAhat near-sighted, she
bent over her work so low, that her temple almost touched
that of Polaiietzki.

But she was no longer to him the Marinya of the past
days, the ]Marinya he dreamed of, returning home from
his daily visits to Panni Chavastovska, the Marinya that
dwelled in his heart. That time had passed, and his
thouo'hts turned into another direction. Still, IMarinva
ceased not to be for him that type of womanhood which

■1'

ii^:i ('

"!' •

i' i ^

"i-

i '1

202

exercised such an influence, produced such an impression
upon his masculine nerves, :im(1 now when lier temple
touched his, when with one long wisU'ul look he took in
her pjile face, lier slightly flushed elieeks, lier slender
figure hent giacefully over lier drawing, the old i)assi()ii
awakened, the warm blood boiled witliin him and drove
into liis heatl wild passionate thoughts.

" What would happen, if I were now to kiss her," thought
lie; "how would slie receive my kisses?" And in a mo-
ment lie was sei/^d by a violent, irresistible desire to do
it, even at the cost of losing her respect foi'cver. He
wanted to reward himself for tlie numberless repulsions,
disa[)pointnients, and annoyances, and at the same time,
even aven<»e them.

In the meantime, i\Taiinya<i examining her drawing,
continued: *^ To-day my work seenis to me even poorer
tlian yesterday. Unfortunntely, the trees are now bare —
leafless, nnd I i)ossess no original to copy the birches from. '*

" No, this group is not at all bad," iJrotestedTolanetzki,
"but as it is supposed to lepresent Lida, her mother and
myself, why did you draw four birches? "

''The fourth— is myself," timidly ie[)lied Marinj-a, '*I,
too, wished to grow alongside of you."

Polanetzki raised liis liead from the drawing and quickly
glanced at lier.

Wra}ij)ing up the pictures, she hurriedly added : " With
this child are associated some of my best recollections of
former days. You know, tliat before her death, I spent
most of my time with her and Emilya, . . . and now the
latter is the only and the nearest, dearest friend I possess.
It is as though I belonged to them, like yourself . . . But
there were four of us, . . . now there are only three, and
we're all attached by and to Lida . . . She unite<l us, and
now whenever I think of her, I also think of you and
Emilya . . . Tlierefore f resolved to paint four birches, and
as you see I liave thre(3 copies: one for Euiilya, one for
you, aiul one lor myself. "

"Thank you," said Polanetzki, giving her his hand.

Marinya shook it heartily and added:

"In the remendnance of her, we must forget all our
former slights and disagreements."

?»

"I,

203

" That is long forgotten, and as to myself, I wish it
were so before Lida died."

*' Just from that very moment began my error, and I
beg your pardon."

Now she held out her little hand, and he hesitated be-
tween his desire to impress a kiss upon it and to control
his awakening passion. He did not kiss it.

" Then it means peace?" said he.

" And fri(^ndship," re})lied Marinya.

*' And friendsliip," echoed Pohmetzki.

In the eyes of the young girl shone a deep quiet joy,
which lighted her face witli a tender liglit. Tliere was in
thai f ice now so much kindness and confidence, that
Polanetzki unwillingly recalled that Marinya he knew at
Kremen, on that memorable evening w])en she aat on tlie
piazza, luiloed by the last rays of the setting sun. How-
ever, he was in such a depressed mood since tlie death of
Lida that he thought these recollections unworthy of his
dignity. lie rose and began to take leave.

" Will you not remain with us for the rest of the
evening?" asked Marinya.

*' No, I must go."

"I will notify Emilya that you are going," adaed, sl)e
turning towards the ddor. '^ She is probably now deep
in her tlioughts of Lida, or praying for her soul, or she
would have come in long before this."

*' Do not molest her. I will come to-moriow.^

Marinya drew nearer, and, looking straight into liis
eyes, said with great cordiality :

''And to-morrow, and every day. . . will you not?
R(Mnember that you are now for us — Pan Stach."

Since the death of Lida, Marinya Lad used that name
twice. Going iiome, Polanetzki thonght:

" Now our relations have undergone a wonderful
change. She feels herself to be mine, because she bound
herself with a pi'omise made to the dying child. She is
ready even to fail in love with me, and will not permit
herself to love any one else. . . Such women are to be
found everywhere, and in our country their name — is
legion."

And suddenly he became excited.

. 3*

■iMlL I

fill) ;"'

'^i-^'-

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204

** I know only too well these natures, with icy hearts and
exaltt i heads, filled with so-called regulations ; every-
thing for tlie sake of a rule, everything for the sake of a
duty and obligation, and nothing independent in their
heaits. Had I fallen to their feet, a dying fool, derision
would have been my fate; but when duty commands them
to love, they do love indeed."

Evidently Polanetzki was accustomed in his wanderings
through fi.'reign lands to women of another tyi)e, or at
least, lias resKi about tliem. But as he possesse<l a certain
amount of common sense, his judgment said to liim :
"Listen, Polanetzki, exceptional natu.res exist on whom
solid foundations of life may be biised. Have you lost
vour senses ? You were clamoring- for a wife, not for
a momentary euchantment by a woman."

But Polanetzki began to question within himself and to
reply : " If I am to be loved, I want to be loved for
myself, for my own sake.'*

Reason tried to prove that however might be the begin-
ning of love, he would afterwjird be loved for his own
sake, indeed, that in his case after all his tribulations this
possibility must be regaided ;is a Godsend. But Pola-
netzki persisted in toi-turing iiimself.

At last to the aid of reason came that natural desire f^»r
the possession of Marinya, in virtue of which Polanetzki
disco^'^ered in her more cr.i)iivating charms than in any
other woman. This burning, all consuming desire said to
him: "I know not whether you love her or not, but
to-day when she accidentally drew near to you and lier
face breathed warmth upon 3'our cheek, you almost v»ent
wild. Why do you retain your com])Osure, why are you
cool an(l 3alm in the society of other women? Think of
the ditference ! '*

Polanetzki was stubborn ; to all these arguments he had
but one reply : *' A fish I A veritable lish ! "

And again the thought knocked for admission : '' Catch
her then, if you like this kind best. Men marry — ami it
is high time for you to '^) so. What more do you want?
Do you want a love that will in after days becoi.ie the
subject of your own ridicule? Let your love be dead and
gone, but the enchantment is there strong as ever, and so

•205

is the unshaken conviction that she ia a pure, honest
woman." . . .

*' Yes," he continued to meditate, "but love, stup 1 or
sci.sible, gives birth to freedom. But do I enjoy that
freedom !iow? No, because 1 hesitate, I waver, which I
never did before. Besides, it must be decided: which is
better? Panna Plavitski or "debit and credit" in the
commercial house of Bigel and Polanetzki? Money
creates power and liberty. One may enjoy liberty only
when he bears no burden on his shoulders nor in his

heart."

Thus meditatinc^, Polanetzki reached Ins home and went
to bed. At night lie dreamed of birch trees on sandv
mounds, calm bin 3 eyes and a forehead shaded by dark
hair, from which breathed an intoxicating warmth.

t i

a i

J ,41

20G

CHAPTER 11.

*rr

M, f

One morning, a few tla3^s afterward, before Polanetzki
left Jiis lodging for liis oflice, Miisliko was announced.

" 1 came to you," said the latter, '' with a double |)ur[)ose,
but will begin with the financial side of it so thai you may
be able to answer me briefly ; " yes or no."

"All financial matters I attend to in the office: Tackle
the other."

'* This transaction does not belong to your company ; it
is private, and therefore I wish to discuss it privately. You
know tliat I am aboutto get mariied, and am consequently
in urgent need of money. Exj)enses are as numerous as
liairs on the human head, and bills are becoming due
daily. The date set for the first payment of your claim on
Kiemen is at hand. Can you not postpone it for another
three months ? "

" I shall be frank with you," said Polanetzki, " I can —
but will not."

'' I will pay you in the same coin, and speak openly;
what will you do if I fail to pa}' on the day appointed?"

" Many queer things happen in this world, and this may
be one of them. But it seems to me you consider me a
great deal more wanting in gray matter than I really phi.
I know that you will pay."

" Whence that certainty, pray ! "

*' Marrying a rich girl, you cannot afford to ruin your
chances by declaring yourself bankrupt. You'll wrench
it from Hades, but pay you will."

"From an empty pitcher even the wise Solomon could
scarcely pour out anything."

*' Because he was denied tlie benefit of your lessons. But,
my dear fellow, no one v/ill he.ar us here, and I may just
as well be blunt ; you ha >re never done anything more in
your whole career."

til

207

" So you are convinced that I will pay ? "

"Absolutely."

" You are liglit. I only expected from you a courtesy,
whicli, to tell tlie truth, I liud no right to lio})e for. But
even I, at lasc, feel worn out and exhausted. To take
here, pay there, always living in a whirl, it surpasses all
human strength of endurance. However, I will soon be
safely shelteiud in my haven ; within two months I will
be on my feet again, and sailing with full steam up. So
you cannot grant my request? . . . It's hard I Well, if
there's no other escape, the timber left in Kremen will
go to satisfy your claim."

"What timber? Old Plavitski sold everything there
was."

"No. There is still an oak forest, near Nedlyakoff."

'* Yes, *tis truv3, there is one."

" I know that you and IJigel speculate on such connno-
dities, and I am therefore offering the tind)er to you.
This will save me the trouble of looking for a purchaser,
while you will make a neat gain."

'* Very well. I will speak to Bigel about your propo-
sition."

" Then, you are not rejecting it? "

" No, if your terms are reasonable. But in su(;h tran-
sactions I must have time to consider the probablu gains
or losses. Besides, I do not know your conditions. Pre-
pare them, and send me a detailed description of the loca-
tion of the timber and its alleged quality. I do not
remember it."

" J will send it to you in an liour."

" Then vou will receive an answer to-nirrht."

" One condition I will mention at once: You must not
cut the timber before two months from the date of sale."

-Why?"

"Because Ivrcmen will lose a great deal by the loss of
this natural ornament. And after the wedding I ho[)e to
induce vou to sell me the same at a liigher price."

" We'll see."

"Besides, Kremen has rich deposits of chalky clay.
Plavitski calculated it to be worth millions. But that is
absurd of course. In the liands of enterprising men.

* .
i 'i

. >; . .1

'>':'

t'rJm

• IT

■ i»

20^

however, it may turn out u well-paying investment.
Think the matter over with Bigel, we might work the
thing together, by forming a company.

" Our firm is established for just such transactions. But
they must be good, reliable. . ."

^'Very well. We'll leave this to the future."

" Tlie main idea of our agreement must be such, that I,
in exchange for the sum due you, transfer to you the forest,
or part of it, which is given in a certain sense as a mort-
gage. You agree not to cut the timber before the la[)se
of three months."

*' This can be arranged. There will, indeed, come a
time soon, when good lind)er will be in demand by railroad
companies and others. This can better be discussed at
the drawing of the contract, if it takes place.''

''And so one stone is off my shoulder," said Mashko,
wiping his [)ers[)iring iWehead, " I have daily no less than
ten or iifteen such transactions, not counting my financial
discussions witli Panni Kraslovska. And these transac-
tions come very hard, much harder in fact, than the
courting of a bride, who — "

Mashko stammered for a moment, then waving his hand,
added : "• Who is not too soft or easy."

Polanetzki looked at him witli astonishment. These
woi'ds coming fi'om the li[)s of Mashko, a man carefully
observing the code of wordly mannerisms — gingerly weigh-
ing every syllable — were a great surprise.

Meanwliile Mashko continued : "■ But this is neither
here nor there. Do you rememluM- how, before tlie death
of Lida, we two almost quarreled ? I paid no heed then
to the fact tluit you were so dee[)ly attached to the girl,
that you were alarmed and despairing foi' her health, and
my conduct was somewhat rash and lough. . . I was to
blame* for it myself, and now beg your pardon."

''Tliis has long been forgotten."

''But I recollect it now, because I want you to grant me
one favor. You see, I liave no I'eal friends, nor iclatives,
or such that are worth havino-. I am in dire need now of
a * best man,' and am reallv at sea. . . You know that I
look after tlie estates of niiiny a nobleman. Btit to in-
vite the first clown of a nobleman just because of his title

I'OO

will not do. Besides the idea of it is loatli ome to me.
I want ushers, — respectable ineii, and, to speak frankly,
with good untarnished names, for my Lulies are so partic-
ular about every little thinjif. Won't you be best man?"

'' I would not haye refused you had you come to me
under different circumstances. But now I caiuiot, and will
tellj'ou why : I wear no mourning ollicially, but I give you
my word of honor that I am mourning more now, than if
my own child had died."

^* Yes, I did not think of this. . . Pardon me."

Polanetzki felt ilattered by Mashko's words, and he con-
tinned: ^^ Still if it is necessaiy. If you can, indeed, lind
no one else to take my place, I will submit, though speak-
ing candidly, after such a loss it is hard to participate at a
wedding."

True, Polanetzki did not say: "at such a wedding,"
but Mashko guessed the hidden thought.

••' Besides," continued Polanetzki, — there are other
reasoiis. You surely have lieard of a certain l)eggar — a
physician — who madly loved your betrothed. Naturjdly
no one can condemn her for not returning his love, but
the poor devil went away where beggars go — and, thanks
to her chielly, emigrated — ad patres — you understand?
Well, and I was his bosom friend. He confided in me,
spoke to me of his miseiy, wei)t on my breast. Under
such circumstances to be best man of another — I leave it
to your judgment."

"And he, that physician, really died from the love of
her?"

Have you never heard of it ? "

Not only have I never heard of it, but even now, I
scarcely believe my ears." •

" You know, Mashko: they say that marriage changes a
man ; but I see now that a mere })etrothal plays havoc
with some of them. I fail to recognize you."

"Because, as I told you, I am terribly exhausted and
worn ort. I haven't had a fair bi'cathing-spell. At
such crucial moments the mask falls off."

" The mask ? What do you mean ? "

" I mean that there aie in this world two classes of peo-
ple : some create nothing from nothing and keep tlieir

i(.

';>.*-

. I

■■if;

'Mi

210

actions in harmony with the circumstances. Otliers culti-
vate their own system and act aecordiiioly. I beloni^ to
the second class. I am accustomed to the retaining of a
certain outer ai)pearance, and tliis habit lias grown so
strong witliin me that it has linally become natural. But
you see, when you travel on a very hot day witli a friend,
there come moments to tlie most refined gentleman wlieii
he unbuttons not only his coat but his waistcoat. I am
exi)eriencing such a moment now, I am unbuttoning my-
self."^

" Til is means — '*

** This means that I am astonished at the information
just gleaned that some one, any one, could fall in love
with my wife to be, who, as you once maliciously gave me
to understand, is a cold, cruel creature, an automaton in
lier words, thoughts and movements, as if she were wound
up by a key. It's all true, and 1 conlirm it. I do not want
you to consider me a greater scoundrel than I am in reality.
I do not h)ve my bride, and my wedded life will be as dull as
she is heiself. 1 loved Panna Plavitski who rejected me,
and I am about to marry Panna Kraslovska for her money.
If you say that this is dishonest, I will answer that this is the
road taken by thousands of so-called respectal)le men,
whose hands you shake daily, who live, if not in luxuiy, at
least in comfort. They are lame, but they walk on with
the procession. After awhile to their assistance comes the
growing habit, — years lived down ; children that come to
this world conscious of no wrong; and thus it will go on
to the end of time. Such marriages form the majority,
for the most people prefer to walk upon the even graded
pavement ratlier than to climb mountains. Fjequently
tliLM-e are marriages much worse, for instance when the
woman wants to soar high up in the air and the man is
content to ci'awl in the mud. There can l)e no question of
harmony then. As to myself, I have toiled and laboi'ed
all my life. Dc^scending from an impoverished family I
lonofed to for^e mv way out of the outter. Had I been
imbued with the modest desire to remain an unknown
beggar and lioard money, I niiglit liave succeeded in
saving enough to open widely before my son and heir the
portals of society. But I cherish no love for my chU-

211

dren still unborn. I long to have not only ample
means, but to be somebody, to occui)y a prominent position
in our social life. Tiie result was tiiat the earnings of the
lawyer were spent by tlie Pan, because his position demand-
ed tiiat: style of life. Ergo ! — I have no money. I fim
tired of the constant struggle to borrow heie and pay
there, and vice versa. I will marry Panna Kraslovska,
who gives me her hand simply becanse I am to all appear-
ances a great Pan, or at least make-believe to be one,
da])bling in law as matter of pastime. — The chances
are even, no one is wronged or deceived, or, if you prefer
it, we are both deceived to the same extent. This is
the whole truth, and now, you may des2)ise me, if you
wish to."

"I have never liad a greater respect for you than at this
moment " replied Polanetzki feelingly. " I am astonished
not only at your bluntness, but at your daring, at your
gall."

"I accept your compliment as a sincere expression, but
where does the gall come in?"

" Because yon do not deceive yourself in regard to
Panna Kraslovska, and are still ready to marry her."

*' Because I am more clever than stupid. True, I sought
a dowry, but do you presume for one moment that for the
sake of a dowry alone I conld marry the first woman pos-
sessing money ? Not at all. In marrying Panna Kras-
lovska I know exactly what I am doing. She lias her own
virtues, indispensable under the circumstances under
which she becomes my wife, and under which I am to be
her lord and master. She will be a cold, unpleasant, sour
aye, even haughty wife, if she does not fear me to offset
this. She is like her mother, a religious woman, it mat-
ters not whether sincerely or for form's sake. This is one
point in her favor. Then she is pedantic, she has not in
her the germs that produce the sorceress, the adventuress,
the woman of a certain type. I may not be happy with
her, — but I surely will be at ease, and who knows, but this
is not the maximum of our demands from life ! To you,
my dear fellow, I give the same advice. If you have (h;-
cided to marry, think of your future state of mind, of your
peace, above everything else. In a mistress look for what-

wi-"' ^

i^:

:| .

212

ever you please : sense, cleverness, temperament, poetical
inclinations, sensitiveness, impressiveness ; but with awife
one must spend a lifetime, look for something on which
you can rely, look for soUd foundations."

" 1 never thought you a dullard, but now I see that you
ra'e even much cleveier than I thought you were."

*' You see, our women, for instance, those of the finan-
cial world, are brought up on French novels, and do you
know %vitli what result? "

" I know it more or less, but you are so eloquent to-day
that I am quite willing to hear your version of the
matter."

" She becomes to herself a goddess, a stern law."

" And for the husband ? "

"A chameleon and a drama. Yes, this is a common
occurrence in the financial world, void of all traditions.
There everything is founded on show, on appearance, on
the toilet, under wdiich there rests not a soul, but an ele-
gant animal. But this rich and graceful world, always
amusing itself, permeated with artistic, literary, and even
religious, dilettanteism, holds the baton and directs the
choir."

" We are not so bad yet."

" Probably not. If there are exceptions in our midst,
there must also be some beyond us. We possess other
women — Panna Plavitska, for instance. I can imagine
what tranquillity, what happiness, what bliss, life promises
for the man who mariies such a woman ! Unfortunately,
she had not been created for such as I."

*' Listen, Mashko. I was always ready to recognize
your apparent abilities, but I never suspected you were an
enthusiast."

"No wonder! I loved her, and am now going to lead
to the altar Panna Kraslovska."

The last words Mashko uttered with evident malice,
after which silence ensued.

" And so, you refuse to be ' best man,' " asked he after a
prolonged pause.

" Give me time to think."

" Within three days I will leave Warsaw.'

" And whither, pray ? "

»*

213

*' To St. Petersburg. I have business there. Will
probabl}'- stay there about two weeks."

''Then you shall have my answer on your return."
*' All right. To-day I will sendj-ou a descvi[)t'on of my
timber, in three different shapes and measurements. Any-
thing to avoid payments now."

Mashko took his leave. A few moments later Pola-
netzki, having made his toilet, w^ent to his oll^^e. After a
brief consultation with Bigel he determined to buy the
timber on his own risk. He could not himself very well
explain why he wanted to get a foothold in Kremen
once more. He finished his dail} labors in the office,
liis head still full of thoughts of Mashko, and his opinion
of Marinya. Polanetzki felt that Mashko's words had the
ring of truth about them, that life with n woman like
Marinya could not only be one of ease and tranquillity,
but also a continual chain of blissful moments, days and
years.

At the same time, the conviction grew within him that
Marinya's grave error and all the heartpangs originating
therefrom was the fact that she did not love him at once
with a love absolute a.id sincere, that access to her heart
was to be gained only wlien duty furnished the key. He
did not wish to love, and still wondered when his love
began to wither, that it was more intense when Marinya
was beyond his reach, than now when she was so kind
and winsome.

*'It finally leads to,'' thought he, "that a man ki\,v,5
not where he is, v/hat he wants, and to what he
must hold on to ; in other words he reaches that state
when he's only fit for the devil ! Panna Plavitski pos-
sesses more virtues than she knows herself ; she is pure and
pretty, and my thouglits are all riveted on her, but at the
same time I feel that Marinya is for me no longer what
she has been, that something in me tore itself away and
vanished."

" But what ? "

" If it's the abilityto love, then I reached the conclusion

214

■ ! . f i

long before this that love is a stupid occupation, and
excessive love iibsoliUely absurd. Then I oujj^ht to rejoice
at it, yet I am not content. . . I am agitated, excited,
wretched. . . Then it must be presumed liiat it was the
temporary rehipse ensuing after a surgical operation, or
after a grave disease. That positive life will in due time
fill up this gap of emptiness."

And that positive life for him appeared in the form of
his " conniiercial house."

In the restaurant at noon, he found Vaskovski. Two
waiters were significantly watching tlie old man raise tlie
fork to his mouth, stay its progress lialfway, become
thouglitful and unconscious of his surioundings and
whisper to himself. Indeed, a short time since the profes-
sor acquired the habitof talking to himself, often so Itudly
that people on the streets lialted to look at liim. Now his
blue eyes gazed unconsciously at Polanetzki. Suddenly
he awoke as if from a profound slumber, and continued in
his thought, just bor^ in his dazed brain.

"She declares tliat it will unite her with the child."

" Who declares ? " asked Polanetzki.

" Panni Chavastovska."

" In what manner ? "

*' She intends to enter the convent."

Under the burden of this information, Polanetzki re-
mained speechless for some time. He could ponder to his
heart's content on everything in creation, torment himsell
and others with philosophical vagaries about diseased
thoughts of society to which he belonged, but in his soul
there were the shrines of two saints : Lida and lier mother.
Lida was fast becoming a dear reminiscence, while he still
loved Panni Chavastovska with a brotherly feeling.

He found no adequate words, and finally, looking
severely at Vaskovski, remarked :

"Are you urging her to this? I do not care to delve
and dig into your mysticism, nor into j^our ideas from
beyond a dark planet, ])ut know ye that on your conscience
her blighted life will heavily lie ; that she has not the ne-
cessary physical strength to be a nun, that she will die
before the year is over. Do you understand?"

" You're wrong in passing hasty judgment before lis-

21 .")

tening to my explanations,'' replied Vaskovski. "Have
you ever tliouufht oiUlie signilieance of the saying: 'a

rigliteous man ?

f> y »»

Wlien it concerns the fate of one of mv friends, I
care not a straw for all your ' s;ivin<^s.' "

'' Slie spoke to me a])()nt it yesterday, when I expected
it the least, and when I pnt llie cpiestion to lier : ' Do
you feel yourself strong enough to hear this hurdcn, for
the duties of a nun are many indeed?' she smik'd and
said : ' Make no effort to dissuade me. Tye made U]) my
mind, that tliis is my only refuge and happiness. If I
prove to he weak, acceptance shall he denied me, and, if
accepted, I shall fall under the heavy hurden of the task,
I will join Lida, for whom my soul longs and pines.'
What could I say in reply to this simple determination?
What could you say? Who daies to make the assertion,
that Lida exists no more, that life — in pei'[)etual lahor, in
charity, in self-sacrifice, and death — in Christ, cannot, will
not, hring her to Lida ? Find for lier another form of
consolation, if you can. Give her a glimpse of hope, calm
her with another fair })romise, huthow ? But then, you
will Gee her yourself, and therefore I holdly and frankly
put the question to you: Will you dare to dissuade
her?"

*' No," curtly answered Polanetzki and paused. After a
while he added : ^^ Nothing hut disappointments, nothing
hut worry from all sides I "

" Still she might he told," continued Vaskovski, *' that
instead of hecoming a Sister of IMercjs whose task is hcyond
her slender physique, she might choose a nominal, passive
imnnery. There are such convents and monasteries,
wherein the poor human at once centers on God and ceases
to live its own life, and consequently ceases to suffer."

Polonetzki waved his hand.

"• These things are Greek to me," he said hrusquely, " I
do not understand them."

^' That is just why I hrought witli me a pamphlet in the
Italian language," said Vaskovski uidjuttoning his coat.
"•This pamphlet treats of the Nazarethieinies. But,
strangely enough, I don't know where it vanished to. I
must have left it on the tahle on leavinir the house."

■**!

■i:i

* ( ■'•

'■V

21 ()

" Your Nazarethiennes do not interest me a bit.
Vaskovski, sear(
buttoned also his ^

»>

in liis i)ockots for the pamplilet, un-

so his waistcoat, meditated awhile, then said
" What was I looking for? Oli, yes. I know — the Italian
pamphlet ... In two days I am going to Rome . . . for a
long, very long time. You remendjer, I told you that
Rome was tlie threshold to another world . . . Yes, it's
time for me to go to God's waiting-rooms ... I wish
Emilya would go with me to Rome. But she will not
leave the child's grave, and will remain here — a Sister of
Mercy. May be the rules of the Nazarethiennes would
nave pleased her . . . She is so fair, so simple, as the first
of the Christian women . . . Yes. I leave soon — not with
my head, my dear, there are men there more clever than I
am, men who know what to cling to ; but with my heart,
a little man, but loving, loving, my dear. "

" Professor," remarked Polaneztki, " button your waist-
coat."

" All right. In a minute. You see, I have something
on my heart, which I would like to disclose to you, but
you are hot-tempered, quick as running water, though not
without a soul. Some philosophers think that Christianity
is at its end, but it is not only not ebbing, but is just at
present on its iirst half of the tide . . ."

" My dear professor, " said Polanetzki, a little softer,
" I will willingly listen to all you may have to say, but
not to-day. To-day I think only of Emilya, and tears are
choking me . . . This is a real catastro[)he."

*" But not for her ... As life, so death will do her good."

" Really," grund)led Polanetzki, " not only ever}' feeling
more or less strong, but mere friendship is sure to wind
Up now-a-days in some bitter disap[)oi!itment. Never did
any alTection witli me end in any other way than in some
cahimity. Bukatzki is right: "At all affection — misery
laughs the loudest."

And such is life I"

The conversatiou was iriterrupted or rather, gave place
to a monologue of Professor Vnskovski, who discouiscd
with himself of the beauties of Rome and of Ciiristiaiiily.

After dinner they went out together into tlie cohl ami
frosty street, where the sleigh-bells were merrily ringing.

et, un-
said :
Itiiliau
. for a
L that
t'S, it's
wish
ill not
ster of
would
le first
)t witli
than I
heart,

waist-

lething
ou, but
igh not
jtianity
just at

softer,
ay, but
;ars arc

q-ood."
feelinji;
;o wind
vev did
n some
-misery

e i)la('(^

30U1'S('(1

tiauity.
old and
iniiiiiii".

217

Everything was full of gi'.y winter-bustle, for since morn-
ing considerable snow had fallen, and towards evening
winter weather, clear and frosty, greeted the promenaders.

" Button } our waistcoat," suddeidy said Polanetzki,
noticing that Vaskovski went out into the cold air with
waistcoat open.

- All right. I will."

And Vaskovski began to push the buttons of his coat
into the button-holes of his waistcoat.

" I love this Vaskovski ! " said Polanetzki to himself on
his return home. *' Had I been more deeply attached to
him, however, some evi' would surely have come uj)on
him ; such is my fortune. Happily, I have been until the
present day indifferent to the old man's fate."

But Polanetzki deceived himself. He had felt a sincere
affection for Vaskovski, and was profoundly interested iu
the hitter's welfare.

When he reached liis home and opened the door of his
cabinet, the face of Lida smiled to him from a large picture
sent in liis absence by Marinya. The sight of Lida
touclied Polanetzki to the very depths of his soul. He
frequently experienced such sensations. Every time he
tiiought of Lida or uazcd upon one of her pictures, he
became excited. Then it seemed that his love for the
child, buried in his heart of hearts, revived again with a
living force, pierced his whole being with greater emotion
and compassion. This renewal of pity was so painful to
him that he tried to avoid it, as a man avoids real tor-
ture. In this moment, however, there was something
unusually sweet and atoning in his excitement, l^ida
smiled to him in tlie light of the himp, as if wishing to
whisper: '^ Pan Stacli." Around her dainty little head,
on a white background, glistened the recently })ainted
four bircli trees — tlieworkof Marinya. Polanetzki lialtcd
near the picture, gazed at it long and eai'nestly, then said
thouglitfuUy : " I know the real source of liappiness — it's
chihhi'u : only I shall never love my own, as 1 loved her,"
added he after a short pause.

Li tlie meantime the valet handed him Marinya's letter,
sentwitli the photo. He read: "At the re(|uestof i)apa,
I beg of you to come to us this evening. Kmilya has ro-

(

■

!':

218

moved to her own apartments and prefers to pass the day
in solitude. I send you liere\vith a picture of Lida, and
ask you again to conic without fail. I wish to s{»cak to
you about Eniilya. Papa also invited Bigel, wlioni he
will entertain. We will not be disturbed."

At the appointed hour Polanetzki went to the Plavit-
ski's. Bigcl was there, playing a game of cards witli
Plavitski ; Marinya was seated at a small table Jit some
distance from them, busy with her woik. Polanetzki
bade them all good-evening, and sat down beside
Mariiiva.

"I am very grateful to you for the picture," lie began.
"I liad not expected to see Lida, and she suddenly ap-
peared before my eyes. I could not for a long time take
my eyes from her. . . . You know, such moments serve
as the mcas-ire of that pity, which you cannot define. I
thank you . . . very much . . . also for the four biiches.
As to Emiiya, I learned of her intention from Vaskovski.
What was it ; only an intention or a firm decision?"

" More probably the latter," responded Marinya.

" And what do you Ihink of it? "

Marinya looked at Polanetzki, as if waiting for his ad-
vice.

••' Her strength will fail her," said she.

Polanetzki was silent for some time, and then helplessly
waved his hands.

"I si)oke in a similar vein to Vaskovski," said he. "I
reproved liim because 1 thought it was he who first
broav.lied that plan, but he assured me that he had noth-
ing whatever to do with it, and even asked me to find
some other consolation for her, but I could iind no answer."
*' Aiid, indeed, what is there left for her in life."

*' i'es, you are I'iglit," re[)lied Marinya.

"1 do not understand how she came to entertain tliat
idea? She is prone to outrage her religious feelings, and
ho|>es to die soon. She is aware herscll; tiiat the labor will
be be3'()nd her power of endurance, and still she ^s willing
to sacrifice herself."

"• True,*" added Marinya, and bent her pretty head so low
over her work that Pohinetzki could only see her dark
hair. Before her on the table stood a box filled with

210

»>

beads, which she used for decorating various objects in-
tended for charit}', and now into tliis box of false gems
dropped the precious tears of the young girl."

" I am afraid your effort is futile — I can very well see
your tears," said Polanetzki.

She raised lier moist eyes as if slie wished to say : *' be-
fore you I will not conceal my grief," and said : " I know
that Emilya means and acts right, but I am so sorry for
her! . . ." At this Polanetzki, perhaps on account of liis
excitement, or becanse he knew not what to do or say, for
the first time in his life grasped her hand and kissed it,
and the gem-like tears flowed more abundantly until
finally slie was compelled to rise and leave the room.

Polanetzki approached the card-players at tiie moment,
when Palvitski, with visible iri'itation, but politely, said to
his partner: "Rubicon after Rubicon! What would you
do? You are the representative of modern times. I
stand for old traditions, and therefore must be beaten."

"This has nothing to do with the game," phlegmatically
replied Bigel.

Marinya soon returned and announced that tea was
ready. Tliough her eyes were still somewhat red, her face
was full of repose. Wlien, after tea, Plavitski and Bigel
sat down once more at the card table, Polanetzki resumed
his conversation with Marinya in a quiet, confidential tone,
such as is used mostly by intimate friends having great
interests in conunon. True, tliis interest was the death
of Lida and the calamity of Panni Chavastovska, and
their conversation was, consequently, not a merry one;
nevertheless, her eyes, if not her lips, smiled on Polanetzki
— now sadly, then joyfully.

Polanetzki departed late in the evening, and Marinya,
thinking of him, mentally referred to him as " Pan Stach.'*
He ' eturned home in a better mood than ever before since
the death of Lida. Pacing his room, he fre(]uently halted
before the child's picture, looked at the four birches and
thouglit that the knot by wlii(;h Lida had joined him and
Marinya was drawn closer and tighter every day by some
mysterious force.

He also thought that if lie; lacked the former ea^-erness
to strengthen this knot, lie also lacked the courage to cut

!S*f.-«f

220

it in twain with one blow, especially now, so soon after
Lida's death.

It was late the same niglit when he began to examine
the description of the forests sent by Mashko. From
time to time he erred in liis calculations, seeing before
him nothing but Marinya's head bent low, and her tears
falling into the jewel-box.

On the following day he bought from Mashko the oak
forest of Kremen on conditions very favorable to himself.

2-21

CHAPTER III.

Two weeks later Masliko returned home from St.
Peler.sbiirg, perfectly satislied with the turn in liis own
affairs, and brouglit news which lie chiinied to have re-
ceived from reliable sources — news no one heard before!
It was to the effect that tlie grain crops promised to be a
failure I In some districts a famine was feared, and it
could easily be conjectureu that toward spring the entire
amount of grain held in reserve would be exhausted ; that
a bread famine would be(M)me neneral throughout the
em[)ire. Owing to this, wise heads predicted that expor-
tation of grain would be ])rohibite(l. I\his]iko ariived
with the echo of these rumors, vowing thi.t lie obtained
them from competent persons. This cii'cumstance made
Polanetzki do some thinking. He locked himself in his
room for several days, and, armed with a pencil, began to
make calcuhitions. Tliis resulted in liis })roposal to Higel
to invest all the capital within their reach, as well as the
credit of tlieir commercial firm, in the corniiing of bread-
stuffs. Bigel at first took fright at this daring projjosition.
But it was always thus with him at the beginning of eveiy
new (snterprise. Of course, Polanetzki did not conceal
that this operation must 1)0 performed on a large scale,
tliat uj)on it depended the success or failure of the
firm, wlio would thereby profit tremendously, or find its
ruin.

A positive, absolute ci'ash was, however, not to be feared,
while success would enrich their firm and make tliem per-
sonally very wealthy. It could lui safely foietohl that,
owing to tlie lack of grain, the [)rices would take a jump
upward. Polanetzki foresaw it all with as much clear-
sightedness as a man with liis temperament could do; but
even Bigel, regardless of his cautiousness and prudence,
was forced to confess that the prospects of large gains

■•y.

i X.,

.i V

'i-i

■ i I

90.7

were very bright ; that it were a pity, indeed, to miss such
a golden opportunity.

After several conferences, Bigel's opposition began
to weaken. Folanetzki's plan was adopted, and within
the following few days the general agent of the firm,
Abdulzki, was sent out with the power of attorney fur-
nislicd by the firm to draw contracts for grain leady for
the market, as well as for the incoming crop.

Abdulzki was soon followed by Bigel himself, who went
to Prussia. Polanetzki was left alone at the head of the
large concern. He labored from morning till night ; he
shunned society, and received no one.

Time flew unnoticed, for lie was animated, inspired by
the hope of large profits and the prospects of a wider field
of action in tlie future.

Deciding liimself to plunge into this speculation, and
dragging Bigel into it, he felt assured of its ultimate suc-
cess. But another thought occupied his mind at the
same time : Their commercial house, together with all its
transactions, was a narrow field for his sphere of activity,
for his abilities and energy, and he was perfectly con-
scious of it. It was the principle of the firm to buy
cheaply and sell at an advanced price, — to deposit the
money in the bank, and begin anew. This was its only
aim and goal, tlie purchase on its own risk, or agency for
others, and no more. Polanetzki fretted and fumed in
the harness.

**I would like," he thought during the moments of his
dissatisfaction witli Bigel, " to dig into something, to mine,
to manufacture. We, speaking properly, produce noth-
ing, a]id from the flow of gold tliat passes through our
hands, we direct only one little streamlet into our own
pocket." And he was right. His dream was to acquire
a fortune, to come into possession of a large capital, and
then })ut his gold and brains into some work, which would
create for him a large field for activity and invention.
Now, it seemed to him, tlie rare opportunity presented
itself, and lie grasped it, as it were, with both liaiids.

" I will tliink of the rest later," said he to himself.

"The rest," to him, was anotlier name for the troubles
of his heart, soul, his relations to religion, to mankind, to

223

woman. Ko clung to the conviction that whoever wished
to remain at peace witli life liad but to make clear to him-
self all tliose relations, and then gain a firm foothold.
There are men who never duriu"- their entire career know
what they repi'esent, whom every wind sways, now to this,
then to tlie other side. Polanetzki did not desire to
be one of these. In his present mood he foresaw that
these questions can be solved. I want to see clearly,
whether or not, I am compelled to do something, said he
to himself. In the meantime he worked, and saw but few
people.

Notwithstanding his urgent labors, he ceased not to
visit Panni Chavastovzka, but often he found her absent,
and once encountered in her apartments Panni Pigel
and both Kraslovzkis, whose presence greatly confused
him. At last, when Maiinya declared that Emilya would
in a few days begin life in her new sphere, he went to
take his last farewell. He found her perfectly composed,
and even gay ; but at the sight of her his heart was
oppressed with pain.

Her face was transparent, and in places looked as if
chiseled from alabaster. On the temples through the skin
wei'e visible the blue veins. She could safelvbe called an
unearthly beauty, but at the same tiine extremely pitiabi
and Polanetzki painfully thought: "Evidently, this is
the last time I will take leave of her, she will not live
more than three months. From this affection will spring
a new misery, another bitter regret."

She began to speak to him about her decision, as if it
were a very ordinary affair, which is self-understood, and
is merely a natural consequence of what had previously
happened; a refuge from life, deprived of all founda-
tions. Polanetzki understood that it would be idle to
dissuade her.

"You will remain here in Warsaw?" asked he.

"Yes; I wish to be near Lida. The Mother Superior
promised me that at fust I shall remain in the liome of the
Sisteis; and after, when 1 become acquainted with my
duties, I will be appointed to one of the local hos[)itals.
I will be at liberty to visit my Lida every Sunday."

polanetzki closed his teeth, but said not a word ; he

'l; . ■

■ \

>'.j:..

224

gazed mutely at that waxen face, the thin hands, and
thought : '"• Can it be possible tliat tliese tliin trembling
hands will attempt to make bjuidages to lielp the sick and
wounded ? "

But at tlie same time it was clear to liim that she strove
for something else. Siie wislied undoubtedly that Deatli
would come, without lielp from lier, not for her sins, but
as a rewai'd for her virtues, a leward for her tortures, for
the loss of Lida, whom she craved to join in that happy
land tliat already smiled on her.

Those were heavy days for Polanetzki — the last visits
and leave-takings. He was deeply attached toPanni Cha-
vastovska, and he felt that the thread that united them had
snapped, that llieir paths had parted forever: He to pursue
his way along the path of life; and she, hoping that lier
life would soon burji o\it like a camjvfire, had chosen a
mission, blessed and noble, but beyond her feeble strength
and which would shorten life and hasten the hour of death.

This thought sealed his lips with silence. However, at
the last moment, the devotion of long years overcame all
other feelings, and with sincere compassion, he kissed her
hand.

"My dear," began lie, "my dearest. . . God guard
you from evil, may He in His mercy console and cheer
you ! "

Words failed him, but she, still holding his hands in her
own, added :

"Till my last breath I will not forget him who loved
Lida so well. I learned from Marinya that my little one,
before her death, united you two, and I hoi)e that your
day of happiness has come, or else God would not have
inspired the dying cherub with that noble thought. And
whenever I will meet you in my future life, I will always
think tliat your happiness is the work of Lida. God
bless you both ! "

Polanetzki made no reply, and on his return home,
thought : " The will of Lida ! " She does not even admit
the possibility of that will being ignored. But how could
I tell her at that moment that Marinya was no longer to
me what she had been before?"

However, lie felt that this could not last long — that the

pcf

cliJiiii which joinefllnm to Marhiya had either to he broken
jit once, or become stroiii^eriiiid closer, in order to end that
strange, unnatural state of affairs, these constant niisunder-
slandinqs, those cares and annoyances that tornient(.'d him.
But to ctit it all short quick action was essential: hesita-
tion was dishonest. And a new tantalizing tlis(|uietu(]e
seized him: it seemed to him tliat no matter what lie did,
liow he acted, the loss of hap])iness would be the penalty.

At home he found Mashko's lettei", contp'ning the fol-
low in o;- : " I have been here twice to-day. A certain
demented individual insulted me in the presence of my
creditors, making vile insinuations about my sale of the
oak forest. Tliis maniac's name is Goutovski. I must
speak to you and will come again to-night."

And, indeed, before an liour liad elapsed, Mashko ap-
peared, and not taking off his overcoat, asked Polanetzki :

'' Do you know Goutovski ? "

" I do. lie is a neighbor and relative of the Plavitskis.
What happened ? "

Mashko took off his coat, and then replied :

"I do not understand how he ever got the information
about the sale. I spoke to no one about it, and naturally
could hardly do so."

** Our agent Abdulzki went to Kremen to inspect the
timber, and, I presume, in some manner, let the news
leak out."

*' Now, listen, what has happened." To-day I was
handed the card of Goutovski. Not knowing him, I or-
dered the valet to let him in. In comes a burly scamp,
with the direct question on Ins lips: is it true that I sold
the forest, that I intend to sell Kremen in parts for coloni-
zation purposes ! Instead of a reply, I asked liim wdiether
it was anj' of his business. Suddeidy he shoots out :
" You are under obligations to ])ay the Plavitskis an
annuity for life, and if you manage Kremen in a j)iratic
fashion, you will ruin the estate, and 30U will be forced
to the wall." Of course, I advised liim most politely to
take his hat, to button his coat and make his bow. riiis
led hi-n to indulge in choice adjectives, in the presence of
some of my creditors, calling me a scoundrel and a schem-
ing swindler, and wound up by saying that he resided at

2-2G

: ■ 4

^m\

the " Hotel Saxon." AVitli this and a parting vollej'" of
ahuse he departed. Will you not bo kind enough to lind
the key to tliis puzzle, and do you know what it all
means? "

" I do. First, Goutovski is a ver}^ rougli and ignorant
man ; second, he lias been in love with Panna Plavitski a
number of years and wishes to be her knigiit-gallant."

*' You know that generally I am very cool, but at times
I think it all a dream, that I should have permitted a
man to heap insults upon nu% because, foisooth, I disposed
of my own property. It is be^^ond all endurance."

" And what do you intend to do with him ! Plavitski
will be the first to box his ears and compel him to apol-
ogize."

At this Mashko's coun.tenance assumed such a cold,
wicked expression, that unwillingly Poh netzki thought:
** the bear has made a mess of it, and will have to swallow
it now."

" No one lias ever insulted me during my life witliout
having been justly punished for it," replied Mashko.
" You ee that I am speaking composedly, coolly, therefore
listen to me : Ruin stares me in the face, after which I
win never be able to rise to mv feet aq-ain."

'* Though you look cool, rage is choking you, — and you
are exaggerating matters."

'* Not a bit. Listen to me patiently. IMy condition
is such : if my marriage is broken, or delayed for a
few months — everything is lost: my position, my credit,
my Kremen — in sliort, all I possess. I told you before
that I am riding on the remnants of lost power aiul I
must soon halt. Kraslovska marries me, not because she
loves me, but becanse she has seen twenty-nine summers,
because I am a sufficiently good match for her. And if it
should appear that I do not represent in reality what she
expected of me — the affair will be off in an instant. Had
these women known that I sold the forest for want of imme-
diate cash, my rejection would have followed immediately.
Now, judge for yourself : the scandal was in public, in the
presence of my creditors ; you cannot hide a darning
needle in a bag. Let's admit for argument's sake that I
could prove that the sale of the timber had nothing to do

'2'27

cold,

with my finances, the reswit remains just the same. If I
don't challenge Goutovski, respectable people may deem
themselves jnstilled to cut me forthwith, as a man without
lionor. If I do challeime him, those dear ladies of mine
might hang their doors before my very face. If I kill
(Joutovski, tlicy will i\vQ from me as from a murderer. If
I am wounded, they will shun me as a poor weak fool,
whoallowed liimself to be insulted by the tii'st rowdy, and
could not avenge his insult. It is a liundied cbances to
ten that they will act just as I liave said. Now you will
understand wh}'- I said that everything would be lost : my
position in the woild of finances, my credit, and, in addi-
tion, my Kremen. . ."

Polanotzki waved his hand with the egoism of a man
toward another, who does not in tlie least interest him.

"•Well, as to Kremen, I might, perliaps, take it back
from you,'' said he, '' at all events, the position is a
deuced ly disagreeable one. What do 30U propose to do
with Goutovski ? "

" You see : up to this very moment T have paid my debts
promptly," replied Mashko, " you refused to be my best
man, will you not be my second?"

"■Sueh honors are not declined."

"Thank you. Goutovski can be found in the ' Hotel
Saxon.' "

*' I will call upon him to-morrow."

Mashko went away. A few minutes later Polanetzki
went to Plavitski.

" One had better not indulge in jokes with Mashko,
though he cannot be indifferent to this affair, yet it does
not concern me ; Avhat am I to them or they to me ?
However, I am devilishly lonely in this world ! "

"And suddenly he felt that there was one being that
thought him a good respectable man, and that one being
was ^larinva."

And he was right. No sooner had he entered their
house, than he was convinced by the mere pressure of her
hand that it was true. Her voice as she greeted him was
full of caressing tenderness :

" I felt that you would come," said she, " and here, as
you can see, your cup stands waiting for you — tea is ready.

7:'

228

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1. 1

! 11

^ CHAPTER IV.

PoLANETZKi fouud at the Plavitskis' Pan Goutovzki.
The young men exchanged a cokl greeting. There was
not a more miserable man that day in the wliole workl.
Old Plavitski, as was his custom, made fun of liim and
his manners, being in a merry mood, owing to the death
of his female relative from whom he ex[)ected to receive
a large inheritance. Marinya was visibly confused by his
presence, although she made every effort not to betray it,
and Polanetzki made believe that lie did not see liini at
all. Jt was evident that Goutovzki had not mentioned
a word to Plavitski about his encounter with Mashko, and
now treml)led lest Polanetzki should make tliis the theme
of his conversation. Polanetzki divined his purpose at
once, as well as his own advantage over the ''bear," which
advantage he intended to make ca})ital of in behalf of
Mashko, but he was silent on the suhiect; and wisliing to
punish the jealous Cioutovzki, was amiability itself with
Marinya during his prolonged visit. Leaving Goutovzki
to the care of Plavitski, they marching gaily np and down
the parlor, then they sat down on the sofa by the palm
tree, and discussed Panni Chavastovska's entrance into
the convent of the Sisters of Mercy.

At times it seemed to Goutovzki that only a betrothed
cou[)le could chat in such an intimate manner, and in
those moments he felt something akin to what an emng
soul might feel in purgatory — even worse — for such a soul
may still hope for salvation, as a soul that enters the gates
bearing the inscription: '-'• Lasciate 0(ini speranza^^'' '^Aban-
don ho{)e all 3'e who enter here." Seeing them together
lie conjectured, not without some grounds for it, that
Polanetzki, whom he considered very shrewd, induced
Mashko to sell the timber too-ether with the land it sfrew on,
SO as to save even a small part of Kremen — the dear old

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place tliat she hiinented as h)st foiever, tlie only nest that
held for her all she loved in tlic days of lier youtli.

Tl»e slightest thought of this and the row witli Mashko
set ])is hair on end. Plavitski, list(Miin<jf to his tactless, or
or altotretlier irrelevant answers, lanjj^hed at the provisicial
who lost his presence of mind in tlie city. Himself, Pla-
vitski considered a man of the world, and sneered the
more at him.

It hap[)ened that Marinya left for the dining-room to
prepare tea, and Plavitski went to his room for a cigar.
The young men remained togetlier.

"After tea," Polanetzki said, " we'll go out together;
I desire to speak to you ahout your (piariel with Masliko."

"All right," Goutovski returned sullenly, perceiving
that l*olanetzki was Mashko's second.

However, they had to remain for a while after tea.
Plavitski, not dis])Osed to go to bed so early, invited
Goutovzki to a game of chess. iVIarin3'a and Polanetzki
sat down together, and lield quite an animated conversa-
tion, to the gieat discomfort of the " little bear."

" You are, probably, veiy pleased at the arrival of Pan
Goutovzki," remarked Polanetzki. ** He reminds you of
Kremen."

There was an expression of surprise on Marinya's face.
She thought that, in virtue of a tacit understanding be-
tween them, Kremen was never to be recalled in their
conversation.

" I don't think any more of Kremen," she said. Deep
in her heart she felt an intense craving for the place of
hei" childhood, where she worked so many years and
cherished her hopes. But in virtue of her feeling toward
Polanetzki, which she felt grew stronger every day, she
studiously avoided the mention of that town.

" Kremen," she i-ejoined, " was the cause of our mis-
understanding. And I would have undisturbed happiness
with you now."

Saying this she cast at Polanetzki a charming, coquettish
glance.

"However, she is very kind," mused Polanetzki.

" You possess a powerful attraction. With your kind-
ness you can lead me wherever you will — even into hell."

280

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If;

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if:' A

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■■• I" 1

Marinya shook her head.

" I have no wish to lead you thither."

Polanetzki, looking at her smiling face, could not help
thinking :

" Whether I love her or not, there is no other woman
who attracts me as much."

In fact, he never liked her as much as now ; not even
when he was sure of her love and suppressed his feelings.

Meantime, it grew late. He took his leave, and was
soon on the street with Goutovski.

Polanetzki, who could not control himself, stopped the
unlucky *' little bear," and almost defiantly demanded :

"You knew that I bought the forest in Kremen ? "

" Well, yes. Your agent, a Tartar, I think, has com-
municated it to me."

** If you knew, why did you pick up that row with
Mashko ? " Polanetzki retorted, pressing him to the wall.

"Now, have the goodness to stop squeezing me," replied
Goutovski. " I don't like it. I injured liim and not you,
for you don't owe anything to Plavitski. He has to pay
yearly the sum agreed upon in the contract ; if he ruins
Kremen he will have nothing to pay with. Now do you
see why I raised that row ? "

Polanetzki confessed inwardly that Goutovski was
partly right, and he continued the conversation in a differ-
ent tone.

" Pan Mashko has invited me to officiate as his second,'*
he said, — " that is tlie reason of my meddling in this affair.
To-morrow I will formally call on you — as a second ; but
to-day I, as a private individual, and somehow related to
Plavitski, must declare to you tlie following : If Plavitski
and Marinya remain without a moi*sel of bread, it will be
due to you. Yes, sir ! "

Goutovski's eyes opened wide.

" Without a morsel of bread I " he uttv^.ed, ** and I the
cause of it I"

" Yes, sir I " repeated Polanetzki. ** Hear me. What-
ever the consequence of your quarrel,— and it must be
deplored— you ruined Plavitski and his daughter— you
deprived them of all means of existence.

Though Goutovski did not relish very much being

231

pressed against the wall, yet he now got close to it, he lost
his head, and stood there with mouth wide open, not
knowing what to say.

" How? How is that? " he murmured. " O no ! You
may be sure it will never come to that,— never, even if J
have to give them my own Yabrijikow."

" Don't waste words ! " interrupted Polanetzki. " 1
have known your farm since my childhood. I know Ya-
brijikow and its worth ! "

It was true. Yabrijikow was a small estate with more
debts attached to it than tliere were liairs on Goutovski's
head, the debts were hereditary. Now he stood in dismay.

Suddenly tbe thought crossed his mind tluit perhaps the
state of affairs was not so liopeless as Polanetzki would
have him believe. He clung to this thought with the
tenacity of one drowning.

" I don't understand it," he exclaimed. " I take Heaven
to witness that I would rather ruin myself than the Pla-
vitskis. I would readily wring Masliko'a neck, but if it
concerns the Plavitskis Pd sooner go to the devil. After
the scandal I went to Yamish ;— he came here for the court
session. I confessed to him everything, and he also dis-
approved. If the result of this affair were confined to ni}'-
self alone, I would not move a finger ; but now I'll do
just as he advises me, even if they hang me afterwards I
Yamish stops at the Saxon Hotel ; I also stop there."

With these words Goutovski left in the direction of liis
hotel, cursing liimself, Mashko, and Polanetzki. He knew
that Polanetzki told him the trutli, that he had done some-
thing extremely irrational and injured Marinya, for wlioni
he would willingly shed his last drop of blood. He was
conscious of a great calamity tliat deprived him of his last
hope concerning Marinya • Plavitski will now close his
doors to him, and Marinya will marry Polanetzki— unless
Polanetzki himself does not want lier. But who can re-
ject sucli a girl ! Goutovski clearly saw that among the
aspirants for hor hand lie must necessarily take a back
seat. "What have I?" he asked himseli, "wretched
Yabrijikow, and tliat's all : neither talent nor money. I
am ignorant and valueless. Take Polanetzki : he is
educated, rich . . . and as to my greater love for her, who

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232

is the happier for it, if I am such an accursed fool, that
instead of assisting her I harm lier."

Polanetzki going liome thought the same of Goutovski.
He had no compassion for him. Entering the loom lie wag
met by Mashko, who had been awaiting him there over an
hour.

" The other second will be Krasovoki," Mashko said.
Polanetzki frowned.

" I spoke to Goutovski," he returned.

" Well ? "

" O, lie is simply a jackass."

*'Well, did you tell him anything in my name?"

" No. I spoke to him as a relative of Plavitski to whom
he thinks he rendered such a good service."

*' You did not explain anything?"

*^ No. But listen to me, Mashko. You want complete
satisfaction. Well — I don't object if you do blow out each
other's brains. But, thanks to my warning, I expect he
will agree to all your terms. Fortunately he looks to
Yamish as his adviser, and this latter is a reasonable man ;
who also thinks that Goutovski acted absurdly, and will
readily deliver to him an appropriate lecture."

*' Very well," replied Mashko. "Give me a pen and
paper."

" There they are on the table."

Mashko sat down and began to write. After a while he
handed to Polanetzki the following epistle :

" I hereby acknowledge that in a state of drunkenness
and irresponsibility, I assaulted Mashko, and muttered
things of which I could not give myself an account. To-daj^
being sober and in my senses, I recognize my actions as
mad and rough — this in the presence of all witnesses, my
own as well as INIasliko's. I now appeal to Mashko's wis-
dom and kindness, beg his pardon, and confess that his
treatment of myself is just."

"This paper must be read aloud and signed by
Goutovski," said Masliko.

" Well, this is too much ! Nobody could agree to
that."

"You realize that this rogue's conduct has been some^
thing extraordinary?"

233

« I do."

'* You comprehend what a bearing this scandal is likely
to have on my affairs? "

"I am ignorant of that."

" Well, 1 know, and let me tell you frankl}^ those
ladies regret very much their connection witli me, and
they will embrace the very lirst opportunity to rid them-
selves of me. This is certain, and I am ruined."

'* And so you perisli I" sneered Polanetzski.

*' Yes, sir. Now you understand that the affair cannot
be hushed. Goutovski must satisfy me iu some form foi
the affront."

Polanetzki shrugged his shoulders.

'^I do not at all sympathize with him; therefore, let it
be as you will.'

" To-morrow, at ten o'clock, Krasovski will call on
you."

-All right."

" And so — good-day. By the by — if you see Plavitski,
tell him Ploskovska, his relative, has died in Rome. Pie
expected an inheritance from her. Tiie will is with the
notary-public Podvoyny ; it will be opened to-morrow."

- Plavitski has learned already about it. She died five
days since."

Polanetzki was left alone. The question of how to get
his money from the insolvent Ahishko tioubled liim very
much. Then he recollected that the whole sum could not
be lost, and that, at the worst, he would again become
Plavitski's creditor. Though the paying capacity of
Kremen was no better than Mashko's, he had to abide
by it.

Now, different thoughts occurred to liim. He recalled
Lida, her mother, Marin^'a. Now he discovereu how
different is the woild of wonum — created for love and
liap[)iness — from that of men, rei)lete witli rivalry,
struggles, duels, stvife for riches and power. At tliis
moment he felt that if thei'C exist in this world rest,
tranquillity and hap})iness, one must st'ck for tlie mamong
loving women. But this idea conllicted with his late
philosophical princi[)les. However, comparing the two
worlds, he came to the conclusion that the feminine world,

p- ■

.'5"

234

loving and soothing, has its own foundation and aim in
life.

If Polanetzki were more familiar with the Holy Scrip-
ture, he Avouhl recall these words : *' Mary hath chosen
the good part."

■^'M.

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235

CHAPTER V.

Krasovski was late a full hour. lie was a man of a
certain type found among us. He lived in idleness, and
possessed a considerable fortune. Tliis, trgetlier with
some popularity he enjoyed, made his position in the world
secui'e. He was considered worthy of confidence, and liis
advice was sought in the most delicate matters. People
turned to him for arbitration ; in matters of honor he was
considered invaluable. He had access to the hinhest
financial s[)heres ; hispresenee was sought at dinners, wed-
dings, clu'istenings and on simihir occasions, for he was
the hap])y possessor of a i)atrician bald-head, thorouglily
Polish countenance, and an ability to do justice to the
meals.

In reality, he was a man disappointed in everything,
irascible, but not dcpiived of a eenain humor, which en-
abled him to note the comical side ol" the most trivial thing's,
not excluding his own irascibility. He \\()uhl even allow
others to be jocose on his score, but only moderately. If
anybody went too far, he would stand up defiantly, and
was considered, therefore, dangerous. He was credited
with great presence of mind and courage. He respected
?K)b()(ly and nothing, except his own noble pliysiognomy.

Coming up to Polanetzki, he at once began to explain
■ lu^ cause of delay.

"Did you ever observe that when one is in a liurry he
will be sure to miss some necessary thing? 'i'he servant
goes for the hat, can't find it, looks for the rubbers, not
there. And this just wlien one is in haste."

'* Yes, this liappens," returned Polanetzki.

*' I even invented a lemedy for this evil; ifsometliing
is lost, I sit down, smile, and say loudly: 'I likc^ sonic-
times to miss a thing; one becomes animated, runs
around, seeks, kills time, and this is so pleasant and

2^1)

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health}/.' And what do you think ? Tlie thing appears
as if by magic."

" Such an invention shouhl entitle you to a monopoly.
However, let us talk of Alashko."

" We will have to call or; Yamish. jNIasliko lias sent
to me a written acknowledgment, which (joutovski must
sign, and lie will not change a single word in it; but it is
too humiliating, impossible, and cannot be acccjitcd. Cer-
tainly, a duel awaits us — thei-e is no other issue."

Goutovski leaves it to Yamish, and will do liis bidding.
Y^amish is also dissatisiied with Goutovski, being sick, and
naturully of a peaceful disposition, who knows but lie
might }et agree to the conditions."

''Yamish is a sluggaid," retorted Krasovski. "How-
ever, it is time for us to go."

And they went. Yamish, though ex])ecting the visit,
received them in his dressing-gown, for he was really
sick.

Krasovski, gazing at his intelligent but shriveled and
sunken countenance, thought :

"Indeed, this man will agree to everything."

"Take a seat, gentlemen," said Yamish. "I came here
three days ago, and, tb.ough sick, I am heartily glad to see
you. Togetliei', perhaps, we will be able to adjust this
affair. Believe me that I was the first to censure him."

He shrugged his shoulders, and then turned to Polan-
etzki :

" Well, how are the Plavitskis ? I have not called on
them yet, though I long to see my dear Marinya."

"She is well," returned Polanetzki.

"And how is the old man?"

" Expects to receive a legacy from a dead relative, but
I hear that she left everything to charitable institutions.
To-day or to-morrow the will is to be I'cad."

"It would be fine if heaven inspii-ed her to leave some-
thing to Marinya. However, let us to business. It is
sui)erfluous for me to mention that it is our duly to settle
the affair jieace fully."

Krasovski nodded impatiently. He was heartily sick of
these introductions, which God knows how many times
iu his life he had heard.

287

*' We are well impressed with this sense of our obliga-
tion/' he returned.

" And so 1 tln)ught," good-naturedly rejoined Vaniish.
I acknowledge that Goutovski liad no light to act as ho
did; therefore, it is my own wish that he should he i)rop-
erly punished. I will yield to everything that may satisfy
Mashko's lionor."

Krasovski took out of liis pocket a folded paper and
handed it with a sneer to Yaniish.

" Masldvo demands," he said, " that Goutovski shall read
this certificate in tlie presence of Masldvo's and his own
witnesses, as well as in the presence of all tliose persons
tliat were at the disturbance. He also wants liim to sign
liis honorable name under this testimony."

Yamisli looked for his eyeglasses among the papera on
the table. He found them at last, and, putting them on,
he began to read. As he read, his face l)ecame suffused
with redness, and then suddenly it giew pale ; lie breathed
heavily. Polanetzki and Krasovski could not believe
their eyes that before them was the same Yamish, who a
moment ago was ready for all concessions.

" Gentlemen !" he exclaimed abruptly, "though Gou-
tovski acted as a turbulent squabbler, he is, nevertheless,
a nobleman. This is my reply in his name to Mashko."

He deliberately tore the paper into fragments and scat-
tered it on the lloor.

This was unexpected. Krasovski now meditated
whether he himself as a second was not insulted ])y Yam-
ish's action. In an instant his face assumed a frigid ex-
pression and began to wrinkle like the face of a cruel dog.
Polanetzki enjoyed this indignation.

" Counsellor," he returned, " Mashko, in fact, is greatly
injured, and must demand of Goutovski complete satisfac-
tion. But Krasovski, as well as I, foresaw your answer,
and it only made oui- regard for you more profound."

Yiimish sat down, and, suffering with his asthma,
breathed violently.

" I could have offered a retraction on Goutovski's part
in another form, in different expressions, but I sec
it would be in vain; I decided, therefore, to terminate tlie
affair. Vilkovski, Goutovski's other second, will be here

238

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in a moment. If you can wait a wliile, we will then
consider llie conditions of llie duel."'

" Tiiis I call going directly to the point," replied the
conciliated Ki-asovski.'

*' Yes, out of necessity, and a very sad necessity,'*
returned Yamish.

Polanetzki looked at his watch.

"At eleven o'clock I must be in my office. Witli yoiii-
leave, I'll go and be back at one o'clock to look over and
sign the agreement."

*' Very well. I assure you beforehand that the condi
tions will be such as not to cause lauohter, but I also ex.
pect that you and Krasovski will. not make them extreme."

" As to this you need feel no anxiety. I will not be
headstrong."

Polanetzki left. Some very urgent business matters
awaited him in the office ; in Bigel's absence he had to
dis[)ose of them himself. At one o'clock he repaired again
to Yamish, and signed the articles governing the duel.
From there he went to the restaurant for his dinner, ex-
pecting to meet INFashko.

Tlie latter did not appear; lie was evidently at Kras-
lovski's. Instead of liim he found Plavitski, who was, as
usual, elegantly dressed, clean-shaved, but as gloomy as
night.

"• What are you doing here?" asked Polanetzki.

" Well, whenever something disagreeable befalls me, I
don't (line at home," returned Plavitski, ''so as not to
grieve Marinya. I always go away — a little wing of
a capon, a spoonful of dessert — that's all that I need.
Be seated, if you don't seek gayer company."

" What has happened?" demanded Polanetzki.

'• What I always claim : old traditions perish."
Well, this is not such an overwlielming cahimity to

((

you

»)

Plavitski cast at him a sad but also ti'iumphant look.

*' To-dav, the will was made public."

'•Well," what of that?"

"What? They now say throughout Waisaw, 'she
remembci'ed her remotest ridatives.' Well, did she
remember ? To Marinya she left, do you know how much ?

An annuity of four hundred roubles. Millionaire! . . . In
sucli a manner servants are : uembered, but not a rela-
tion."

*'And how much to you?"

" Not a kopeck. She left to lier manager fifteen thou-
sand, but about me not a syllable I . . . Yes, sir, traditions
perish. In times past how many enriched tliemselves by
bequests! And why? Because solidarity reigned among
relatives."

But I know of some who inlierited big sums."
Yes, there are some lucky fellows, but I don't belong
to that number."

Phivitski leaned against the table and gave utterance to
the following soliloquy :

*' Always and every where, somewhere. . . to somebody
. . . someone . . . and something."

He sighed deeply and rejoined :

"And to me, never . . . nowhei'e . . . nobody . . .
nothing."

A wicked and foolish fancy occurred to Polanetzki ; he
made nse of it to cheer up Plavitski.

Well, she died in Rome, and the testament was made
out here and long ago. I heard there was another will ex-
ecuted before this, and, who knows, perhaps we will get
from Rome another testament by which you will suddenly
become a millionaire."

Plavitski hopelessly shook his head.

Nevertheless those words enlivened him somewhat. He
began to fidget iji the cluiir as if he sat on needles-, and, at
last, exclaimed :

* You think it is possible ? "
I see nothing impossible in that," returned Polanetzki
with a roguish smile.

'' If Heaven willed it."

" Everytliing is possible."

Plavitski looked anxiously about him. Finding nobody
else in the room, he abrui)tly pushed away the chair and
pointing to his breast, exclaimed :

" Come to me, my boy I . . . Let me embrace you ! . .

Polanetzki bent his head, which he kissed twice. Ht
then touehingly jsaid :

•.., '^^ i lis

240

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" You encourage me, my tL;ir. Let it be as Heaven
wishes it. Now I confess tliat I had written to lier
certainly, to remind lier of myself. Of couise, tlie letter
was written under a reasonable pretext. I inquired, when
tlie lease of one of her estates terminated. You understand,
that I had no intention of renting it. . . Thank'ee !
You support and encourage me ! Tliis testament miglit
liave been written before the receii)t of my letter; then
she went to lionie, may have thougl).' about it and us on
her way. Now you say there might be another will. . .
Thank'ee ! May God's blessing descend upon you ! "

In u moment he beamed witli joy; suddenly clapping
Pohmetzki on the knee and smacking his tongue, he said:

" Do you know what, boy ? Perhaps you really told
the truth at a lucky moment. Why not have a bottle of
*' Mou ton-Rothschild " on account of the coming legacy ? "

"No, I can't," returned Pohmetzki, who felt some com-
punction for this roguish trick. ''■ Really, I cannot and
will not."

** You must."

" Upon my honor, T cannot. I have some business to
attend to and would not, therefore, cloud my head."

"You are a stubborn brick, upon my word. I'll myself
drink in honor of the hap2)y day."

lie ordered the wine.

" What work liave you got there ? "

" Various matters. After dinner I must see Professor
Vaskovski."

" What kind of a biid is Vaskovski ? "

" He also has received an inheritance from his brother,
a mine owner. It was a considerable sum. . . Iledistri-
bntes it among the poor."

" Distributes all, and himself in these restaurants. . . I
love such philanthropists! If T had anything to give
away, I would renounce everything."

"He was ill a long time, and the attending physician
advised him to partake of the best food. But in the res-
taurants he orders only cheap dishes. He lives in a cell
and raises chickens. There are two large rooms adjacent
to his cell, and do you know who lives in them?. . .
Children that he picks up on the streets.

241

. . I

give

** It appeared to me from l>eginiiincf tliat lie was a
little. . ." and lie pointed to liis roiilitNul.

Polaiietzki did not find V^iskovski in. lie e.'iUed on
]\Iasldv(), and about live o'eloek went to set* Marinya. He
was veXL'd wiili ihci snggestiou he made to Plavitski.
"Now tlie old man will drink ex[)ensive wines on ae-
eoiint of the coming rlelies," — he ihonght. '•'• They have
lived long enough beyond their means. There must be an
end to it."

He found Marinya with her hat on ; she was going to
the Bigels'.

" I eongm'Ailate you on your inheritance," he said.

"Indeed, 1 am very glad. It is something tangible,
and with our present means this is important. Beiiides, I
want to be very rich."

"Why?"

"You once expressed a wish to possess sufTicient money
wherewith to o[)en a factory and give U[) the commer-
cial tirm. I kept it in mind, and now I want to be
rich."

It occurred to her that she said too much and spoke too
clearly ; the thought suffused her cheek with a blush,
and to hide it she began to smooth the folds in her
dress.

"I came once more to excuse mvself. . . At dinner to-
day, among other absurd things I mentioned toyour father
the i)robability that Plo.^hovska might have changed the
will and left to him the whole estate. Unfortuiiiitely, he
took it seriously. I (^on't like the idea of his laboring
under such an impression. With your leave, I will goto
him now and endeavor in some manner to di&sipate his
hopes."

Marinya laughed heartily.

'"I have ex})lained to him already, hut he only scolded
me. Now you see what you have done. Yes, indeed, you
must l)eg our ])ardon."

"And I do."

Polaiietzki gras])ed her hand and covered it with kisses.
She did not take it away, and, somewhat agitated, she re-
peated smilingly :

"Wicked Pan Stach, wicked Pan Stach I "

i I'

' Mi

! Hill

i 'iv

242

During the wliole evening, Polanetzki felt the warmth
of Marinya's hand. Mashko, Goutovski, everything, waa
plunged into oblivion.

" Yes, it is high time to decide I " he murmuied again
aud agaiu.

; ,it;;

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243

CHAPTER VI.

Krasovrki with a doctor and a brace of pistols were in
one carriage, Polanetzki and Mashko in another. They
rode in the direction of Byelyani. The day was clear and
frosty with a rosy mist near the ground. The wheels
creaked on the frozen snow, the horses fumed and were
covered with frost, and hoar-frosted boughs hung down
from the trees.

"This is weather for you," grumbled Mashko. "The
fingers will freeze to the triggers."

** And it will be so comfortable without the fur-
coats."

** Well, then, have the kindness to dispatch everything
as quickly as possible. Tell Krasovski not to dally."

Mashko wiped his glasses and added, " the sun will rise
before we get there, and the snow will glitter."

" Well, it will soon come to an end," returned Polanet-
zki. " Since Krasovski is in time, we will not liave to
wait for the others ; they are early j'isers."

" Do you know what is in my mind now ? I think of
our helplessness against human folly ; this latter is a
powerful factor. Let us suppose I am not Mashko with
his puny interests, but a man ten times as wise, a great
statesman, a Bismarck, a Cavour. Fancy me working out
a gi'eat plan destined to change the face of the world. I
need money to realize it, and theoretically I have prepared
the ground. Everything is calculated, foreseen ; appar-
ently no possibility of a hitch. Suddenly a jackass comes
along, and the whole edifice tuml)les. It's outrageous !
I am not bothered with the tliought whether I will be
shot or not, but he has spoiled the work of my life."

" Well, who could foresee I It is the same as if a cornice
suddenly fell on your head while 3'ou were peacefully
taking a stroll. It is possible."

244

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',-1

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.. 1

Just on that account I cannot smother nly rage when

»>

thinking of this affair

'' Well, there is slight danger of your being killed
Masliko wiped again his glasses and continued :
" I am conscious, my dear, that since our departure from
home you have been studiously scrutinizing nie. You
wish to encourage me. That is natural. For my paiL
I can assure you tliat I will not disgrace you. It's
natural that I should be excited, and do you know wliy ?
To slioot one another — this is nonsense — mere fun. Give
us pistols and let us get in the forest. I could shoot at
that fool for half a day, also stand his aim. I have had
some ex[)erience. I liave been in duels before this, and I
know what it means. What annoys me most is the whc-e
farce of preparations, witnesses, the thought that you will
be stared at, and ilie fear, whether vanquislied or victor-
ious, how youll behave. This is a public debut, pure and
simple, the verdict of the fate your own vanity. For
nervous natures tliis is a coni})lete revolution. Fortu-
nately I am not very nervous and understand that I pos-
sess all the adviintages over my opponent, because I am
more accustomed to people and tlieir traits than he is.
Sucli an ass as he undoubtedly is, can scarcely imagine, I
trow, liow he would look as a corpse, how he would decay,
etc. I am certain to be cooler than my antagonist. . . . Be-
sides, in such cases one must rcmend)er, that philosophy is
philosopliy, but tlie question of life is not decided by tem-
perament and passion. A duel never decides anything,
never saves an^-thing, it only adds to the volume of tribula-
tions. Nevertlieless I cannot deny myself the pleasure. . . .
In my heart there is accumulated so mucli hatred for that
ass, that I am ready to crush liim, to destroy him, etc. I
know not myself wlwit else to do with him. Rest assured
that as soon as I beliold his face, I will forget my restless-
ness, this farce and everything else. I have eyes for him
alone."

"Tliis is self-evident," said Polanetzki.
Mas]d\o's face, from the severe cold, became blue and
even black whicligave it an expression of extreme wicked-
ness, and made him look uglier tlian he was.

At last they arrived at the place of meeting. At the

245

same time they heard the creaking of the wheels of the
carriage that brought Goutovski, Yamish and Yilkovski,
who greeted the opponents; then all seven, inchuling the
physician, went to the most secluded spot ol' the loiest,
selected as the meeting place by Krasovski.

The drivers, watching the men making their way
through the snow, winked to eacli other signilicanlly.

" Do you know what's going to take place heie ? "
asked one."

*' Nothing new, my lad. I've been here before," replied
the other.

" Tlie fools ! . . . They're going to shoot one another."

Meanwhile the duelists, with their seconds, scarcely
able to drag their feet through the deep snow, slowly ap-
proached the selected spot. On tlie way Pan Yiniish, con-
trary to the rules of duels^approaelied Polanet/^i and said:
*' I would like to induce Goutovzki to apologize before
Mashko, but in this case, it's impossible.

"• I have also prevailed upon Masliko to alter the tone
of what he had written, but ho stubbornly declined."

" Nothing can be done. Though it is all ridiculous
there's no escape."

Polanetzki was silent, and they walked on. l^nt Yam-
isli remarked again : "• I've heard that Marinya Plavitski
was mentioned in tlie will. A snug sum ? "

" No, a very insignificant one."

''And the old man?"

"Notliing, and he is in a white rage, because the whole
estate was not willed to liim."

" Oil ! there's sometliing wrong with him." He looked
around liim.

" Why are we going so fur? " asked he.

"We will ])e there presentl}."

Th»»y walked on, llie siui rose over tlie undeibrush, tlie
blue shadows of the trees wci'C I'csting on the snow, and a
dim light broke through tlie forest. Hidden in the tn[)S
of the trees, the awakening crows shook the snow from
their feathei's, but not a crv, not a voice, broke the pro-
found silence, save now and then fiom the men who were
on a bloody mission. At last they halted at the farthest
end of the forest. The opponents listened to the brief

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speech of Yamish, who declared tliat a bad peace was better
than a good quarrel. Then Krasovski loaded the pistols.
The opponents selected each his own weapon, cast off their
heavy fur coats and took their positions, one facing the
other. Goutovski breathed heavily. His face was red,
his moustache wet and freezing. From his whole manner
one could judge that he acted unwillingly, that he was
prompted by the sense of shame, that, had he followed his
own inclination and desire, he would have attacked his
antagonist with the butt of his pistol or with liis bare fist.
Mashko who previously pretended not to see him, began to
look at him, with hatred, malice and contempt. He con-
trolled himself more than did Goutovski, and, clad in his
surtout, with a high hat, and long flowing side-whiskers
looked the very image of an actor rehearsing a duel scene
on the stage.

*' Mashko will shoot down th( * little bear ' like a puppy,"
thought Polanetzki.

At this moment the command to fire was given, and
two shots rang through the air. Mashko turned to
Krasovski, and said coldly :

** Reload the pistols!'*

At the same time a pool of blood formed around one of
his legs.

" You are wounded,'* announced the physician, ap-
proaching him.

" May be . . . reload the pistols."

But at the same instant his whole body swayed ; he was
wounded, indeed the bullet had torn away a piece of his
knee-cap. Tlie duel was declared at an end. Goutovski
remained in the same position, with bulging eyes, seem-
ingly astonished at the result. And, after the physician
had hnished his examination of the wound, he wont for-
ward to tlie wounded man. He was puslied by Yamish,
and evidently sincere, he said in a stammering voice: " I
confess now that I liad no ground whatever on which to
base my accusations. I take back my words, and humbly
beg your pardon, and, if I wounded you, it was acci-
dental."

A minute later he disappeared with Yamish and
Vilkovski.

247

*»

and

" Truly and honestly," protested Goutovski, " it was &
mere accident. Such pistols ! 1 believe 1 intended to
aim above his head."

All through that day Mashko uttered not a word, and
to the question of the physician, whether the knee pained
him much, negatively shook his head.

Bigel, who returned the same day from Prussia, liis
pockets filled with contracts, said to Polanetski, on learn-
ing of the occurrence :

" Mashko is undoubtedly an intelligent man, yet, upon
my word, there seems to be something lacking in the head
of each and every one of us. Take him for instance. He
is a capable man, has his hands full of various i)aying
transactions, and a small fortune would surely have been
his, had he striven for it ; but he jumps and runs in all di-
rections, piles up debts, buys estates, plays tlie nobleman,
a lord, forsooth, and wants to be somebody, but not what
he is in reality. Of course, all this fails to connect, and
puzzles me the more, because it is so vulgar, so common-
place. I often think that life, for its own sake, is a very good
thing to stick to after all ; but we cripple it ourselves,
owing to tlie lack of equilibrium in our heads, to the pos-
session of a diabolic phantasy, and an aching void of gray
matter in the right places. T understand the common
desire to have more than we have, but why strive for it
in an unnatural way? I recognize in Mashko shrewdness,
ability, energy, but, taking all things into consideration, I
believe tliere is something wrong with him — liere."

And Bigel pointed several times, with his finger, to his
forehead.

Meanwliile Mashko suffered, and, though his wound pre-
sented no genuine danger, it caused intense pain. In the
evening he twice fainted in the presence of Polanetzki,
then lie collapsed conq)letely. His j^ride and vanity, that
had buoyed his spirits during the day, brt)ke down, and
after a second examination by the physician, he said :
'* Sut'h is my luck! "

*'Do not think of it," advised Polanetszi, " or fever may
set in and add to your misery."

But Mashko continued :

**lnbulted, wounded, annihilated — all at once.'*

4 i

248

n\ : • ■ .

Mlh

1|il

"I repeat, do not ez^ite yourself. This is not the time
for such thoughts."

Mashko, raising lialf-way in bed, leaned with his elbow
on tlie pillow, groaned with pai" and added; ''Let nie
speak ! This is the last time 1 may have the audacity to
speak to a respectable man. In a week oi' two, I will
belong to the class of men who are carefully avoided.
I am ruined, and e\evy fool may any : ' I knew it, I fore-
saw it, I told you so ! ' Yes, they all knew it. Tliey all
see it, when it happens. When misfortune strikes a man
then they make of that unfortunate, a fool or an imbecile."

Polanetzki recalled the words of Bigel, and Mashko, who
seemed to divine his thouglit, continued:

" You think, probably, tliat I did not consider what I
was doing, tliat I puslied myself into places I bad no
business to, tliat I wislied to dim)) liigh, that 1 held my head
too high. No one would ever daie to tell me that, but I
thought of it myself, and frequently si)oke of it. But at
the same time I thought that it was best to act in that
manner, that it was the only wa}^ to reach the desired
goal; and wdiat if the result did prove disastrous? Per-
haps life itself went wrong. And yet if it had not been
for this unfortunate, unforeseen scandal, she would have
been mine just because I was such a man. Had 1 been
more modest, I could never liave won Panna Kraslovska.
In our circles hypocrisy is tlie best ^Acapon, after all. and
if I perish, the fault is not mine, that fool is to blame I"

"Buc you don't know yet that your marriage will not
take ])lace?''

'M)h, my friend, you don't know these women. For

k of souiethlng better, they agreed to swallow
Mashko, because his affairs went smoothly. And if
my position, m}'' fortune, my wealth, is threatened b}'
one stain, ever so small or suspicious, they will cast me
aside without mercy, and then will lier.p on n>e moun-
tains of malice and mischief, in order to defend tlieir own
names from the t^)ngues of g(^ssi[)s. You don't know
them. A Kriislovska is not a Plavitski I"

For a moment silence ensued, after mIucIi Mashko con-
tinued, in a weaker voice :

"The latter could hiive lieen niv salvation. Willi liei

249

at my side, I might luivc li.iveled on another road, more
solid, more peaceful. Under tliose circumstances, Kremen
also could have been saved, lioth tlie debt and the annu-
ity would have been canceled and I would have ci'awled
out on dry ground. Hut I fell in love with lier like a
school-boy. 1 really didn't know why it was, but she pre-
ferred to pout and fret at you, than love me. I understand
it all now."

This turn of the conversation did not please Pola-
netzki ; he impatiently interrupted him : " I am surprised
that you, usually so energetic, should consider the battle
lost, when there's nothing visible to that effect. Panna
Plavitski sank into the past, over whicli you yourself
built a cross, by becoming the liancd of Kraslovska. As
to your present condition, you certainly have been in-
sulted, disgraced, but you wi[)ed that stain away by the
duel. You are wounded, but will be well atjfain in a
week. Finally, the Kraslovskas have not told you that they
were going to end their relations Avith you, and as long as
you know nothing to that effect, you cannot allude to it
as an accom[)lish(Hl fact. You are sick and under tlie
weather, \n\.t this is no excuse for reading mass over your
own corpse. I have a bit of advice for you. These ladies
must be visited and iuformiHl of tlie affair, and, if you
wish it, I will call upon them to-morrow. Let them act
afterward as they think best, but they shall learn the
whole truth from tlie lips of an actual witness of the
atfaii', and not through the medium of gossi[)-mongers."

Mashko was thoughtful for sometime, then said : ''I
had intended to wiite to my ])etrothed, but if you are
going to see lier personall}-, it will be mu{;h better.
Though I entertain no liope that she will keep her ])r()m-
ise, 1 will do eveiything that I possibly can. T thaidc
you. You will know how to jilead for me. . . . But not
a woi'd about my fears. . . . Make the sale of the tind)er
a mere trille, a courtesy which I wished to accord to you.
. . . Thank you most sincerely. . . Tell them that
Goutovski apologized."

'" Have you anv one to nurse 3'ou, to sit at your bed-
side?"

** The valet and his wife. The physician promised to

■i .

2.'.()

^'.:,

>'■ :,

;i4i5!

•i

:1W|

" mt i

!■»♦

bring with him a trained nurse. Though the pain is
acute, I am not veiy uncomfortable, after all."

" And so, au revoiry

'''• Au revoir. Thank you for the visit."

" Sleep well ! "

On the way home Polanetzki thought of Masliko not with-
out bitterness. " That scamp is not a romantic fool by any
means, and yet he deenuid himself in duty bound to pretend
to be one or something- of the sort. . . . He loved Panna
Plavitski for the ojjportunity it would have given him
to branch out into a new and wider road, because, in fact,
in her there was salvation from threatening ruin and dis-
aster. This was tribute that he i)aid to sentiment, and it was
tendered in counterfeit coin, for within a month he pro-
posed to another, smitten by the charm of her money. It
may be that I am stupid, that I do not understand, nor
have any confidence in the sincerity of people, wlio so
easily find consolation. To be in love with one and to
marry another within a month — I could not have done
that, not for the world. However, he is right in his
assertion that Marinya is not Kraslovska. There can be
no comparison . . . such a wide contrast ! "

This thought pleased his vanity.

When he reached home he found on his desk a letter
from Bukatzki, written from Italy, and a note from
Marinya, full of inquiries about the duel. She begged to
be informed the following morning of the results ; of the
wrangle that caused it, and whether Mashko was in
in danger. Polanetzki, still under the spell of the thought
that Marinya \\as superior to Kraslovska, penned a very
cordial iei)ly, ami handing it to the servant, ordered him
to deliver the messaore at about nine o'clock in the morn-
ing. Then he opened Bukatzki's letter, and while reading
it, shrucfo'cd his slioulders. Bukatzki wrote :

"' Ma}' the divine Sakya-Muni procure for you a blessed
nothingness! Besides this, pray tell Ka[)laner not to send
me at Florence the three tliousand i-oubles due me ; let him
keep the money until further notice. Some of these days I
shall decide to thiidv (note what determination there is in
the ex[)i'ession itself) of my intention to remain a vegetarian.
If the thought will bring no exhaustion of vital forces,

2r>i

paiu is

ot with-
by iiiiy
pretend
Paniia
n him
n fact,
lul dis-
it was
le pro-
sy. It
d, nor
vho so
and to
e done
in ]iis
an be

letter
from
?ed to
of tlie
as ill
ouglit
I verv
■ iiim
morn-
idincr

essod
send
^ liim
!iys I
is in
rian.
rces,

if my intention shall become an established rule, and this
rule void of un[)k'a. iit after-effects, 1 will cease to be a
carnivorous anima^ and my living expenses will be re-
duced accordingl}'. This is tlie whole story in a nutshell.
As to yourself, 1 would advise you to calm down; life is
really not wortli laboring for.

" Do you know, long ago I came to the conclusion tliat the
Slavs as a nation prefer synthesis to analysis. Because
they are laggards, — and analysis is a troublesome occupa-
tion. Synthesis is, on the contiary, a very agreeable pas-
time, after dinner, when one, witli a cigar in his mouth, is
bent on killing time. And they do well, these idlers. It's
very warm now in Florence, especially at Long-Arno. I
am vaiying my promenades with synthesis of the Floren-
tine school. I formed the acquaintance lately of an
aquarillist, himself a Slav, whose soul is wrapt up in his art,
who argues that art is a piece of lioggishness, the fruit of
the provincial conmionplace desire for luxuries, of the
abundance of money tliat cro.'ites everything. In a word,
art, in his estimation, is a rnftianism, an insult, a wrong •
He attackcul me— fiercely like a dog, and insisted that to
be a ]]uddhistand indulge in painting— was the acme of ab-
surdity. I repaid him in tlie same coin by declaring that
preferring absurdity itself to its natural consequences was
also the climax to provincial parvenue obscurantism, prej-
udice and scouiidrelism. He was stupefied for a time,
and lost his power of s[)eech. I advised him to commit
suicide by hanging, but the rogue stubl)orniy refuses. But,
tell me, my dearest, are you certain tliat the earth is really
circling round the sun, or is it all a huge joke ? Of course,
it's immaterial to me I

" Well, how's Paiini Chavastovska? People are predes-
tined to 2)erform certain parts in this world. Hers is the
part of an eiovnal sufferer and martyr. Why was she
pure and honest? Had she been otherwise, a gay life
would have been hers. As to yourself, my deiir friend,
pray grant me one favor: do not marry! lleinember,
that if you do, you will have a son, you will toil to leave
him a fortune, in short, you will spend your best years for
the exclusive pur[)ose of making your son what I am to-
day, and, though a very amiable gentleman I am per-

■4ff*«

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• .* i t

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'■Mi':'

k4:'. .

)

meated with doubtf?, and not a bit sympathetic or sensitive.
Long live audacious energy, long live the commercial
houses, commission companies, transient firms, hahitual
labor, financial scliemes, the future })aterfamilias, the edu-
cator of cliildren, and many worries and trouble I Re-
memlxjr me to Vaskovski. lie is also a synthetic. May
Sakya-Muni o[)en your eyes, that you may see and learn
that in tlie sun it's all warmth, and in the shade it's cool,
that to lie is better than to stand. Your Bukatzki."

" A regular okroshka (liasli) ! " thought Polanetzki.
" All this is artificial affectation, self-deceit, a ridiculous
extreme. But once a man becomes addicted to it, it ap-
pears natural, and Satan claims everytliing~l)rains, energy.
The soul decays like a corpse. Then one can throw him-
self into an ice-hole like Mashko or Bukatzki."

Polanetzki began to pace his room and look at tlie por-
trait of Lida, smiling to him from beyond the birches.
Tlie desire to draw his own accounts and measure his own
worth seized him, and grew stronger and stronger. As a
merchant he began with the ins[)ection of his "debit "and
"credit". The space allotted for special paragraphs of
liis life was in former da3^s occupied by his love for Lida.
In those days she was so dear to him, that had he been
told: "adopt her as your own child," he would not have
hesitated a moment. He would have considered her his
propert}^ which made life worth living. But now these
relations were changed, become a mere recollection, and
from the i)aragraph of " happiness " were transferred to the
paragraph of ''misfortune." What was left? First, life
itself. Second, a mental dilettanteism, which however it
might be construed, serves as a luxury. Third, a curicnisly
interesting future ; then material benefit, and, finally, the
commercial house. It all had its value, but Polanetzki
found room for improvement in everything. He was pleased
by the stability and success of his firm, but not by the occu-
pation it afforded him. On the contrary, the character of
these transactions failed to satisfy him, it betrayed nanow-
ness, and angered him. On the other side, the mental dilet-
tanteism, the books, the scientific world — it all had its
specific value as an ornament of life, but could not aspire
to become its foundation or its supporting pillar.

2:>3

IS own
As a

b " and

phs of
Lida.
been
have

ler his
these
and
o the
,life
ver it
(Misly
V, the
etzki
eased
occu-
:er of
rrow-
dilet-
d its
ispire

*' Bukatzki," pondered Tviianetzki, "sank into that
mire to his very ears, lie wished to live in it, but he was
put out of joint, weakened, withered. The flowers aie in
themselves very good, but if one were to breathe their
aroma, exclusively, he would be sure to i)oison himself."

And indeed, one need not be very wise to reeognize
men, weakened, disiieartened, whose spiritual health was as
mueli ruined by dilettanteism, as morphine is ca})able of
wiecking one's physieal health. He was mui;h injured by
it himself — it made him a ske})lie. From this grave
disease he was saved by a healtny organism, that felt
the necessity of an outlet in energy and incessant labor.

But lic)w alM)nt the future? If tlie work in the c()n>
niercial firm was not suHieient to fill tlie void in his life,
and it were dangerous to fill it with dilettanteism, then
another antidote must be found for the germ of ennui, to
him another new w(^rld must be created, a new horizon
o[)ened, and for all this there remained but one way —
marriacfe.

In former days when the same thought tormented him,
he saw an indefinite form, combining in itself all the
physieal and moral qualities and virtues, — a mere figure,
nameless, phantom-like. Now this figure was quite dis-
tinct: she had blue eyes, auburn hair, a somewhat broad
mouth, and styled herself Marinya Plavitski. No other
woman was thought of, she seemed to Polanetzki so real,
his imagination of her was so vivid, that the veins on his
temples pulsated more rapidly. He was conscious that
there was soniething amiss in his present feelings toward
Marinya, that something was wanted that craves for
iiolliing, but hopes for the best, that fears, trend)les, kneels
bc'fore the beloved woman and whispers: '"everything to
your feet ;" that out of love consisting of desires, makes a
cult based in its turn on adoration, bringing a ceitain
mystic coloring into tlie relations of man to woman, which
makes of man not only a lover, but also a follower. All
this Hashed through Polanetzki's mind as he thought>*l
Marinya, and his thoughts of her wei'e quite sober and eW'n
bold. He understood that it Avas lunv within his ])owei\to
ai)proach her, to woo her, and take possession of h(;r, andlf
he does the latter it will be for two reasons, first because

if\'i

iir,4

.!,■
, t..

lii

it ^■

^4J

Marinya is to him more attiactive than all other women
he knew; second, if marry he must, she will be his wife.

*' She," thought he, " is a positive girl. There is nothing
dry, faded, moldy in her natuie. Egotism has not succeed-
ed in consuming her heart, and slie will not he wrapt
wholly in her own self. She is honesty personified. If
prudence advises marriage, I will be stupid, indeed, to
look for another."

After which came the question: "Will he not be
dishonest by leaving Marinya to her fate?" Lida united
them, and at the mere recollection of this, a feeling in his
heart he could not define demanded the fulfilment of her
will. Had he wished to o[)[)ose this Avill, he had no moral
right to visit the Plavitskis after Lida's death, to see
Marinya, to kiss her hands, to let himself be carried away
by that feeling, which perhaps owing to the chain of cir-
cumstances, carried him so far that a retreat now would
imperil his reputation in the eyes of jNIarinya, and expose
liim as a man who knew not what lie wanted. Only a
blind man could possibly be unconscious of the fact that
Marinya considered herself a bride, and if she was not
alarmed by his silence, it was only because they both wore
mourning.

*' And so, from a moral point of view, I must marry
her," said he to himself, — " from the i)oint of self-preserv-
ing instinct — I ouglit to do so; common-sense dictates the
same, — honesty, ditto. And then, what? The name of
scoundrel were just if a[)})lied to me, had I deliberately
dodged and delayed with the solution of this serious
question. Enough ! It's settled ! "

Polanetzki sighed, and again paced his room. On the
table, the light of the lamp fully on it, lay Bukatzki's
letter.

Polanetzki took it and began to read from the line

"Do not marry! Remember, that if you do you will
have a son ; you will toil to leave him a fortune, in short,
you will s})end your best years for the exclusive purpose of
making your son what I am to-day." . .

" Well, my dear, — you're joking ! thought Pola-
netzki." I will marry, and JMarinya Plavitski shall be
my wife. Do you hear me ? I will hoard money, save a

0--

fortune, and if I have a son. I shall not make of him a
failure — do you understand ? "

And lie was content with liiniself.

Tlien lie giized again at Lida's portrait and suddenly
heeanie deei)ly excited. A wave of pity rushed to his
heart, and he hegan to speak to the child, as people
usually do in grave matters to dear loved ones, even if
they're dead.

'' You ai'e satisfied with me, pussy, are you not ? "
inquired he.

She smiled to him from beyond the birches, as though,
re})lying : " Yes, Pan Stacli, yes ! "

Tears were in Polanetzki's eyes.

The same evening before going to bed, Polanetzki took
from the servant the letter intended for Marinya, and
wrote another, more affectionate :

"My Dearest — Goutovzki insulted Masliko, and a
duel was the result. Mashko is slightly wounded. Gou-
tovzki apologized on the spot. No further consequences
are expected, except, perhaps, that I had another chance
to convince myself of youi' kindness, and to-morrow, if
you'll permit me, I will come to thank you and kiss your
dear little hands. I will come in the afternoon, because
in the morning I shall call on Panna Kraslovska, and then
bid farewell to Vaskovski ; although, if it were possible, I
would my day were not begun with them.

" Polanetzki."

«4/

He sealed the letter, looked at his watch, and though
it \yas already eleven o'clock, he ordered his servant to
carry the message to Plavitski at once.

"You will seek admission through the kitchen," he in-
structed the servant, " and if the young lady has retired,
leave the letter there."

Once more left alone, he said to himself aloud :

" She will be a very poor hand at guesuing not to divine
the object of my coming to-morrow,"

'ii

i:.3(3

"1"

CHAPTER VII.

;5,-'

It; '.

11 '1^

1 .-!'■

•V

'.I'l'

Panni Khaslovska was amazed at Polanetzki's early
visit. However, she leeeivetl liini, having made up lier
mind that he was uri,^^! to this unusual eall hy some
matter of ofruve ini[)()rlance. Pohiiielzki duhiyed not,
but approached at onee the object of his call, related the
incidents of the duel, liidino- the truth whenever it was
necessary for the defense of iMashko, and the allaying of
sus[)icions regarding his alleged bankruptcy. He noticed
that during his narrative the old lady stared at him with
her green, coloiless eyvi^^ and not a muscle of her face
twitched. When iie linished, she lemarked :

*' Fj'om all that you have just said, I fail to understand
one tiling: why did iMashko sell tlie oaks which adorn
the residence?"

" These oaks are quite a distance from the estate," re-
plied Polanetzki, '' and injure the field. Owing to the
shade nothing will grow thereon. And Mashko is a prac-
tical man. In addition, we are old friends, and the sale
was a courtes}'. You know that I am a merchant; I fre-
quently have a demand for oak timber, and Mashko had
been considerate enough to let me have that small square
of oak forest."

" Then, on what grounds did that young man insult
him?"

" If you are acquainted with Pan Yamish," interrupted
Polanetzki, "he, being a neighbor of both Kremen and
Yal:''ijikow, will tell you that this young man suffers from
a remarkable lack of brains. This is known to ^.he entire
village."

" Then Mashko had no right to fight him."

" Pardon me, madam," replied Polanetzki, some^A'hat
impatient. "In such cases men have different ideas."

*' Will you permit me to speak to my daughter ? "

2o<

4.- .

i's early
up her
)y some
lhI not,
ited tlie
r it was
tying of
noticed
ini with
ler face

lerstand
li adorn

ite," re-

to tlie

a prac-

lu; sale

; I fre-

ko liad

square

insult

erupted
en and
rs from
entire

newhat

las."

Polanetzki thoui^ht tliat it was time for him to leave, hut
as he had come to the Kraslovskas, not as a friend, hut as a
messenger of Mashko, anxious to hring liim back some
favoiahle news, he said, after a pause :

"Jf you have any word you wisli to send to Mashko, I
am going to him when 1 leave here."

'• One second, please. I will at once "

She went awav. Polanetzki remained alone and waited
long — so long, in fact, tliat he began to lose patience. At
last both ladies made their ai)pearance.

'Jlie girl was dressed in a blouse of navy blue, her liair
betraying haste. However, she seemed to Polanetzki
quite attractive, notwithstanding her inflamed eyes and
rough forehead, uns})aringly powdered. There was a
certain charm in her face which did not betray the least
emotion.

After the customary greetings were exchanged, she
spoke in a very cold, calm voice :

''Pray be kind enough to tell Pan Mashko that I was
awfully frightened and distressed. Is it true that the
wound is slight?"

"Absolutely."

" Tell him that I have persuaded Mamma to go ai. I
take care of him. I will escort her every day, and wait out-
side in the carriage until she brings me a re})ort of the
state of his health. I will do it daily until he is well and
up again. jMamma is so kind, she will consent to this.
Tell him that."

For the first time, on her pale, bloodless face appeared a
scarcely vi^'ible flush. Polanetzki hardly expected to hear
such words from her, and they astonished him. She
seemed to him much prettier now, and when, a moment
later, he was on his way to Mashko, he thought:

''Women are frequently much better than they seem to
he at first. These two are like bottles of frozen water ; and
yet, the girl has a heart. Mashko made no study of her.
lie will make a pleasant discovery some day. The old
lady will come to his bachelor ai)artment, will see his pre-
lates and castellans, witii their crooked noses, over which
Bukatzki made merry, and will be conquered by the
majesty and grandeur of Mashko and his ancestry."

258

< ■ ■ ,

il^H '

¥1

At Mashko's house he was compelled to wait ; the phy-
sician was dressing the wound. As soon as the latter de-
parted, Mashko impatiently called his friend to him, and
without the formality of a greeting, anxiously inquired :

" Well, have you bee . there ? "

" How are you ? Did you sleep well ? "

*' Yes, quite well, but this is not important now. Have
you been there ? "

" I have, and will make a short story of it : In about a
quarter of an hour you will be made happy by the visit of
the older Kraslovska, who is henceforth going to nurse
you back to healtli. The younger requested me to tell
you that she will accompany her mother every day and
wait in the carriage for iier motlier's report. She begged
me to tell you, furthermore, that she was frightened, that
she is very unhappy, but thanks the Lord tliat you are
out of danger. You see, Mashko ! And I will add, that
she is not at all bad-looking ... so winsome . . . well
now I must be going . . . my time is limited."

" Wait a moment .... I have no fever, and if you say
this, fearing that "

" Oh, how dull you are ! " interrupted Polanetzki.
*' Upon my word of honor 1 spoke the truth, and you are
hasty in condemning your bride."

Mashko dropped his head on the pillow, lay there silent
for a few minutes, and then uttered, as if to himself: '* I
am indeed, almost ready to love her. . ."

"Excellent! Well, good-by. . . I am going to see
Vaskovski off."

But instead of V.askovski, he went to the Plavitskis',
whom, however, he found not in. Plavitski spent very
little of his time at liome.

Marinya, the servant declared, had gone out an hour
ago. Usuall}^ when one is going to see his beloved,
and on the way meditates and considers what to say
to lier, and finally comes there only to find lier gone,
his face assumes a very stupid expression indeed. This
liappened to Polanetzki. However, he went inco a flower
store and bought a large bouquet of flowers, which he sent
to Marinya. The thought, whab joy she will evince at the
sight of them, how impatiently she will wait for him in the

259

evening, gave him infinite i)le;isure. He lunched in a
near-by restaurant, and went to Vaskovski in the gayest
of humors.

" I came to bid you farewell, professor," said Polanetzki,
'*when are you leaving us?"

*' Oh — how do you do ! . . . I was compelled to post-
pone my journey for several days, because, you see, I have
several boys living with me."

" Gamins that in their leisure moments busy themselves
with pilfering from pockets ? "

" No, these are all good boys, but they cannot })e left
without attendance. I had to find a man to take my
place and live in my present lodgings."

"A man who will roast himself alive here. . . I do
not understand how you can endure this temperature?"

"I an\ sitting in my shirt-sleeves, and allow me to keep
my coat off. True, it is somewhat warm here, but this is
healthy ; besides, it agrees with my feathery friends."

Pohuietzki examined the room, in which there were not
less than a dozen and a half of various kinds of birds, not
to mention the sparrows, who, evidently trained to eat
from the hand, looked through the window. Vaskovski
kept in his room only birds which he bought from bird-
catchers. The spaiTows had no free access to his room,
" because," declared he, " there would be altogether too
many, and thei'c would arise bad blood anioug them, if some
were to be admitted and others bai-red out." For the birds
liung in innumerable cages on the walls and window-niches,
but the cages were occupied only at niglit, and in the day-
time the room was filled with tlieir noisy twitter, wliile
everything, furniture, books, and manuscripts bore tlie
marks of tlieir presence. Some of tlie l)irds more easily
tamed lighted on his head and shoulders. The lloor was
c(r»'cied with tlio shells of bird-seed. Polanetzki, who
was familiar with this scene, shruj^ired his slioulders.

" This is all very well," said he, " but that you should
al]ow tlieni to sit on your head, to dislievel your liair, to
leave their marks there .... tliis is too much . . . and
then it is warm to suffocation liere ! "

" \Va311, for this Saint Francisco D'Assis is to bhime,"
said Vaskovski, *■' from him 1 learned to love these crea-

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tures. I have also a couple ui doves, but they are great
siini)letoiis."

PoLinetzki cliaiiged the trend of conversation. " You
will probably meet Kukatzki there," said he, I rev eived a
letter from liini. Here it is."

*'May I read it?"

"I brought it here for that pur})Ose."

Vaskovski took tlie letter and read it. **I always
loved tiii.s ]5ukatzl:i," said he, "lie is a good, generous
hid, but tliei'o is sonietliing wrong with liini here." The
prof(;ssor struck his foreliead.

"'I'liis amuses nio ! " exclaimed Polanetzki. 'STust
imagine, professor, that for the last few days almost every
man I have had an opportunity to speak to, wlien com-
menting upon any of our mutual friends, invariably
pointed to his foreliead, assuring me there was something
wrong with tiiat individual's brain. An attractive society,
iiuleed ! "

" But what, if it's true ? Indeed, it is ! " said Vaskovski,
with a smile. "And do you know why? We Shivs have
too much of that restless Aryan spirit, in consequence of
which neither our mind, nor our heart, has ever been per-
fect, have never been balanced. 1 repeat, we are the
youngest of Aryans, we are more sensitive, take everything
more to our hearts, and are diligently bringing our life to
fit the practical idea. I have seen a good deal in my life,
and have observed these facts long since. And what
strange, peculiar natures! The German students, for
instance, drink, and this is not, in any shape or form,
detrimental to their work, nor does it prevent them from
becoming sobei', practical men. lUit let a Slav acquire
that habit, and he will drink himsc^lf into an early gravel
iViid so it is in everything. A (icrman will be a pessi-
mist, will write volumes on the (fuestion whether life is
or is not mere despair, and will continue to drink beer,
liiing up children, hoard money, \\ titer ilowcrs, and sleej)
under thick covers. Under similar conditions the Slav
will hang himself, or will throw himself to the dogs, lead-
ing a wild life of dissipation, license, and perish and choke
in the mire into which he voluntarily sank. I, my dear,
have seen a great many people, who, professing luve for

i>(n

the peasant, drank tlicmselves to death in the village
inns, and there ended their wretched life. We have no
measure, no limit, because with us every absorption of
new ideas is accompanied by frivolity and emptiness. Oli,
liow empty we all are ! Witli what zeal we strive to
forge our way forwaid, to be seen and admired ! Take
Bukatzki, as an example. The man is over ears in ske[)-
ticism, pessimism, liuddhism, decadentism, and God
knows what not, — he is dee[)ly sunk into everytliing,
wherein chaos reigns supreme, sunk so deeply that he is
being slowly poisoned by th.eir fumes. But do you
imagine for a moment that he does pose ? Indeed, ours
are strange natures, — sincere, sensitive, sympatlietie — uiid
at the same time fraudulent, — actor-like. When you
think of them, you want to love them, but at the same
time to laugh and to wee}>."

Polanetzki recalled his words to Marinya on his fust
visit to Kremen, when he described to her his life in
Belgium. He told her of his Belgian comrades in pessim-
ism. Tliat he took matters more to heart than they, that
it ruined his life.

" Yes, it's true," re[)lied he. " I have seen such things,
and that is why the devil will take us all I "

But Vaskovski fixed his mysterious eyes upon the
frozen pane, and added: "No, some one else will shelter
us. All this lieat of blood, tliat faculty of j'bsorbing ideas,
is only tlie great basis for that mission which Cluist pre-
destined for the Slavish race." Whereat Viiskovski
pointed to a manuscript, besmeared by tlie birds, and
mysteriously continued: "You see,! am going away
with tills. This is the li'bor of my whole life ... If
you wish, I will read "

*"'No, I have no time. It's getting late."

*' Yes, true. It's twilight. I not oidy thiidv, I am
almost certain, that the Slavish race will fullil a great
mission."

He rubbed his forehead, as if trying to recollect
" What a wonderful number three is," said he. "There
is so nnich of the mysterious in it."

" But you wanted to speak of a great mission," re-
marked Polanetzki, alarmed.

'■A if

r-3;

262

[V- ■

.X' '*

"Yes; it's closely cr/iineoted witu it. You see, we
have three worlds in Europe: The Roman, the Teutonic
or German, and the Slavish. The first two have .already
solved their respective destinies, — the last. — This is a
question of the future."

"What will it do?"

*' Social relations, rights, relations of man to man, tlie
.ife of individuals, and wliat we call private lifo — it is all
based on Christian doctrines; and though human weakness
undermined this foundation, it is still firm and safe.
We have, however, accomplislied the first half of our mis-
sion — passed the first period. There are men who think
tliat Christ'anity is at its end. No; this is not true.
Now the second period is about to begii). Christ is em-
bodied in the life of individual men, but He is not to be
found in liistory — do you understand? To bring Him
into history, to base on Him our relations, to create the
love for your fellow-men in the In'storical sense — this is
the mission which the Slavs will have to accomplish.
They are not sufficiently familiar with its scope. Their
eyes must be opened ; their attention called to this great
problem."

Polanetzki was silent, not knowing what to answer.

Vaskovski continued : " This has tortured my brain
during the whole length of my life, and to this I gave ut-
terance in this manuscript. It is the labor of a lifetime,
and therein the mission is pointed out."

" On which, in the meantime, the birds will perch,"
thought Polanetzki, " and so it will be for a long time to
come."

" And you think," said lie aloud, " that when your
work sees the light of day, then "

" No ; I am not thinking of anytliing, nor do I cherish
hopes. Though I am vain to a certain extent, yet I am
too shallow, and my mind is small. It may all be lost
like a stone cast into the water, but it will muddle the
clear water, and make circles. Maybe thei'c will be found
a leader. I know one thing: one is destined ; must come.
It will not be within their power to reject this mission,
even if they were so inclined. Human nature cannot be
be torn away from its destiny, nor alter it. What might

263

bo good in another clime, is not good for us, because God
created us lor another mission. And, finally, all our labor
is fruitless. And even you are vainly convincing yourself
that your sole aim is tt) hoartl mone}'. On the contrary,
you, too, will follow the better voice of your nature and
destiny.

" I am going there now, for I am going to marry — that
is, /will — if 1 am wanted.''

Vaskovski embraced him.

''Ah, 'tis well. God ])less j'ou ! I know that you
are doing it to comjily wWh the will of the dead child.
Do you remember tiiat J told yon the cliild would not
die before she fuliilled her mission? Ciod grant peace to
lier soul in His lieavenly kingdom, and ma}' lie bless you.
?Jarinya is a golden tieasure — not a maiden."

''Permit me to wish you a ha|)[)y eriand and the speedy
accomplishment of your mission."

"I wish you the best you wish yourself."

"What do I wish?" gaily asked Polanetzki, "about
half a dozen little missionaries?"

*'0h, you rnflian ! Well, go, go to lier. I will also
join you — go on."

Polanetzki went out into the rcreet, called a cab, and
gave the driver Plavitski's addiess. His mind was
busy composing a speech, partly sentimental, partly
sober, one befitting a positivist who found what he
souglit for, who married on the inspiration of Ids own
mind.

Ap[)arently Marinya expected liim to come much later,
for tlie rooms were not lighted, though tlie last rays of
the sun had long since disappeared beyond the mountain-
tops.

Polanetzki greeted lier warmly, kissing both her hands,
and, forgetting his speech, inquired in a hesitating, some-
what excited voice:

" You received the letter and the flowers?"

*' I es.

*' And of couise guessed why I sent tliem ?"

Marinya's heart throbbed so violently, that she found
no answer. In view of which, Polanetzki continued to
question her, excitedly and abruptly :

264

; i

. i

■ \

■\ A

r v; 1

"Are you willing to abide by the request of Lida?
Will you marry me ? "

" Yes," replied Marinya.

Now lie found himself in the same position as Marinya.
He knew that he ought to thank her, but he could fijul no
words, andonly kissed her Land. At the same time draw-
ing her nearer and nearer to himself, until he was iinally
overmastered by such a passion, that he longed to kiss lier
lips. But she turned only he.v face and he kissed only lier
hair and temples. In the twilight there was heard only
their breathing. At last, Marinya freed herself from his
embrace.

A few minutes after the servant brought a lighted lamp
into the room.

Polanetzki becoming more composed was frightened at
his own audacity and gazed in alarm at Marinya, thinking
tliat he had offended her with his conduct; and was on
the point of apologizing. But to his amazement he noticed
not a sign of annoyance on her face. Slie sat with drooped
eyes, flushed cheeks and partly disheveled hair ; it was
evident that she was confused, lost, bewildered, but filled
with the fear of a loving woman, who crossing a new
threshold, feels that she nuist bring upon it some sacri-
fice ; that she crosses it, because she wishes to, because she
loves, that she must cross it, because she recognizes the
I'iglits of man.

Polanetzki's heart filled with gratitude. It seemed to
him now that he loved lier intensely as he did before
Lida's death — once more he took her hand and pressed to
it his lips.

" I know," said he, " that I am not worthy of you, but I
will do for you all within my power."

Marinya gazed at him with moist eyes.

** If you were only ha{)py ! " was her reply.

*' Can any one help being happy with you? I was con-
scious of this from the first moment of our meeting in Kre-
men. But then, as you know, everything went wrong.
. . . I thought you were going to marry Mashko, and was
sadly disap[)ointed."

" Yea. I was very angry, a>»d I now humbly apologize
to you . . . my dear. . . . Stach. . . ,"

265

*' Only this morning Vaskovski told me, that you were
a golden treasure, not a girl," exelainied he in ecstasy, —
and 'tis true, — everybody says the same, not only gold,
hut something more precious, dearer. Very much dearer,'*

"Only perhaps a very lieavy treasure, burdensome," said
she, smiling with lier tender blue eyes."

" Well, let tliis not worry you ! I liave sufficient strength
to carry it. Now, at least, 1 have some one to live for."

" And so have I."

" Do you know that I have been here before to-
day? After my first unsuccessful visit I sent you the
clnysanthemums. After the receipt of your letter last
niglit I said to myself that you were an angel, that one must
have no heart, no mind, not to decide this question at once."

" I was exceedingly worried about tlie outcome of the
duel. But now it's all over, is it m:)t? "

" Yes, it's all over."

At this moment Pan Plavitski entered theliouse. They
heard his peculiar dry cough. Taking off his coat, and
leaving it with his cane in the hall, he opened the door,
and, seeing them together, he said :

" So you are both alone here ?"

Marinya ran to meet her father, put her hand on his
shoulder, and, receiving liis kiss on her forehead, replied :

*' Yes, papa, we're here all alone, a betrothed couple.

Plavitski made a step backward.

" How — what did you say?" asked lie.

" Like groom and bride," replied she, calmly looking
into his eyes. '•'• Stanislav is my betrothed . . . and I
am happy ... so happy ! "

Polanetzki approached father and daughter and em-
braced tlie old man.

" Yes, if you, uncle, consent to our union," explained he.

" My child I " exclaimed the old man, going with waver-
ing step to the sofa, and sitting down. . . "Allow me, I
am so agitated, but do not heed me . . and if my blessing
is wanted . . my children, I bless you from the depths
of my heart."

Aid he blessed them, tliereby becoming still more ex-
cited, forhis love for Marinya, at h-ast, was genuine. He
seemed to have lost his voice, and the young couple could

2G(j

[■ I

^!!

only hoar fragments of phrases, like . . . "some modest
corner under yo. r roof . . . toi- an old man who has
toiled his entire life . . . only child . . . orphan."

The young peo[)le quieted him, and in tlie conrse of an-
other half hour Plavitski was of merry mood. Tiien he sud-
denly i-a;)ped Poliinetzki on the shoulder, and said : '' Ah,
you rufl:an — you ! After all, it seems tliat you always
thouglit of Marinyfi while 1 des[)aired, fearing that you
did a little . . . i know."

He bent ovi ; lo i >lanetzki's ear, and whispered some-
thing, the natui . -u w^ 'ch made Polanetzki blush.

"How could you thinic of that," witli mock indio-nation,
retorted Polanetzki. " Had I been told this by any one else
bat you, I . . ."

"Well, well, well," laughed Plavitski, "there's no
smoke without lire."

The same evening, Marinya, bidding good-night to
Polanetzki, said :

" Will you grant me one little favor ? "

" What are your orders ? "

" I often thouo"lit that if we should ever become be-
trothed, tiiat we would go together to visit Lida's tomb.

"Ah, that's it!"

" I know not what people will have to say about this,"
fihe continued, " but what are they to us ? Am 1 not

right ?
"Of

course ... of course ! their opinion is of no im-
portance wliatever. I am very grateful to you for this
truly noble idea, my dearest, my — Marinya. Somehow I
always imagine that she looks at us and prays for us."

" Yes, she is our good angel."

" Good-night ! "

" Till to-morrow ! "

" Till to-morrow," echoed Polanetzki, kissing her hand,
" till day after to-morrow, till, till the wedding," added he
in a wdiisper.

" Yes," was Marinya's response.

Polanetzki's mind, as he went home that night, was a
bewildering chaos of thoughts, emotions aiul impressions,
over which reigned supreme the consciousness that some-

267

thing extraordinary liad happened, something final, de-
cisive ; that his fate was sealed, that the time of wavering,
hesitating had passed, tliat now he nuist turn over a new
leaf. This feeling enchanted him ; it contained a certain
species of intoxication, especially when he kissed the
hands, hair and temples of Marinya. This was that some-
tldnrj that was sadly wanted in his feelings. He felt that
he had found, at last, the one thing essential for perfect
happiness. I will never tire of this, never feel satiated^
thought he; this seemed to him impossible.

Marinya was as positive a girl as he was man, he could
safely build plans for his future happines. < her heart
and cliaiacter. With her, in constant, ''ss. .1 peace, he
had nothing to fear. She would tran^ ^e underfoot no
sacred principle, but consider golden, wh c \»'as gold for
him, for slie would live for him, not fo he^'self. And im-
mediately there came the natuial qUv-svion : Could he
ever find anything better ? He marveled at his former
hesitation. He felt, however, ai the same time, that the
future, which was in store for him, was such a big con-
trast, such a decisive change, that in the depth of his heart,
in some forlorn nook, tliere awoke a fear. But he
wavered not. " I am not a coward, nor a weakling," he
reassured himself. "I must advance — forward — and — I
will !"

At home he gazed once more at the portrait of
Lida, and suddenly a new world opened before him. He
thought that he might have cliildren, dear little creatures,
with light golden hair, like Lida's, and with Marinya for
their mother! At the very thought of this, his heart beat
faster, and to his feeling of exultation was added a
courage and energy he never had experienced before. He
felt and looked the picture of happiness. Accidentally,
his wandering glance fell upon Bukatzki's letter, which
he had taken out witli otlier ])apors fi-om his pocket before
going to bed. The siglit of it called fortli from the ha|)py
man such a loud, licallhv, vi":orous lauG:h,that his servant
ruslied into the room, and stop[)ed amazed on the tliresh-
hold. Polanetzki felt a desire to tell him of liis luck, but
controlled himself, and said nothing. He fell asleep toward
morning, but awoke refreshed. He dressed rapidly, and was

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208

at Ins desk earlier than usuiil, to impart the ^hid news to
Bigel. The latter embraced liim. Then phlegmatically
considered the question from all po-nts of vi'3w, and finally
said :

"Taking everytliing into consideration, I must say that
you are doing very well, very sensibly, indeed." He
pointed to the batch of pa[)ers on the table, and added:
" These contracts are all good, but your enterprise is still
better."

" Is it not true ? replied Polanetzki, not without pride.

"I will inform my wife at once, then you are at liberty
to make your way to lier ... I will take your place in
the office till your wedding, as well as during your honey-
moon."

" Very well. My first visit shall be paid to ]\Iasliko,
then with Miirinya, we will pay the next to Lida's grave."

"Yes, this debt of gratitude must be i)aid her."

Again Polanetzki almost looted a flower-store, sending
the choicest of its stock to Marinya, with ii note saying
that he would soon come himself; then hastened to Mash-
ko, who felt much better, though burning witli impatience
for the appearance of Panni Kraslovska.

Mashko heard the news of Polanetzki's betrotlial with
apparent equanimity. But as lie warmly shook his hand,
he said, not without emotion : " I know not, whether she
will be ha})py with you, but you will be, most assuredly,
with her. Women are so much superior to us, I hope
that after all that has occurred, you share the same opinion
of tlie gentler sex. I coiifess, that up to this moment I
can hardly com[)Ose myself fiom utter astonishment. Wo-
men are better and more mysterious . . . Just imagine — "

Mashko paused, undetermined.

'' Imagine what?" asked Polanetzki.

"Yes," continued Masliko, '* though you are a man of
discretion, yet you gave me so many proofs of your friend-
ship, that I will ])e candid with you. Imagine, that yes-
terday, after your de[)arture, I leceived an anonymous
letter— (you know that the noble custom of writing such
letters exists hei-eV-from which I learned that the father
of Panna Kraslovska--the husband of her mother,— is too
much alive — and feeling splendidly."

..;!

269

"Another invention." -^

*' And perhaps the truth. He is alleged to reside in
America. I was handed the letter in the presence of Panni
KrasI'vska, but I did not mention the matter to her, and
only when she examined tlie portraits on the wall, and
made annoying inquiries about my pedigree, I asked her
how long she had been a widow. She replied that she
and daughter were alone in the world for tlie last ten
years, that theirs was a sad history, upon which she did
not wish to dwell just then. Notice, she did not state
directly when her husband died.

" And what do you think of it? "

"I tliink, that if he is really among the living, he is a
man of whom it is charitable not to speak, that their his-
tory, is indeed, a sad one."

^* But this secret must also be known to others."

Tlie}'' spent moi-e than nine years abioad, and who knows ?
At any rate, this does not in the least atfect my intentions.
If Pan Kraslovska enjoys life in America and has no desire
to come back, he must possess some weighty reasons for
remaining there, therefore it matters not that lie is still
alive. On the contrary, this gives me all the reason to
hope that my wedding will take place as originally ar-
ranged, for people "who have niggers in their own wood-
pile '* are not apt to be very exacting."

"Pardon my curiosity," said Polanetzki, taking his hat,
"but I am anxious about my money. I am also interested
now in tlie fate of the Plavitskis. Are you positive that
the Kraslovskas are wealthy."

"I will be candid. I believe they have an am{)le for-
tune ; but of course, with me it's a matter of risking all
and staking everything on a blind caid. The amount of
their fortune must be considerable, for her mother fre-
quently repeated that her daughter will not be dependent
on the wealth of her prospective husband. I saw an iron
safe ; they live on a broad scale, in luxury one might say.
I know most of the usurers in Warsaw who advance money
on estates, and am almost positive that none of them has any
claim on the ladies in question. They own, as you know,
a splendid villa, adjoining that of Bigels . . . They do not
live on their capital. They i^re too shrewd for that."

270

»♦

ti •* <

^1 '■?.■;

'. »

" Then you have no idea of exact figures ?

*' I made several efforts to [)iocui'e an approximate estima-
tion of it, but, not bein*^ sure of my ground, I deemed it
best not to be too inquisitive. However, tliey dropped
several hints to the effect tliat llicir fortune reached the
200,000 roubles mark, and in the near future will exceed
that."

Polanetzki bid Masliko good-morning and speedy recov-
ery, and going to Piavitski's tliouglit . . . '' All this is mys-
terious, juggling, dark, risky. No, I prefer my Maiinya."

Half an hour Liter Polanetzki, accompanied by Marinya,
drove U[) to the cemetery. Tlie day was warm, but the
gray town looked gloomy and dirty. In the cemetery the
thawing snow fell from the trees, while from tlie top of tlie
tombs, water flowed in tiny streams and was driven by a
warm wind into the faces of Polanetzki and Marinya.
Strong gusts played havoc witn their clothing, impeding
their progress; several times they were compelled to stop
before reaching Lida's gi-ave. Here, too, everything was
wet, oozing, and bare from tlie thawing snow.

Polanetzki's mind could not at first adapt itself to the
painful conviction that the child once so beloved and
petted, now lay in that dark and damp vault.

"All this may be quite natural," thought he, *' but we
cannot become reconciled to death."

The sombre, disagreeable day increased the bitterness
of his feelings. On his former visits to the cemetery, it
seemed to him like some great " nothing " in which
vanished not only life, but with it miser}^ "something"
sleepy and lulling. To-day there was no trace of that
solemn repose, snow dropped from the stones and crosses :
midst the moist trees crows cawed. Sudden gusts of wind
carried the wet snow from the trees, which swayed and
bent low, presenting a desperate struggle amid the im-
mobile and spotless granite monuments.

Marinya finished her prayers, and said in a voice that
awoke a dull echo.

"Her soul must hover around and with us."

Polanetzki was silent. He thought that he and Marinya
were creatures of two different worlds, and then he
mentally added, that bad her assertion contained but one

271

'ft

grain of truth, all liis spiritual and mental disputes and
struj[(gles would vanish, melt away like tlie thawing snow.

"Under such circumstances/' said he to himself, " there
may exist dying, cemeteries, hut there is no death."

Marinya in the meantime decorated the j^rave with
immortelles and evergreens bought at the gate, while,
Polaiietzki tlionoht :

" III my world there is no response to anything, there
are only whirling wheels, which whirl till they fall into
an abyss."

It appeared to bin., furthermoie, that if such ideas of
death as Marinya indulged in were tlie direct source of
faith, if they were totally unknown, and suddenly revealed
to the woild b}^ a noted philosopher, as an hypothesis, this
hypothesis would have ))een acclaimed the fruit of genius,
because it gave a delinition, and answer to everything ; it
shed ample light not only upon life, but also u[)on death,
which is darkness. Humanity would kneel before such a
sage and such a scientific doctrine. On the other side, he
felt distinctly that between them there was a link, and
that link reminded him of Lida. Though the child her-
self was now fast returning to dust, yet" something" sur-
vived her, there remained certain waves of her thoughts,
waves of feelings and emotions. Is not the fact that he
became reconciled to ]\Iarinya, that they were betrothed,
that they were now at her grave, that they would soon be
U)iited in wedlock, that they will bring to tlie world
children, who will also live, love, andmulti})ly — is all this
not a wave of life that, coming from the child, -nay pass
into 1 e infinite? How then, can one bc'ieve that from a
mortal l)eing thei'C should arise and go forth an immoi-tal,
infinite \itality !ind energy? Marinya found a rejdy to
this in the simplicity of her faith, bat Pohmetzki di'l not.
And yet Marinya was riglit. Lida was amo'.g tlieni. /V
clouded, indistinct, sha[)eless idea fiiished through PoIh-
netzki's mind, that whatever a man meditates ni)on dnrn.g
his lifetime, whatever he vearns for and l<)ves, must be
a light matter — a hundred times lighter than ether, which
finally gives ])irth to a certain abstract being, self-con-
scious perhaps, eternal, or remoulded into something per-
fect, absolute and infinitely inaccessible. It seemed to

■'f.

I •

.1 .

070
w 1 ^

him that the atoms of thouglits and feelings may group
themselves into one particular unity, issuing from one
brain or heart, liave an affinity for each other, then cling
to one anotlier on tliat mysteiious ground, on which origi-
nate physical elements in order to group into a physical
unit3^ Naturally, this was not the time to ponder about
it, Init lie could not get away from tlie conviction that he
had discovered a small opening in that veil that heretofore
covered liis eyes. He could liave been mistaken, but at
that solemn moment when lie felt the picsence of Lida
with them, he surmised that her presence could be im-
agined and understood in that sense only.

Soon the bells began to ring from tlie belfiy in the
centre of the cemetery. Some one was being carried to
his last resting-plac;e. Polaiietzki offered Marinya his
arm and together they went to the gates. Marinya, whose
thought ap})arently still centered on Lida, said : "Now I
am perfectly svtre that we will be hai)py ! "

She clung closely to Polanetzki. The wind was blow-
ing so fiercely that she conld scarcely walk witliout sup-
port. A gust of wind loosened, her veil and wound it
around her fianc^''s neck. This awoke him from his
everie. He pressed lier hand to his side, feeling tliat if
love cannot make one free from death, it reconciles one to
life. In the carriage he still held Marinya's hand in his
own, and did not release it during tlie i;rip home. At
times he reofaiued his old time self-confidence at the en-
couraging thought that all the defects and fallacies to
which he was heir, would be smoothed, wiped away, by
this kind, o-enerous, loving girl. " My wife, my wife! " it
rang in his soul, and her sparkling eyes replied to that
mute exclamation of joy : '' Yes, vours, vours fori

es, yours, yours lorever

Plavitski was not at home : he liad not returned from
Ills morning jiromenade. They were again left to them-
relves. Polanetzki sat down beside Marinya, and still
undi;!' the influence of those feelings that tilled his heart
and brain on the way from the cemetery, he remaiked:
*' You said tliat Lida is still with ns — and vou were riii^ht!
Though T always returned troin the cemetery d{\jected
and di.>])irited, yet 1 do not regret our having made the

trip to-di

" We went there as if to rece've our blessing from the
one we both loved so dearly," ie[)litHl siie. ''1 carried
away tlie same im[)ressioii, and it seems t(» me t^at we are
aheadv united, or, at least, we are much closer to each
olher HOW than we were before."

'' Yes, though the past will relapse into a sad but pleas-
ant memory."

He took her hand.

" Tiien, if you believe that we sliall be happy, why
delay the blissful moment? I also hope, dearest, that
fortune is smiling on us, and therefore let us not postpone
the day of our wedding. If we are to begin a new life —
let us do it soon."

" 'Tis for you to decide. I am yours, heart and soul."

Once more he drew her to his heart, and his lips sought
hers. She, influenced probably by the thought that she
belonged to him more tlian ever to-day, did not shrink
from his endmice, and, closing her eyes, abandoned herself
io his will, as if she herself yearned for that lirst kiss.

-;|

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; I

f'i.

274

CHAPTER YIII.

v:ii

1 .:t,l

For Polanetzki began now a period of bustle, prepara-
ti(Mi, and worry. His house had been a|)[)roprialely fur-
nished a year ago, before he made the ae([uaintanee of
Marinya. At tliat time Bukalzki made this house a target
for his wit, seeing in it a proof that Polanetzki was being
consumed by a desire to many, which tlie hitter made no
effort to deny.

"Yes," said lie, "I have enough on which to allow my-
self tliat luxury; at the siime time, I })ersua(le myself
that the begimiing of preparations for that purpose fore-
bodes the realization of the desire."

Bukatzki ap{)lauded this commendable foi'esight, and
expressed his surprise that, being so pro[)hetic, he did not
at the same time hire a nurse and a niiiid for the futuie
child. Frequently such discussions ended in a quarrel,
for Polanetzki would not tolera,t(^, any insinuations about
Ins lack of sober views of life. Put Hukalzki argued that
this was "■ bird-romance," endincf in the buildinof of a bii'd's
nest. One claimed that there was nothing wrong in the
idea of {)reparing a cage when one was about to come into
the possession of a bird. 'J'he other re[)lied that if the
hi 1(1 had not been caught the cage was only an illusion.
It all ended, of (!ourse, in a scathing hint about the legs
of liukalzki, who could notmakearun aftcrany biid. espe-
cially of the wingless variety. In such cases I>ukatzki
became angered.

Now, however, with tlie cage ready, and the* bird n(^t
only captured, but willing to enter it, Polanetzki iiad not
much to do on that scoic. But ]u) was surpiiscd that the
act of marriao;e, simi)le in its nature, had become in civil-
ized countries so comj)licatcd. It seemed to him that if
no one ))Ossessed tlie right to inteifeic with the moral
phase of the \niion, the ol'licial ov formal part of the

275

procedure should consist less of valueless ceremonies. He
was of this opinion because, in the th'st place, lie knew
very little of the intricacies of law ; he was hasty, hot-
tempered, and bore with ill grace the drawing of legal
papers and documents ; and then, having decided to marry,
he ceased to think and analyze himself, and went at it
like a business man.

Although Polanetzki swore off analyzing, lie persisted
in doing it, performing this operation, if not on himself,
then on Marinya. This he allowed himself, only because
he was sure of success. He understood, however, that in
the future of two beings the good will of one i)arty is not
sulBcient, and is absolutely worthless if it is not met and
joined by the good will of the other. He was certain
that in marrying IMarinya he did not wed a "dead heart."
She had come to the woild not solely with a pure, lionest
nature, but from early childhood had been face to face
with toil and worr}', under conditions which made her
foi-get her own self and think of others. Besides, over
her, like tlie last blessing of her dying mother, reigned
that repose that made her beloved in and around Kremen.
Polanetzki was conscious of it; he was convinced that,
building his future on her heart and character, he built on
a good and sound foundation. Often he recalled tlie
words of one of his lady-fi'iends, the friend of his mother,
who, to the question, what interested her most, the future
of her sons or daugliters, replied : "The future of my sons
alone fills me with anxiety, because my daughters, at the
worst, can only be unfortunate." Yes, sons are educated
by schools — and the world which may make scoundi'els
out of them ; whereas, the daughters are inoculated with
toxine of honesty, and they, " at the worst, can only be
unfortunate." Polanetzki understood tliat this was true
of Marinya, and if he studied her at all, this study was
more like the examination iy a jeweler of his diamonds,
but never like the method of thi; scientist, who h()[)es to
obtain unknown deductif»ns. And yet he once quarreled
with Alarinya, and the (]uarrLl was quite serious, the
cause being su])plied by a h^t'cr from Vaskovski at Pome,
wliich Polanetzki read to h-i.

'J'he letter contained the following:

27G

>'i

W.^

" My dear ! I reside near Tritone, at the pension
^Fraii^aise.' Please make an inspection of my Warsaw
residence, and find out whether or not Pan Snoptchinsk:
is taking good care of my urchins, and if the birds o:
Saint Francisco have food in plenty. The lads of the
Mionio sapiens' kind must be fed well. I made ample
I)iovision for this. Less instruction and more love. Pan
Snoptchinski is a good man, but he is melancholic. lie
exi)lained it was due to the snow. When he is under the
inliuence of tliis caprice, lie spends days and weeks staring
blankly at his boots. Children must be talked to, lo
inspire them with confidence. This is all about my War-
saw residence. My manuscript, of which I s]:)oke to you,
is being set up here in French, in the printing esiablish-
ment of the daily paper, L'ltalie. They poke fun at my
French, but I ain accustomed to this. Bukatzki arrived
here lately. He is a good, nice lad ! He has become an
accomplished eccentric. He loves you and Maiinya, and
everybody else, I presume, but he delights in denying it.
He frequentl}'^ speaks such rubbisli, tliat my ears begin to
witlier. God bless j^ou, my good lad, and your precious
Marinya! I would I could be present at your wedding,
but I know not whether they wi'- be ready with my book
before Easter Sunday, and, thjiel' 'e, until then, listen, my
lad, to wluit I have to say. Thk- is the object of my letter.
Do not think that I am old and speak just to make myself
lieard. You know tliat 1 have been a teacher, and gave up
that occu[)ation wheu I fell heir to a little fortune left by
my brotlier. I liave seen a good deal in this world. If
you ever have children, do not torture them witli too
mucli learning, but have them grow according to the will
of (^od. I could liave ])ut a period liere, but you have a
weakness for figures, and I am going to give them to you.
i$. child labors as much as an adult, as a government offi-
cer, for instance, witli this diffeience that llie officer is at
!ibti(y to converse with his f(»llow-workcrs during his
v:n-\^. to si\)nke cigarettes; while the cliild must strain all
its nerves, its utmost attention, lest lie should lose the
thi'Pini ai;d *jease to uiiderstaud wliat is said to him. The
offiroi (oes liome for a rest. The child must prepare
lessons for the following (hiy, wiiich means, for tlie more

'*:■.. '■ , ■(»

277

capable boy, four hours, for the less capable six hours of
tedious work. Add to this, that the poorer class of chil-
dren often serve as teacliers to their richer schoolmates, you
will discover, it makes an average of twelve houis daily.
Think of it — twelve hours of labor for a child I Do you
grasp it? Now take into account the vast army of dis-
eased, weak, and exhausted youths that grow up out of
joint, physically and mentally, given to all possible and
impossible manias? Do you understand how we populate
our cemeteries with our children, and why the most mon-
strous ideas find followers? At the present time humane
peo[>le limit the hours for factory employees, but the chil-
dren are ignored by philanthropy. Here is a new field of
useful activity and future glory ! Do not torment }our
cliildren with forced studying. I ask this of you and
Marinj'-a, and you must pledge your word to remember it.
I do not cast my words to the wind, as is the frequent
habit of Hukatzki, because I .am pri«mpted by a T»iire
heart. That will be the greatest refoi'm of futuni tiuies— •
the greatest since the introduction of Christianlly In
Prussia I met a i)eculiar accident, which I will describe to
you some other time. 1 now embrace you both." . . . .,

Maiinya lieard the entire contents of the letter, and,
like Snoptcliinski described by Vaskovski, looked • ;ji-
tinually at the ti[)S of her shoes. Polanetzki laughed
aloud, and finally said:

"Have you ever heard anything lik it? It's some
time yet bcfoie our wedding, and tlie professor is already
anxious about the fate of our children."

He paused, tlien added :

"And yet, the fault is mine, for I .lave written to him
about so many things."

He bent down to gaze into the drooping eyes of
Marinya.

" What have you to say about tliis letter? " asked lie.

When lie put this ({uestion Polanetzki was at that mo-
ment in the unfoi'tunalc position of a m; • wlio cannot con-
trol liimself, and acts in discord with liis own nature.
Tht.'ic was in his character, generally, rashness and rough-
ness, but, withal, lie was not strange to ten<lcnicss. But
now, in the glance, as in the question addressed to the

278

young g;'rl, who resembled a primrose, there was some-
thing savoring of the rougli and discourteous. She, too,
was aware that marriage involves the birth of children ;
but this appeared to her as something indelicate, which is
not discussed in the presence of young gii'ls, or, at least,
veiled in hints of a very delicate form, or in a moment of
great agitation, with hearts a-throl)ljing, under the iiitlu-
ence of a solemn disposition, when the snbject is tienttsi
like a sacred possibility of their comnion future. The
negligent, careless tone of Polanetzhi shocked her, and
unwillingl}^ she thought : " Why does he not understand
that?" 7\cting contrary to her own nature, and, as it
often happens with meek and timid people in moments of
confusion, feigned to l)e angrier than she really was,

" Vou must not treat me thus," exclaimed she, indig-
nantly. '•' You must not express yourself in that manner."

Polanetzki again burst into laughter, wishing to smooth
his bad bre:ik with foi'ced hilaiity.

" Whv are v<^i^i ancrrv?" asked he.

"You must not ti'cat me thus.'

" I do not understaiuh What's the trouble? "

" More's the pity if you do not understand."

Ho stopped lauq'hing- his face became dark with mge,
and he spoke ra])idl3^, like a man who suddenly loses con-
trol of his wordri.

" It may be that I am foolish, but I know what is good,
and what is not. In this manner our life becomes unen-
durable. Whoever is prone to make an elephant out of a
fly, must blame liimself for tlic outcome, and as I see that
my presence n,ni:f)ys you, I will leave you inunediately."
And, gi"asp:ng his hat, he made a stiff bow, and ran out.

Mariiiy;i did \v^\ top him. Anger, disappointment
for the time boing, benumbed all other senses, leaving
an impression .,f tljough somebody hiid struck her over
the h^^i'.d- Ik thougjits, scattered like a flock of birds,
letaijiod oidy o; e idea: "went awny ; will not return."
Thus on lier hend collapsed the structure which they
began to ])uild and eml)ellisli, and there remained nothing,
u void, which, was })ainf'il, toi-menting, aimless, like the
very life to come. Tfowcver, it was all so sudden, so
unexpected a')d incomprehensible, that she could not

»»

l!70

give herself an exact account of it, and approaching
lier writiuijf-desk slie besjfun niechanicallv to arraiHjfe the
different uiliclcs tiiereon witli yucli briskness that it
seemed as if her whole life de[)eii(led on it. Tlieii she
east her glance at Lida's [)Oilrail, suddenly sat down
and pressed lier teni[)les with lier liauds. After a while
she regained her composure, and the thought that Lida's
Avill was stronger than theirs brought a ray of hope to
her aching heart. She rose and paced the room, trying
to remember what had happened, how Polanelzki looked
and a(;ted, not only at the last moment, but one, tw ,
three daj's before. Compassion, regret, overcame the
smarting of the insult, and joined forces with the feeling
of affection she cherishe<l for Polanelzki. After some
meditation she conclude<l that she had no right to chide
him, that she was compelled to acee])tand love I'olanetzki
such as he was, and not to ilemand that he act in harmony
w^ith her ideas. "• He is not a doll, but a living human
being," she re[)eated sevei'al times. She was seized with
a consciousness of her own guilt and lemorse. Her
naturally meek heart struggled with her common-sense,
which told her that Polanetzki was wrong, that she said
nothing he conld not easily forget and forgive.

"If his is a kind and sympathetic heart, he will soon
return,"' thought she, at the same time fearing the de-
mands of masculine vanity in general, and I*olanetzki's
I)articularl3''. She was too intelligent not to have noti<X'd
that he was very sensitive and took great care to preserve
his re[)nl:ition for being stoical and firm. Half an liour
])a«<sed. Mild found lier deeply convinced that she alone
was to blame. " 1 have tantalized him so much,'" thought
she, "that I must submit now, and 1 will Ix^ the first to
hold out the hand of reconciliation." This was paramount

to tl

le writinir of ji not

P
He suffered (Mioui'h from h'u

i»lunder in regard to Kremen, and ought to be [>itied.
She was ready to burst into tears over his alleged woes.
Nothing- seemed easier to her than to write a few warm
hich, coming straight from her heart, wonld
is own. Slie was mistaken. Letters have no eyes

wo I us, W

lOlK

h h

to till with tears, no face to smik> both sadlv and enchant-

ino

ly, no voice to tremble and (piiver, no hands to hold

f>{^0

6vii the palm of peace. A letter may he written and un-
derstood variously, for it consists of black characters on
cold, death-like, indifferent paper.

Marinya tore up into fragments the third sheet of note
paper, when the face of Phivitski, with his blackened
moustaches, appeared on the thresliold.

" Is Polanetzki here?" inquired lie.

** No, papa."

'* And will he come again ? "

" I know it not," replied she, heaving a deep sigh.

*' If he comes, please tell liim that I will return in an
hour. I must speak to him."

" Oil, and so must I," thought Marinya, and throwing
away the fragments of the third sheet, she took a fourth
one, and grew pensive.

Should she treat the quarrel as an innocent, harmless
joke, or simply make an apology. Tlie joke might not
receive a cold reception, but an apology, however sincere,
is so diflicult, so very painful to make ! Had he but re-
mained, one word, the mere offering of her hand, were
sufficient, but he flew out, like a shot, that dear madman !

And ^^>he raised her head and began to ponder and plan
the contents of lier letter, when suddenly the bell in the
corridor rang violently. Marinya's heart, as if in response,
beat fast, while the question flashed through her brain:
" Is it he ? " Tlie door opened — it was he.

He entered like a wolf, with lowered head and gloom}"
face. Apparently he was not certain of the reception,
but Marinya jumped up from her seat and with a throb-
bing heart and beaming face, ha[)])y that he had returned,
ran to meet him, and put her hands on his shoulders.

*' Ah, what a kind, good man you are ! " exclaimed she.
" You don't know that I was about to write to you."

Polanetzki kissed lier hands in silence, and finally said,

" You ouglit to throw me down the stairs," and carried
awfiy by tlie feeling of gratitude, he drew her to his breast
and showered kisses upon her lips, eyes, temples and hair.
In su( h moments he rewarded himself for everything that
was lost, and what to ^im meant the charm of love.

" You av= very kiiui," continued he, releasing her. " I
came to apologize — nothing more. iVooled off, and gave

L\^l

''•J

myself a vigorous scoldin

T \-ialked tlie streets and

hoped to see you at the window, to learn, if possible, by
your face, whether or not I could return . . "

but 1

cou

not wait, and I came.

" 'Tis I who ought to heg your pardon, because the
fiiult is mine. You see the torn bits of paper. All
tJiis I hive written." Now liis eyes wc/e devouring her
face, her hair, which slie arranged again, and the more he
gazed at her, the more she appeared to him with her glow-
ing face and laughing eyes, the one girl he dreamed of in
the days of yore. Marinya felt his steady gaze, and grew
confused, and this embarrassment struggled with a purely
maidenly coquetry. She purposely combed her hair care-
lessly, unskilfully, so that it fell in long wav}' tresses
upon her shoulders. At the same time she said : " Stop
looking at me thus or I'll leave you."

'' But you are my treasure, my wealth. I have seen
nothing better, nothing })rettier, in my whole life."

And again he extended his hands towards her, but she
dodged, and escaped.

" You must not ! You must not ! " said she. " 1 am
burning with shame, and I must go aw\y."

At last, she rearrange, I her hair. <rhey sat down side
bv side and beo^an to eh it calmlv.

" And did you really intend to write to me ? " queried
Polaufjtzki.

'' I) )n't you see the torn paper? "

Mirinya looked up toward the book-shelf above her
desk and said musingly, '* because I was to blame mv-

S,)lf." ^ ^

And thiiiking that she could not be too generous, she
added, blushing and dropping her eyes :

'* And yet Vaskovski is right, speaking of —science."

Pohinetzki was seized witli the desire to kneel down
and kiss her little feet. Her beauty and generosity not
only disarmed him, but enchanted.

" I am lost, lost forever!" exclaimed he, ;is if fniishincr
aloud a certain Ihouglit — "you have absolutely conquered
me, and I am enslaved."

She gaily shook her head.

" Oh, I don't know, I am so timid, such a coward!"

282

■•it
'■*

" You — a coward ! If this is tlie case I will relate to
you a story. In Belgium I made the acquaintance of two
young ladies — sisters, who owned a tom-cat. He was so
quiet and tame, that it seemed one could dissect him,
without making him lose his tem[)er. One day one of the
sisters was presented with a tame rabbit, and what do you
thii.k? the cat x^'as so afraid of the new-C(un('r, that he
hid under the bureau, or behind the range. One day the
young ladies went out for a walk and remembered that
the cat was left alone with the i-abbit:

"I am afraid 'Matoo' will attack the rabbit," said one.

" ' Matoo' is afraid of him ; he shuns his presence," re-
plied the other, and the promenade was uninterrupted.
In an hour the young ladies I'eturned home, and can you
guess what thc^y fouiul there? Only the ears of the rab-
bit. Similar are the relations of women toward us men.
You feign to be afraid of us, and then ail there is left of
us — are the ears."

Polauetzki laughed; so did Marinya.

"I am positive that the fate of the rabbit will also be
mine," added Polauetzki.

But then; was no truth in his assertion ; he felt that it
would be otherwise. Marinya was amused for a moment
or two, then said:

" No ; I have not such a character."

** So much the better. I will tell you candidly what
influence I draw from my observation of life and human-
ity: the greater egoism alwa3^s has the advantage over the
lesser."

''Or the greater love yields to the lesser."

" The I'esult is the same. As to myself, I must confess
that had I been mai-ried to an insipid wife she would
have been in my hands — so. (Pt)lanetzki sjiread his
palm, then clenched it into a fist"). I^utwith such a pro-
found creature, like you — it's a different matter altogether.
It appears to me that the burden of the struggle will be
to make you thiidv and care a little more for 3'ourself, to
persuade you not to relin(|uish too much. Such is your
nature. At least, such is the universal o})ini()n of 3'on,
and even Mashko, who is far from boasting the wis-
dom of Soloman, said to me : " She may be unhappy with

283

you — you with her — never I ' And lie was r\rrht. It's cu-
rious to know what sort of a husband Mashko will make
for his wife. His is a tirm, iron hand."

'i,'^ . .Vi

Does he love her?

" Not as ardently as before, when he was encouraged by
flirtation."

" Because he was not so mean, like a certain gentleman
well-known to 3"ou, Pan Stach."

"Th<-y will make a peculiar couple. Slie is not
at all homel}', although somewliat pale, and her eyes
are always red. But Mashko has the consolation of
mairying a dowry. lie admitted that Kraslovska had
no love for him, and wlien the scandal with Goutovski
occuri-ed (s\U'h a gallant knight he is!) he felt sure tliat
the ladies would tidce advantage of the opportunity and
sever all friendly relations witli liim. In the meantime, it
tuiMied out the opposite, and, tliink ye, lyiasbko is again in
distress, because everytliing is going on so smoothly. He
considers it suspicious. And, indeed, some peculiar things
happen among this interesting little group. Gossip has
it, that there exists even a Pan Kiaslovska, and God
knows what not I All this, taken together, ai)pears to be
a very stupid affair. IIa])piness will not crown their
union, at least such happiness as I fancy."

"And what of the hai)piness of your imagination ?"

"I think that hap[)iness consists in the possibility of
marrying a positive woman, like you, and see the future
clearly before you."

And I think that to be happy means to be beloved, but
this is not suiriciont."

"What else is required?"

" It means to be worthy of the love, to — " And Marinya
grew silent, liiiding no more words for her answer, but
^he ultimately added :

"To have faith in j-our husband, and together with
him work for your welfare."

^ ■■■!

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33 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. MSSO

(716) 872-4S03

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n <«

28^

y, ;

CHAPTER IX.

.■*

.'1

i M

1 ! 1

5 ,',

PoLANETZKi was iiot mistaken. All vreni well with
Masliko, and Tanni Kraslovska conducted herself so
nicely that his alarm grew in dimension. At times he
ridiculed this dread himself, and as lie had hecame quite
intimate and outspoken with Polanetzki for some time
past, he once remarked ;

'* They are perfect angels ; with all ihat, my hair often
stands on end, because there must be something in it."

'* Better give thanks to God ! ''

" They are too idealistic, virtuous, and not empty. For
instance, yesterday I dropj)cd a hint that I plied my pro-
fession only because that, from my point of view, the sons
of our noblest families must nowadays call some occupa-
tion their own. And guess what was their reply ? They
told me that the law was as good an occupation as any-
thing else, that to them labor was r.oble if it was honest,
that only barren natures shrink from work. And fired so
many volleys by way of hints, that I wanted to answer
with some sentence from a caligraphic motto: *lionesty,
as a rock out of the abyss, etc.,' or something similar. In
a word, I tell you, there is something in this. I thought
it really bordered on the father, but the poor man seems
to liave nothing to do with it after all. I have been duly
informed by my anonymous friend that the 'father' is at
present living in Bordeaux, France, under the name of
Mr. de Langlais. He has a brood of his own, not so
nuich legal, as numerous, which he suj^ports on a pension
supplied by generous Panni Kraslovska."

*' And what is this to you?"

"Nothing at all."

"If it's true, it only proves that there are wretched
women — that's all."

" Yes, but is their income as big im their wretchedness?

i)s:,

Remember, that T am uiuVt many obligations myself.
And, besides, if tliey are really sucii women, and rich to
boot, I am in danger of really falling in love, which is al)-
surd. If, however, they possess naught, or next to it, I will
also full in love, which is still more absurd. I like her."

"No, tliat will be tlie only sensible thing. But think
oi yourself, Mashko, and also of me, and the Plavitskis;
you know, that in affairs of finance, I am anything but
merciful."

" I have some credit yet. Besides, you have a safe
mortgage on Kremen. In two or three days, the Kraslov-
skas will give an engagement i)arty, after which I ho[)e to
get all the information necessary. However," continued
he, "I do not comprehend how a positive man, like myself,
got into their graces. . . 'J'here is not a person worth be-
lievinGT in the whole of Warsaw who doubts the truth of
their re[)uted wealth. But they are so noble I . ."

''Your fears are baseless," impatiently interrupted
Polanetzki. " But you, my dear, are not a positive man,
by any means, because you alwaj's pietended, and you are
feigning even now, instead of attending to a business t]>:it
might give you bread." _

The betrothal of Mashko and Panna Kraslovska took
place a few days later. Among the guests invited was
Marinya. Panni Kraslovska liiirhlv esteemed Plavitski
and liis family connections, although she snubbed Bigel.
Masliko, not to be outdone, invited all liis friends bearing
loud titles, men with monocles on their eye, and their hair
parted in the middle, mostly youths, not extremely witty
nor brilliant. Among them weie the brothers Vishoff,
who were named Mizya, Kizya, Bi/ya, Brelotchek and
Tatka, respectively. They were also nicknamed the
live slumhering brothers, because their wliole life was con -
fined to their legs ; they were only awake when the Car-
nival began, and became })etrified again, at least in regard
to mental activity, for the whole of J^ent. Bukatzki loved
them, in his manner, and poked fun at them at every avail-
ai)le opportunity. There was also a Baron Cat, who
having heard from some o!ie about an ancient Cat from
De:ubu, always added, when being introduced to strangers :
♦'Froiii Dembu." To everything else, no matter what

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the topic was, lie invariiibly i cplicd : " Quelle di^le (Vhls-
toiie ! " Miishko was in close intimacy with tlie most of
tliem, addressed them '' thou," though there was just a
hint of negligence, bordering on contempt, in liis relations
to Kopovski, a young man with an excpiisite idealistic
liead, and beautiful, though senseless, eyes. Tlie list of
Mashko's clever friends comj)rised Polanetzki and Kresov-
ski. Kraslovska was honored by the presence of seveial
elderly Lidies, with their daugbteis, whom the brothers
Vishoff made feeble at(cm[)ts to entertain. A few bald
heads completed the audience that witnessed that in-
teresting act. The bride, all in white, looked very cliarm-
ing, notwitlistanding lier somewhat led and inllamed eyes.
There was a certain feminine beauty in Jier, enhanced by
lier peculiar, almost slumber-like, repose. She reminded
one of a statue of Perngini. At times she grew animated,
like an alabaster oil-lamp, at the sudden lliekering of tlie
flame, then becaiMc dim again, not without a certain charm.
Thanks to lier white dress, she looked better tlian ever
that night. Gazing at hei", Polanetzki mused that hers
might be a dry heait and an empty head, but she could bo
a good wife, especially for Mashko, who put good form
above all other virtues. Their life promised to be a cold
and gray day, when the sun does not scorch, wlien no
storm threatens. They were now sitting side by side, not
too far from, yet not too near, the rest of the company,
and entertained each other no more and no less than was
proper. If his conduct lacked the warmth of genuine
feeling, it more than bt^trayed the ardent desire to be

' 1 him in the same coin.

hey

quently smiled at each other, but lie spoke more in the
tone of the future head of the family; in sliort, they pre-
sented as ideal a coujile as could be imagined, in the

wor

I'liy

sense o

f tl

le wor^

"I could not endure tliat," thought Polanetzki, and
suddenly he repealled to mind, while she was sitting there,
smiling, white, and culm, that physician, who could "not
tear his heart away from her," who was lesting in Ids
grave, forgotten, as if he never existed. And Polanetzki
not only dt^spiscd Paniia Kraslovska, but her calmness
seemed to him a spiritual stagnation, that had once been

stylisl

I ; a repose

that jioots eondeinned, seeing in it some-

ki.

thing denioniacal ; l)ut now it hccanie a mere typiiicalion of
mental shaUowness and emptiness. "►She is only a goose
— a goose without a heart, at tliat."

Now he understood Mashko's alarm concerninc: their
noljK; conduet toward iiinisell", and, stiaiigely enough,
Alashko gained eonsideral)ly in his estimation, as a man of
keen [)ereei)tion and I'oiethought. 'Jhen he eonipart'd liis
own hride witli Tanna Kraslovhka. and witli glowing selt-
gratilication said to himsell": '' i\Iy Marinya is a bird of
another leather," and he lelt a soothing leliel", at the sight
ot" her. The former resem))led an artificial [)lant, under a
glass cover, a })lant that never inhaled the pure air. Tlie
other breathed life and warmth. And, l"urthernu)ie, the
comparison on the lines of social eti(iuctte was more iu
favor of Marin va, than otherwise. Lettino- liis eves wander
from one to the other, he iinally gained the conviction that
the ])erfection, tlu? rciincment, of I'anna Kraslovhka was af-
fected, unnatural, while with Marinya, it was inborn. In
the first it went no furtlier tlian the inner folds of her
dress, in the latter it w:is imbedded within the depths of
her soul, as a luitural end)leni of nobility. Fiom the stand-
point of Bukatzki he saw as nunli as lie could lemember
of the former's charactei'istic obs(;rvations ; icnicnd)ering
his saying, that women, notwithstanding their origin,
di\ ide into two distinct classes : cultured jtatricians with
s})iritual [)rinci[)les and demands, absorbed in the llesh and
blood ; or jjarvenues who })ut all these qualities on like
cloaks — for the cynosure ami (MdightennuMit of guests only.
Eyeing the noble [)rolile of Marinya, Poland /ki thought
with the })ride of a jx'asant marrying a })atrician lady, a
princess in the fullest sense of the word, beautiful and
bewiteliing. Women often need but a little lii-ld, but a
small share of happiness, to bloom and expand. When
Marinya letui'ued from Lida's o!)se(|uies, she seemed to
Polanetzki almost homely and repulsive, now she dazzled
him with her beauty; wiiile Kiasjovska in her ])resenco
looked like a faded lloweriand if the fortum^ of Marinya
depended solely u{)on her beauty, she would have been ac-
claimed beautiful, indeed.

With their indispensable glasses ou their noses, the fivo

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288

Inotliers Vishoff devoured Marinya with their eyes, and the
li.uoii Cat of Denibu declared that, were she free — well,
he might, perhaps, attempt to court her.

The same evening Polanetzki discovered a new feature
of his character, whose existence he had not heretofore
suspected : he was jealous. It was well that he was con-
fident of the purity of Marinya, and that his jealousy liarl
no fertile soil to grow on. In former days lie was jealous
of Mashko, but then it was natural. But now he could
not somehow make clear to himself the curious fact why
a Kopovski, with the head of an aichaiigel and the hrain of
a bird, sliould give him cause for initation, simply because
lie was sitting beside Marinya., and ])elting her with more
or less ridiculous questions, to whicli she replied for mere
courtesy's sake. He rebuked himself quite severely.
*' You cannot expect her to show him her tongue." How-
ever, he noticed later on, that she addressed Kopovski
quite frequently, that her replies were accompanied by
winning smiles. At supper he sat beside her, but was very
angry and silent. When she inquired the cause of his
gloom and silence, he made worse a decidedly bad effect,
by rei)lying :

" I do not want to mar the impression produced upon
you by Ko])ovski."

It pleascul her that he was jealous, and, puckering the
corners of her mouth, to ]Mevent an explosion of laughter,
she looked at hitn intently and said:

"Do you, also, find anything extraordinary in this
Kopovski ? "

"Indeed! Indeed! Wlien ho promenades the main
thoroughfares of tlie city, it seems to every one that he
carries his head witli him to give it an airing, lest it should
be destroyed by moths."

The corners of her mouth stood the test splendidly, but
her eyes were laughing, and at last she could endure it no
longer, and said softly : " You're a miserably jealous man."

'* I ? Not a whit."

** Then I will relate to you extracts from our conversa-
tion. You know that last night, in the pavilion, during
the concert, there was a sad accident — a case of catalepsy.
The subject was discussed this evening in our presence,

*^ '.1 "5

280

3US man.

and I asked Kopovski whether he ever saw a victim ot
lliat disease, and do you know what was his reply ? That
'every one is apt to earry different eonvietions upon the
matter.' Well, is he not an exl'aordinary man?"

Polanetzki relented, and laughed.

"I will make a short story of it. The poor devil tloes
not understand what is said to liim, and his replies are
made at random, just what he happens to think at a given
moment."

The rest of the evening they spent together very peace-
fully. At the moment of leave-taking, when the Plavitiikis
took their places in a two-seated carriage, and could not
make room for Polanetzki, Marinya, leaning over, whis-
pered : '' Will you come to-morrow for dinner ? "

'' I will, because I am in love," replied he, throwing her
fur coat around her.

And she whispered in reply, as if it were great
news to him : '' And so am I."

He was sincere, indeed, but her words had the genuine
ring in it.

Mashko escorted Polanetzki to the latter*s home. They
spoke of the evening, just spent. Mashko declared tliat
he liad made an effort to talk business with Panni
Kraslovska, but did not succeed.

"' There was a moment," said he, *' when 1 was about
to put to her a direct question, clothed, of course, in a
delicate form, but I shrank from it. What grounds liavo
I to doubt the existence or the size of my bride's dowry ?
Only because these ladies treated me more cordially than
I liad expected? This is all very well, yet I am afraid
to plunge too deep. Su[)])ose my fears are, indeed, un-
founded, suppose they really possess a large fortune —
they would become indignant, exasperated, my curiosity
would be considered impudent. This must be taken into
consideration lest my ship should meet its doom at
the very entrance to the harbor."

"• Let us admit that it's all true," replied Polanetzki,
" that they have, indeed, a goodly fortune ; but if it should
be proven a mere soai)-bubble, what will you do then?
Ha\e you thought of any plan ? Will you refuse to marry
Kraslovska ? "

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" Under all iiiid .any circumstances, marry T will, l)e-
caiise I have nolliinf,' to lose liy this transaction. ^larried
or single!, my fa,te is scaled. Hut, havini,^ mariied her, I
could fiankly reveal to my creditors the leal state of
affairs, hut . . . suppose she then repudiates me ?"

"Sui)i)ose she does not? What tlien ? "

" Tiicn I will certainly fall in love with her, and will
he[jfin ncLrotialions witli my creditors. I will cease, as
you call it, to ])ietend, and will endeavor to earn an
honest living for hoth of us. You know that I am not a
bad hand at law."

*' It's a good calling, all right, and Jill's well; but this
does not console mc, nor the Plavitskis."

" You are much better situated than the rest, having
Kremen as security. At tlie worst you will take the
management of the estate into your own hands, and make
the best of it. They are in a sore plight who took my
word for it, and I will frankly admit that I am sorry for
them. I trusted and trust. This is my weak spot . . .
But, given ample time, I will come out of this muddle in
good form."

They now reached Polanetzki's apartments, and Mashko
did not succeed iu finishing his sentence. But at the
very moment of departing he suddenly said : "Listen,
Polanetzki, I know you consider me a scoundrel, but I
am not as guilty as you may think. True, I pretend, I
feign, as you like to express it, but I had to dodge, and
clinch, and sprint, and in this fashion got olf the straight
])ath. But I !im worn out, and will candidly admit that
there has come ui)on me a great desire to taste a little of
that happiness which I have never known before. I
wanted to many your present bride, though she is by no
means rich. As to Kraslovska, there are moments when
I fain would pi'efer to see her penniless, but not to see
her loyal and true at the discovery th:H, mine is a mined
fortune. I sa}" this sincerely, — and now, good-night! ' '

" This is something new in Mashko," nuised Polanetzki,
entering the gates of his house. Ai)proaching his door
lie was amaze(l to hear issuing from his parlor sounds of
music. Some one playing on the piano. The valet ex-
plained that Bigel had been awaiting his return for the

'2n

last two hours. Poliinet/.K'i Ix-t-unie alarmed, but at the
.same moment he lliou'Hit tliat were lie tlie hearerof some
bad news, lie would not tliink of music. Bif^d, it tran-
s{>ired, wanted I*olam*l/.ki's signature to some (h)cument
\vlii(di Wcis lo be mailed llu^ followinir morniuijf.

'• But you could liavc left llie [)a[)ers here and gone to
bed," remonstrated ]*ol:int't'/ki.

*• I took (juite a na[) bere on tlie sofa, tben awoke and
sat down at tbe piano. I played tolerably well in olden
times, but now mv iincrcrs are [jrowinor lieavv. . . . Your
Marinya, I think, is a player. It's such a pleasure to have
nmsic in your home.*'

Polanetzki laughed his sincere, hearty laugh.

'' ISIy Marinya possesses the talent of the Scriptures:
'The left hand knows not what the right doeth.' Poor
child ! She makes no pretension to being an artist, and
only plays when yielding to incessant demands."

"" You seem to belittle it, to ridicule it; but such is the
way of lovers."

" Yes. I am in love. At least it appears to me so now,
although this conviction is growing stronger of late. Will
you have some tea ? "

" Yes. Do you come from the Kraslovska's ? "

"Yes. I have spent the evening there."

"Y/ell, how is Masliko? Is he anyway near a safe
haven ? "

"A moment ago we parted. He brought me home.
By the way, he often gives utterance to such things one
would scarcely ex[)ect from him."

And Polanetzki, glad to have some one to whom he
could relate his impressions, began his narrative, desci'il)-
ing the attitude of Mashko, and his own sinprise when he
discovered in the matter-of-fact, practical lawyer, a
romantic individual.

" Mashko is not necessarily a scoundrel," said P>igel,
"he is only on a crooked line, on the wrong road, which
is caused by his strife and struggle for pei'functory honors.
On the other hand, this doubtful honor saves him from a
final collai)se. As to the sentimentalism you discovered
in the man "

Bigel cut off the end of his cigar, lighted it most care-

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202

fully, and, assuming a moie c >infortal)le position, con-
tinued :

" Bukatzki would deliver himself on the same theme of
a dozen or two sardonic paratloxes, touching society. I
never forgot his assertion that here sonietliing nuist
always be admired and h)ved by some one. He thinks it
stupid, but L deem it very impoitant. Living in this
woiid, we all nuist Ije something — and wiiat, pray, are we,
and what have we ? No money, brain — just enough to
enable one to establish himself firmly in his respective
j)lace in society. In fact, what we still possess is the love
for somebody, or, at least, the natural demand for it. You
know tiiat 1 am a sober, sensible man, a merchant to Ixiot,
and tlierefore my logic is sound. 1 frequently think of
Bukatzki. ... A Mashko, for instance, in many another
place, would be branded a rascal. I know a number of
such men, — and here, being a scoundrel, he may pa,ss for
an honest man, and it's all right — just the thing ! As
long as thci'e smoulders within him the last spark of
respectability and decency, he cannot become a brute. And
this spark will always glow, because a man here must love
something, sooner or later, and redeem himself."

" You remind me of Vaskovski, and what you say re-
sembles his views of the Aryans."

" What's Vaskovski to me ! I say what I think. I
know ofj>ne great truth : dejirive us of that yearning to
love, and we will fall to pieces like a barrel without
hoops."

" Apropos of that, let me tell you of my conclusion,
made many moons ago. Whether you love someone or
not — that is another question, but of one thing I am fully
aware — ^}'ou must love somebody. I thought of this a
good deal. After the death of Lida, I often felt, and
1 do so now, a smarting, painful, yearning. There are
minutes — liow shall I explain it, — moments of wony, of
distrust, of sinister doubts, which forebode no good ; and if
in spite of all I take tliis step, if I enlist in tlie ranks of
married men, it is only witli the object of giving a vital
impetus to the love of mankind toward its fellow-beings;
to support, so to say, its crumbling structure."

**It may be so, and yet it may not," replied the merciless

1^0:]

»;.. +1

Bigel, "your marrhif^c is dictatod by pure impulses of tlie
intellect; you aie niairyiiif^ hecau.se vour wile to he is a
j)retty, honest lass, wlio cjiptivates you. Do not deceive
"ourself in tlie Itelief tliat this is not so, for tlien vou will
Ixigin to simulate. All uumi in voui* position are a prey
to sucli doubts. I, myself, as you are awjire, am not a
philosopher, and yet, ten times a day, on tht; evt? of my
wedding, 1 tortured myself with the (pu'stion: 'Do 1 love
my bride suilicieutly, do 1 love lier jis I oni^htto, is not my
love inspiied more by calculation than by the impulse of
the heart?' Of course I married sensibly. My wife is a
good woman, and our life is a tolerably happy one. So
will yours be ; you must take things as tliey eome. This
constant piyiug into the mysteries of your heart — is
absurd."

"Perhaps it is. I have no desire to lie on my l)ack,
face upward, all day long, and analyze myself, but I can
not shut my eves to facts."

"Which facts?"

" That my feelings underwent a radical change ; they're
no longer what they have been. 1 think they will ulti-
mately regain theirold form and intensity. I confess that
everything points that way just now. I marry, regardless
of all remarks pro and con, as if they were never made,
but I keep on uttering them, nevertheless."

" They won't hurt you."

" Besides, I want the windows of my house to face the
sunny side of the street, oi- else my rooms will be cold."

" Very well said," replied Bigel.

■i

2!U

CHAPTER X.

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Spring was usliered in once more. Lent was at an
end, and witli the last days came the two great events of
the year: the weddings of both Mashko and Pohmetzki.
Bnkatski, wlio was invited to be groomsman, sent in reply
the following lines;

"Mine would be, indeed, a lieinous crime were I to dis-
courage, to banish, the creative power from the general
situation ; that is, the state of complete, absolute peace
and tranquillity, and, by means of marriages, introduce
into it an element of noisy, vociferous beings that demand
cradles, and amuse themselves with their tin}' feet, hold-
ing them in dangerous proximity to their mouths. I will
come, nevertheless, because your stoves and ovens are
much warmer than ours."

He arrived a week before Easter Sunday, and brought
for Polanetzki an elegant present, in the form of a parch-
ment, bearing the inscription: "Stanislav Polanetzki,
after a long and grievous celibacy, etc.'*

Polanetzki was much pleased with this eccentric gift,
and the next day took it wdth him to Marinya. But he
forgot the day was Sunday, and was sadly disappointed,
finding her prepared to- leave.

" You are going away ? " asked he.

"Yes — to church. To-day is Sunday."

"Oh, Sunday! Yes, true. I planned to spend the
forenoon with j'ou here."

She glanced at him with her clear blue eyes, and said,
simply :

"And the church services?"

At first Polanetzki received those few words as he did
all others, paying no particular attention to their subtlety,
free from the suspicion that in the future their sentiment

20.')

is (li'stinod to [t.i,y an all too prominent part. Alechanic'
iilly, lie iinsweied :

•• Vou say -tl»e service? Well, I am quite free myself,
now. Wo will <^o toL^eiher."

Maiinya reiuMved liis proposal witli apparent pleasure,
ami wIkmi on tin; way to cliurcli, said:

"Tlie liappier I am. the more intense is my love for

(rod .

"' This is an evidnict; of a ofood eharaeter, because a good
many think of (iod as of a horril'le cahimity- a phigue, as
it were."

In iliureh he was once more struck hy the same thonj^dit
that came to him during his I'.rst journey to Kremen,
when lie accomj)anied tlie old man to churcli in Vontori.
h was: all philosophers and all tlu.Mr pet systems perish
and pass away into the unknown Infinite. Man, alone,
was and always will he the same. IJut itapptsired to liim
incomprehensible. Since the death of Lida "he returned
time and again to these riddles, whether lie happened to
be in the cemetery, in church attending mass, or under
other circumstances, when in a man there takes place
somethincf which ha.s no actual connection with the
real di'mands of life, l)ut with things mortal, ** beyond the
grave." It struck him that for that unknown existence
"beyond the grave," a great deal was being done; that a
man, in spite of all his philosophy and doubts, lives in a
manner to confirm his belief in another world. Polanetzki,
furthermore, meditated nj)on the startling struggles and
collapse of large and small egoisms, the numerous acts of
oharitv, the philanthropic institutions, such as asylums,
nos])itals, churches — all built with the hope of a fair
return for investments made in the '"great beyond."

This thought found lodgment in his brain, and he un-
derstood that before attem[)ting to affect a reconciliation
with life, one must treat death in similar manner, which
is a fruitless task without profound, sincere faith in that
" great beyond."

Naturally, when a man is well and thriving, the ques-
tion solves itself easily enough. It is: "To the devil
with rags; sable is mucli better."

And if this is true, what more can one desire? Man

4 ^

296

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sees before him in tlie future a new existence, at the woi-st,
bristling with curious events, and this confidence in its
existence is panunouiit to peace of soul.

In Marinya, Polaiietzki found a splendid illustration.
Being somewhat nearsighted, she bent over lier prayer-
book, and when from time to time she raised her head,
her face was full of repose, and seemud angelic in its
peacefuinejs2.

" Happy, fortunate woman," mused he. " And she
always will be happy."

On their return home Polanetzki, still under the influ-
ence of the same thought, said to Alarinya :

"•In the church you resembled the face in the painting
of Angelo ; you looked the picture of happiness."

**I am, indeed, very happy. And do you know why ?
Because I am now a much better woman tlian I have
been. Before, I nursed a vengeance, a wrong. I saw no
ray of hope before me, and everything seemed to melt
and merge into a sea of grief and bitterness. It is claimed
that misery ennobles only chosen liearts, but I am not one
of those fortunate fev/. Grief and misery may, in truth,
purify and ennoble, but misery and grief certainly do spoil,
ruin, and poison our life."

" Was your hatred for me very intense?"

Marinya gazed at him lovingly.

" So intense, that day and night I only thought of you,
and you alone."

Mashko was right. Somehow he ma le use of the ex-
pression : " She prefers to hate you rather than to love me."

"True! True!"

Thus conversing they reached her home. Polanetzki
showed her his parchment, but she did not relish Bukatzki's
joke. Marriage to her was sacred, both from the standpoint
of sentiment and religion.

" Such "^hings are not to be treated as a joke," she said
to Polanetzki, "it is an insult to me and my views on tlie
subject."

Bukatzki himself came after dinner. Several months ot
life in Italy left no marks of improvement \ipon the frail
body. If anything, he had grown thinner. The wine,
" Ciiianti " did not vmv^i his catarrh of the stomach. Hiss

297

nose reminded one of tlie sharp point of a knife and the
ironically smiling face ivsenihlcd a bit of china. Being
considered a relative of Plavitski, he spoke without con-
straint, and hardly crossing the threshold lie announced,
that,thaiiks to the present depravation of the human mind,
he can only regret, but not wonder, at their betrothal;
that he came with the hope of saving them, but arrived
too late, and it behoves him now to be prudent. Marinya
was inclined to take offence at this rather bold remark,
but Polanetzki, who loved Bukatzki, gave another inter-
pretation to the hitter's words, saying in conclusion to the
eccentric: *' Save your jokes for the wedding, when you
will otfer your toast, and now tell us how our professor
is getting along? "

*' His mind is gone," gravely responded Bukatzki.

" Pray do not joke — It's brutal," said Marinya.

But Bukatzki heeded her not and continued: "I have
sufficient evidence that Professor Vaskovski is demented.
First, he promenades the streets of Rome hatless, or rather
he did so before he left Rome for Perugia ; second, he at-
tacked a young and beautiful English lady whom he tried
to convince that the Britons are Christians only in their
private life, that the treatment of Ireland by England is
not at all Christian. Third, he is publishing a pamphlet
in which he declares that the mission of the rehabilita-
tion of Christianity and its glorious history is entrusted
to the youngest of the Aryans. Does it not all prove his
insanity ? "

" We knew this before his departure, and if he is threat-
ened with nothing worse, we miiy still hope to see him in
excellent health."

''He does not thinK of returning?"

Polanetzki took out of his j^ocket a notebook, and wiiting
on it a few words with a pencil gave it to Marinya.

" Read it and tell me your oj)inion," said he.

" If you use such tactics in my presence, — I retire,"
rcinarked Bukatzki.

*' No, no, it's not a secret."

Marinya flushed crimson., like a red ripe cherry, and in
her exultation, nrt believing her own eyes, she asked:

** And this is true ? "

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It depends on you."

Ah, Stiicli ! I never even dreamed of this. T will run

at once and tell papa.

And she ran out of the roon

If I

were a

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If at

once,

>aid

Bukatzki.

"Why?"

" Because if a few words written by the hand of the
senior partner of tlie firm of Polanetzki, Bigel & Co. can
make a better, stronger impression than the clioicest of
sonnets, it is far better to be a miller than a poet."

Tlie delighted Marinya had forgotten the notebook, and
Polanetzki showed it to Bukatzki.

*' Read," said he,

"Afte:- tlie wedding — Venice, Florence, Rome, Xaples.
Good idea ? " read Bukatzki. " Ah — this means a trip to
Italy."

"■ Yes. Think ye, the poor girl had never been abroad,
and Italy to her was an enchanted land, of which she only
dared to di'cam. It's a great joy to her — and I want to
grant her that pleasure."

" Love and Italy ! O God I hov/ often have I seen this
combination ! But it's all so old, so threadbare.'

" It's not true ! try to fall in love, and you will see vhat
a world of new sensations j^ou will discover !"

'* The trouble with me, my dear, is not that I had never
been in love before, but that I am no longer capable of
loving. I have long since unearthed that spirit, and he
presents no more riddles for me."

" Get married, Bukatzki ! "

" I cannot : I have weak eyes and a weak stomach."

" This ought not to be an obstacle. What else ? "

"'^ou see, my dearest, woman is a blank piece of paper
on which one can and docs write on either side. Your
eyes swim, the words co!ifuse, and the whole becomes a
sort of hash which I can neither read nor digest.

"But you cannot live forever on witticisms."

"And yet I will die, just as surely as you who are
going to be married. It seems to us that we lliink of
deatli, but she thinks a good deal more of us.'*

In the meantime Marinya returned with her father, who

3mes a

embraced Polanetzki and said: "IMarinya told me that it
is yo'ir intention to go to Italy after your wedding?"

"If my future empress will give her (consent."

"She wii' not only consent," replied Marinya, "but she
is at this very moment losing her head from sheer joy, and
is ready to jump and dance like a ten-year-old child."

"If the blessings of a lonely old man will be of any
benefit to you in your travels," said Plavitski, " I cheer
fully invoke the blessing of God U[)on your heads."

He lifted his eyes heavenward, and raised his hand to
pronounce the blessing, but Marinya stopped him, and
kissing his hand, said joyfully:

" You will have ample time to bless us, papa dear —
this is going to take place after the wedding."

"Properly speaking," interfered Bukatzki — "I see no
ground for the blussing — it's so easy nowadiiys to travel ;
you buy your railroad tickets, you clieck your trunks,
take your places in the parlor car, and off you are."

" Have you really come to that condition, when you
think a father's blessing unnecessary," complained Pla-
vitski, addressing the young cynic.

Instead of an answer, however, the latter embraced
Plavitski, and kissed the lapels of his waistcoat.

"And shall we not play a game of cards, * old father,' "
said he, " and give the young lovers a chance to be alone
with each other ? "

" But on one condition — the game must be played with
a rubicon.* "

" With anything you like. '

And Bukatzki having pacified the old man, turned to
tlic young people.

" Take me along as your chaperon through Italy."

"I shall never entertain such an idea. Why should I?
liiough I have traveled extensively Ihrougli France, have
lived in Belgium, I know but little of the charms of Italy.
I am going there to see siglits, to look at things interest-
ing and eidiglitening, and not at you. I liave seen sucli fu
you, and know that you do not love as nuich art, as you sup-
pose you do. Yes, tliey really come down to tliat," he
added, turning to Marinya. "Tlieylose every feeling for

* Game culled piquet — " lubicoii," presumably a teiiu.

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that great and, at the same liiuu, simple art, and seek for
something that could still amuse their satiated nature,
sometln'ng that would furnish tiiem witli an opportunity
to show off. They see not the tree, but look for stum^js.
They are not enthusiastic at the sight of things colossal,
upon which we would g.ize open-mouthed. They need
some small object, of wliose existence no one ever heard.
They are constantly occupied with finding names for
such ' discoveries,' with persuading others to believe
with them tliat the worst and weakest pi-oductions are
mucli more curious and interesting than the best and most
perfect of their kind. Were we to accept his proposition,
we should never gaze on the innnense cathedrals, but
upon miniatures, which mi; ^t be examined through a huge
telescope. All this is satiety, abuse. . . We are com-
mon, every-day people, we will look at things of inteiest
to us."

Marinya looked at her lord to be, with ill-concealed pride,
as if she wished to say : " This I call eloquence, sense ! "

And her pride was crescendo, when Bukatzki simply
and laconically acquiesced:

" You are right I "

But indignation took the place of pride when Bukatzki
added: ** And had you not defended yourself before this
charming judge, I could not have won my case, under any
circumstance."

" Pardon me, but I am not blind," pleaded Marinya,
" nor am I a connoisseur of art."

" On the contrary, I have no doubt that you are. If I
am permitted to be one. I will declare, a little boldly,
perliaps, that my knowledge has a wide range, and it does
not prevent me from loving the great in art, I assure you.
You may believe me, not Polanetzki."

" Oh, no, ril ratlier take my chances on him. '

*' I foresaw this," replied Bukatzki.

Marinya began to eye now one, then the other, with
an air of perj^lexit}'. Meanwhile Plavitski returned with
the cards. The betrothed paced the room, hand-in-hand,
soon lost in each ot.ier. Bukatzki felt bored, and tliis
feeling grew stronger every minute. Toward the end of
the evening his gaiety vanished entirely, and his small

301

face became still smaller, his nose grew sharper, and he
looked withal like a faded, withered leaf. The friends
left Plavitski's house together. Polanetzki could nothelj)
noticing his friend s gloominess, and inquired :

" What ails you ? Why do you walk like a wet rooster ? "

''Because I am — a machine " — replied Bukatzki. '"As
l(^ng as there is plenty of fuel stored away within mts I
ride ahead, but as soon as the stock is exhausted, my
speed is checked — I halt."

'' What do you use for fuel? " asked Polanetzki,
gazing at him attentively.

*' I have various sorts of coal. Come along witli me.
I will treat you to a cup of coffee, and this will en-
liven us."

" Listen, though it is a delicate matter, yet some one
told me, that you are addicted to the morphine habit.
How long have you used it?"

" Not very long. No ! If you knew what a wonderful
vista opens after a dose ! "

" Have fear of God, man ! This will kill you ! "

" It does. But tell me, pray, sincerely, candidly, did it
ever strike you that one may be afflicted with a nostalgia
for death."

" No, I understand things differently."

For a moment both were silent.

'' Come, come !" urged Bukatzki, " I shall not treat you
to morphine. I have coffee and a bottle of excellent
Bordeaux. We shall have an innocent orgie."

The apaitments of Bukatzki were luxuriously furnished,
denoting the wealth and taste of the owner; and though
they had the air and odor of emptiness, the spacious
rooms were fdled with trifles in some wav or manner re-
lating to art, paintings and engravings. In some rooms
lamps were burning. Bukatzki was in liorrorof darkness,
even when he slept. The Bordeaux was found in the cu[)'
board, and a minute later a blue flame merrily danced un-
der the coffee-urn. Bukatzki stretched himself on the
sofa, and suddeidy said:

"It may be that you doubt that I, weak as I am, have
not the slightest fear of death?"

"No; but I once expressed myself that you are con-

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802

stantly making fun ot sometliing or other, trying to de-
ceive otliers Jind yourself. Von lack a gootl deal of what
constitutes a real man. Eveiy thing in you is pretended,
artificial, assumed."

" Human stupidity amuses me."

''If yoti are so clever, why did vou not make a better
use of your own life ? "

Polanetzki cast his glance around him, and added :
"Look around you. With all this sumptuous luxuiy,
you are lonely. Yoti're killing yourself. You, too, ])e-
long to those who forever pretend ! What a peculiar dis-
ease of our society ! You're constantly j)Osing — nothing
else. I do sometimes. But in time it becomes a habit,
and even a second natiue."

Under the influence of the wine, Bukatzki regained his
humor, became more talkative, but not gay.

" But there is one thing I do not deceive myself about.
Wliatever I could say to myself, whatever others could
offer in argument, I have long since pondered on, and re-
})eated to myself more than once. I lead a very stupid
life. T am surrounded by a great nothingness, which I
fear. I fill it up with the mingled assortment of odds and
ends you see in this room, to leave no jdace for my fears.
Not to dread the advent of death is a different matter, be-
cause after death one does not feel, does not think. Then
I will constitute an atom of that ' nothingness ; ' but to be
conscious of it while you are still alive, to feel it, to give
yourself an account of it, this is reality. Nothing can
be meaner than that. Besides, my health is very j)Oor,
and tliis fact robs me of eneigy, and that is why, having
gone through my natural store of fuel, I supplement it,
renew it. There is in this less pretending, less posing
than you think. Of couise, supplying myself with self-
made fire, I look upon life from the ironical point of view ;
I resemble a sick man who lies on the side that is most
convenient for him. I feel comfortable thus. That my
pose is unnatural, I make no denial ; any other jiose
were annoying. I consider the subject exhausted. No
more of it, please."

" But you should devote yourself to something, some
work."

" Work — indeed ! First, though I know a lot, I am
capable of doing nothing. Then I am a sick man. Be-
sides, your advice is as un[)ractical as it would be to tell
a paralyzed man : * Go ; walk on,' while the poor devil
can scarcely drag his feet. But, enougli of this ! Have
e wine, and let's speak of yourself. That

some moi
Phivitski

;1,

doinsr well in

II a very nice ^ , ^ ^

marrying her. What I am saying during the day is not
wortli remembering. She is a splendid woman, and she
loves you."

Evidently excited by the wine, Bukatzki began to talk
faster.

** What I am saying during the day is not worth paying
attention to," repeated he, " but now it's night, we are
drinking wine, and therefore let us be sincere. Have
some more coffee? I love its aroma. You must always
mix Mocha with Ceylon in equal parts. Now there
comes the moment of divulging confidences. Do you
know what I think ? I ci-nnot compreiiend what happi-
ness there can be in glory, because I am not a prey to it,
but as the temple of Epliesns had long been reduced to
ashes, I see no prospects. I adm't, however, that if this
be hap[)iness, it is so small tliat a mouse could make away
witli it, not only for its breakfast, but after a long day in
a rich pantry. I know wliat it is to bo wealthy, because
I am a wealthy man ; I know what it is to travel, because
I roved and roamed the whole wide world over ; I know
what freedom is, for I am free ; I know the wo; th of
woman — too much of lier; and last, I know books. I
have besides a number of paintings, engravings, china.
And now, hear ye, what I have to say: All that — is
naught — an absurdity, dust, in comparison witii a heart
that beats with love. This is the result of my life-long
observations, but I have reached the end, that moral
people find at the beginning."

And lie feverishly began to mix his coffee with a
spoon.

Polanetzki, a man of a liot temper, jumped up quickl}'.

*'Oh,you brute?" exclaimed he, "did you not declare a
few months Jigo that you were fleeing into Italy, only be-
cause there was no one to be in love with on those sunny

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304

shores, that no one would luvc }ou. Do you remember?
Will you attempt to deny it? "

"And what did I say this morning of your bride? I
said that you were crazy, and now I say : You are doing
well in marrying her ! Do you expect logic from me ?
To chatter and to speak are two widely different tilings.
I am more outspoken now, because wine loosened my
tongue."

Polanetzki, in agitation, paced the room. " This is
monstrous ! Astounding I " said he. '* Here is a state of
things for you ! So they all plead, when they are pressed
to the wall."

Almost trembling, Bukatzki filled with unsteady hand
another cup of coffee and continued : " It's bliss — to love,
but there is something far better— to be loved ! There can
be nothing better than this ! I would give everything for
this . . . But J. am not wortli speaking of . . . Life — is a
biise fraud, a farce, written without talent. What is worse,
it's often a very bad melodrama, and if life contains any-
thing worth living for, it is the right to be beloved.
Imagine, that I have never experienced it, and you — you
happy man, have found, what you sought for ..."

" You do not know what difficulties I had. "

" I do. Vaskovski told me ... It mattei*s not . . . what's
important : — you must know how to appreciate it."

" What do you demand ? I am aware that I am loved, I
appreciate it, and there the story ends."

Bukatzki put his hands on Polanetzki's shoulders.

*' No, Polanetzki, though I am a fool as regards my own
interests, I am still capable of observing what's going on
around me. This is not the end. It's the beginning, the
opening chapter. The majority of men say the same
thing : ' I will marry, and that settles it,' and the ma-
jority are grievously mistaken."

*' I do not comprehend this philosophy."

" I am sorry. You see, it is not enough to take a wife — ■
you must j^ield, give yourself away to ner, and she must
be conscious of this. Do j'ou understand ? "

" Not very well."

*' Bah—you feign innocence. She must not only feel
heraelf the owner, but the commander, the autocrat. Soul

ror,

into soul! Hand into hand I Otherwise, yon may break
your skull. Marriages are either good or had. Mashko's
marriage, for instance, will not be good, for various rea-

sons.

" He does not at all share this opinion- However, I am
really very sorry that you have never married, since you
understand it so well, how everything ought to be ' done.'"

" To understand everything and act accordingly, this
would mean at the end t^^e abolition of all precipitations,
sudden falls and craslies, after which our limbs aie sore
and our joints are stiff. At least, can you imagine me
married ? "

AndBukatzki laughed his thin shrill way. His former
hilarity returned to liim, and with it his view of things,
from a humorous standpoint.

" You will look comical enough, God knows ! but
imagine me ! One may kill himself laughing. Two weeks
hence, when on the eve of your wedding, you will see the
ridiculous phase of it. Then in one crazy chaos tljere will
be love, heart-throbbing, serious sober thoughts, a new
epoch of life. The florist witli the ordered bouquet, the
evening dress-suit, mislaid cuff buttons, the tying of tlie
neck-scarf, the putting on of patent-leather shoes— all
together, in one word— a measly hash. Oh, save me, angels
of heaven ! I pity you, my dear, and I beg you not to
take my words seriously. I think, the new moon is strug-
gling through the clouds, and during the new moon I am
afflicted with a mania to utter sentimental monstrosities.
Everything so stupid! This new moon, and nothing else !
I was meek and tame as a sheep that lost its first lamb,
and might perish of a slow fire, if I did not unload on you
some of my jokes ..."

Polanetzki attacked him fiercely.

" I have witnesvsed many a stupid thing in my life, but
know ye what appears to me most absurd in you ? You
go round and round, recognizing no authority above your-
self, you are in mortal fear of truth, as of fire, because
some one has spoken it before you. The devil ! I have
not words enough ! As to youi'self, my dear, you were
more sincere a minute ago, than now. Now you are again
like the poodle that dances on two legs. Let me tell

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300

you that ten such Buk.itzkis could not convince me that I
did not win my fate in a lottery."

And he parted from Bukatzki in a raq-e ; but in the cool
air of the street he grew calm again and said to himstdf :

"There is the truth! That's what different Mashkos
and Bukatzkis own up to when they wish to be sincere ;
and still I won my fate, and I will make an open secret
of it."

At home he gazed for a moment at the portrait of Lida,
and said loudly :

" My poor, dear pussy ! "

After which he went to bed, and until Morpheus kissed
his eyes he thought of Marinya with a calm feeling, that
sealed the problem of his life.

Notwithstanding Bukatzki's words, he was profoundly
convinced that his marriage would decide and put an end
to every uncertainty.

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307

CHAPTER XT.

" The catastrophe," as Bukatzki expressed it, arrived at
last. Polaiietzki, whose sensitive mind had ex[)eiienced
many a sensation in liis eventful past, connuded that if
there are m(>nients in a man's career when he cannot
collect his thoughts, tliey are the days before his wedding,
especially on its very eve. At times his brain was
crowded with a galaxy of thoughts and impressions, dis-
connected, shadowy ideas he could not muster out, nor
recognize. He merely felt that a new epoch liad begun
in liis life, that he burdened himself with new, great
duties, which lie undertook to assume honestly and con-
scientiously, but at the same moment he thought : "Why
is the cab not here ? " and his astonishment at the delay
he sup[)lemented with a tlneat. " I defy them to come
late. I will wring their necks ! '* At times he became
solemn and dignified, as if he dreaded that future for which
he now became responsible. He felt elated, ennobled, and
at that feeling hs lathered his face before the looking-
glass, thinking at the same time whether or not he ought
to call in a barber for that solemn occasion, to shave him
and comb his rebellious curls. Marinya was in all his
thoughts; he saw her as distinctly as if slie were stand-
ing before him, and thought that she was now dressing,
that she stood before the mirror, talking to the maid,
while her tender little heart was beating fast and rest-
lessly. He grew sentimental, and even muttered to him-
self: ''Never fear, my darling. I won't harm you."
Then he fancied himself in the future a good, considerate
husband, went off into a veritable fit of emotions, and
cast a yearning, loving glance at his patent-leather shoes
st;niding under the chair, on which his fiock-coat lay.
From time to time he rei)eated to himself: "If you
many, marry in style," and added mentally that he was

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ail imbecile for having hesitated so long. lie felt that he
loved her, and at the same time feared that though the
weatlier was tine, it miglit rain, that it would be cold in
chnreli, that within the next hour or so he would kneel
beside Marinya, that it were better to tie his scarf in a
bow, tliat marriage is on«j of the gravest ceremonies of
life, that there is something sacred in it, and therefore
one ouglit not to lose his head under any circumslanees,
that an hour later it will be all over, the invited guests
will depart, and then will begin the normal, quiet life of
husband and wife. However, these chaotic thoughts at
times scattered like a flock of sparrows, and the brain of
Polanetzki became a blank, and from his lij)s escaped in-
com|)rehensible phrases, as, for instance, " To-mo)Tow is
Wednesday, my watch, the eighth of April . . . my
watch, my watch ! '* Then he regained composure, and
repeated : " One must be an idiot . ..." and the
scattered sparrows returned to his bewildered head, flock
after flock, and uegan to circle and hover round and
'round.

In the meantime, Abdulski, the agent of the house of
Polanetzki, Bigel & Co., who accepted the honorary office
of groomsman, together with Bukatzki, arrived. A
Tartar by descent, with a swarthy, yet handsome face, he
looked quite presentable in his frock-coat and white
cravat. Polanetzki exi)ressed the hope that his agent
would soon follow his example, and take unto himself a
wife. To which Abdulski replied : '^ Would I could go
to Heaven ! " at which he made an ominous gesture to de-
note that his pockets were empty. Then he spoke of tlie
Bigels, that all their children wished to be present at the
wedding, and when their parents decided to take along
only tl.e oldest, pandemonium broke loose, to end
which it was necessaiy to use some very persuasive argu-
ments, that were not so eloquent as they were painful.
Polanetzki, who had a deep .affection for children, grew
indigujsnt, and said : ••' I will play a trick on them.
Have they gone ? "

*' They were piei)aring' to start a short while ago."
*' All right. I will make them an impromptu visit,
will take the little ones along with me, and will make

300

my next stop at Plavitski's ami there introduce tlie whole
hrood of Bigels to their astonished mother." Alxlidski
expressed his doubt ; he hoped that Pohinetzki \\()uld not
(h) it. Hut the very argument he used was so uukIi oil
to the flame. They entered the cab, tliey went tor the
disappointed children. Their nurse, knowing the iiiii-
mate relations of Polanetzki toward the family of Big*!,
did not dare to gainsay the proposition, and to the great
horror of Panni Bigcl, the groom entered Phivitski's
ai)artnients with all the children, dressed in their eveiy-
day clothes, with collars soiled and disheveled hair, but
witli beaming and happy, if somewhat frightened, little
faces. Approaching Marinya, he kissed her gloved hand
and said : " They conspired to slight the little ones.
Tell me, have I done well?" Marinya liked this
manoiuver as a new evidence of his kindness. She was
delighted at the presence of the children, and even felt a
deep satisfaction when the guests called him the " future
eccentric." Panni Bigel hurriedly arranging the chil-
dren's costumes, repeated dolefully:

" Well, what can I do, what can I do with this maniac ? '*
Plavitski partly entertained the same opinion. But
Polanetzki and Marinya were soon absorbed in each
other, and everything else was lost sight of. Their hearts
beat peacefully; he gazed at her now with amazement,
then with unbounded enthusiasm. Attired in white,
from her shoes to her gloves, with a green wreath crown-
ing her head and a long trailing veil, she seemed to him
another being. There was something unusual in her,
something solemn, as it was with Lida. Of couise, Po-
lanetzki drew no such comparison, yet he felt that the
white Marinya stood further away from him, that she dis-
armed him, and became inaccessible more and more, than
in her ordinary dress. Beside, she lost mucli in appear-
ance ; a vague restlessness and agitation brought a crim-
son flush to her cheeks, which, owing to the white dress,
looked still redder. But, strange thing, just that circum-
stance touched Polanetzki's heart and awoke therein a
feeling akin to compassion. He understood that Marinya's
heart was thiobbitig violently, and he began to calm her,
to speak to her in such tender, caressing words, that he

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finally marveled himself v/liere he got them, and how
freely and easily he made them flow. But they escaped
him so easily, thanks to Marinya herself.

Her own face unmistakably betrayed the fact that
though she gave lierself away with a thiobbing heart, but
at the same time wdth full conhdence, that she offered
him not only her heart, but her very soul, her whole being,
her whole life, not for one brief moment, but through life.
In view of this not a shadow of a doubt clouded the clear
depths of Polanetzki's soul, and this assurance, this })erfect
faith in himself made him at that instant the best, the
kindest, the most sensitive, the most eloquent he had ever
been. Now the thoughts of Polanetzki no longer scat-
tered like sparrows ; he wondered that with all his skepti-
cism, he was so deei)ly affected by the solenniity of the
religious rites. He was not a skeptic in reality. He
longed for these religious emotions, and if he did not
invoke tliem often, it was only due to his carelessness,
because he thought so rarely of religion. But skepticism
only rufHedthe sui-face of his mind, as a light wind I'uflles
and agitates the surface of the sea, wdiile the mysterious
depths remain calm and undisturbed. In the same man-
ner he detested formalities, and yet this ceremony ap-
peared to him so imposing, so grand, so full of serious-
ness and solemnity, that he was prepared to yield to it
Avith bent head. He willingly kneeled beside jViarinya at
the feet of her father, receive(i liis blessing and listened to
his sermon, wliicli happily was very short, because PLwit-
ski was agitated, his voice trembled, and he could hardly
pronounce a sort of invocation, imploring Polanetzki to
love Marinya, and from time to time, at least, in the futuie,
utter a prayer upon his gi'ave, so that the path to it •will
not be overgrown by weeds.

The solenniity of the moment, however, was spoiled by
Yusia Bigel, who, seeing tlie tears of Plavitski, and the
kneeling forms of both Poli;netzki and iMai'inya, a scene
comiected in iiis mind with executions in their own house
M'liere a whip played quite a prominent part, he gave vent
to liis com})assion with the aid of such vehement cries and
outburst of lamentations, of which he was only capable.
When liis tears were becoming contagious, the preparations

nit

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for the departure to church were hastily made. Phivitski'a
allusion to his grave and the i)atli overgrown with weeds,
failed to nuike ihe desired impression. . . .

Sitting in the carriage between Abdul.ski and l^ukat/ki,
Polanetzki could scarce!}" answer in bioken phrases llieir
C[uestions and remarks. He took no interest in their con-
versation, but thought that in a few more minutes would
take place that of whicii he liad dreamed for so many
months, wh.it he craved for louof before Lida's deatli.
Then he began to dream of the reality of Marinya and the
wedding. At the same time Marinya prayed to lier
Heavenly Fatlier, that he grant liappiness to herluisband;
true, she asked a little of it for herself, but si.e was more
than assured that her late sainted mother would take care
of that.

Then they marched to the altar, conducted thither by
the groomsmen, making their way th. rough two rows of
invited friends and curiv)sity-seekers. They saw every-
thing as if through a dense mist, and perceived in the
depth of the church the dindy-burning candles, and the
faces of people, familiar and strange. Tliey both saw
Emilya Chavastovska clad in the white hood of a Sister of
Mercy, her smiling face and eyes lilled with tears, and both
tliought of Lida, w^lio seemed to lead them now to tlie
altar. One moment — and they halted there ; before them
a priest was kneeling at the altar. On the altar numer-
ous candles burned, lighting with their yellowish flame tlie
face of the center image. At last the priest began the
sacred rite; the young couj)le repeating after liim the
words of the ceremou}-. Polanetzki, who held Marinya's
liand, w^as seized with an excitement such as he had never
experienced since his first confession and communion. He
felt that it was only a mei'e rite, in the virtue of which
mang(>tshis right and title to a woman ; but in that joining
of hands, in that promise, there was some mysterious })ower,
in short, God himself, before wdiom they stood with thiob-
bing heart. Soon breaking the solemn silence, they heard
tlie words: "quod Dens junxit, homo non disjungat.'*
Now Polanetzki was satisfied that Marinya belonged to
him, body and soul, that he must be the same to her.
From the gallery where the choir held forth, the organ

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suddenly burst into a sea of luelody, the choir sang " Vsni
Creator," and under its dying sounds the Polanetzkis,
husband and wife, walked out of church.

At the gate Panni Chavastovska embraced Marinya
and said : " God bless you I " Tlie young couple w^re
driven home, and the heartbroken mother went to the
cemetery to tell her LIda that her " Pan Stach " was to-
day married to Marinya.

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CHAPTER XII.

I ;■

Two weeks passed. One morning the porter of the
hotel Bauer in Venice handed Polanetzki a letter with a
Warsaw postmark, at the very moment he entered a gon-
dola with his wife to be rowed to the church of Saint
Mary. That day was the anniversary of the death of
Marinya's mother, and they went to church for early
mass. Knowing that no news of importance could he ex-
pected from Warsaw, lie put the letter in his pocket,
and asked his wife : " Are we not too early for
church ? "

" Yes, we have half an hour yet."

*' Would you like to take a ride through the Rialto?"

Marinya was always willing and ready. It was her
first trip abroad, and she was like one dreaming. Every-
thing seemed to her a golden thought. Often, being
carried away by admiration and enthusiasm, she threw
herself on her husband's neck, as if it was he who laid the
corner-stones of the Venetian temples of art, and that he
alone was to be thanked for the beauty of Venice.

" I look, I see, and I do not believe that it's all really
not a dream," said she.

Owing to the early hour, traffic was light on the Rial to.
The water looked as though wrapped in slumber. The
tlay was calm, bright, but not sunny ; in a word, one of
th(»jjo days when the Grand Canal, with all its beauty and
loveliiicss, is as quiet as a cemetery. The palaces seem de-
serted, neglected ; and in their motionlcvss reflection in the
surface of the waters a profound sadness is felt. It is
then that one gazes at them in silence, fearing to utter a
word, lest that abjolute peace and calm should be dis-
turbed. Marinya gazed at that surface in exultation.
Polanetzki, being less emotional, took the letter from his
pocket and began to read.

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" Ah ! " said he, '* Masliko has been married — their wed-
ding took place three days after ours."

Marinya awoke. Absorbed in lier dreaming, she heard
not what he said, and therefore asked him to repeat.

" 1 said, my [)retty dreamer, that Mashko was married."

'* Wbat do I care for Masliko," replied she, putting her
blonde little head on his shoulders, and gazing into his
eyes, " when 1 have my Stach?"

Polanetzki smiled like a man who permitted others to
love him, but was not a bit astonished at the fact ; then
he kissed his wife's forehead, and devoted himself to the
further perusal of the letter, which, apparently, began to
interest him. But suddenly he shuddered, as if some one
liad stuck a pin into his arm, and loudly exclaimed :

*' What a great calamity ! "

" What has happened ? "

" Panna Kraslovska possesses only an annuity of nine
thousand, left her by her grandfather, but not a cent in
the shape of dowry."

" Well, this is sufficient, aye, too much, even ! "

" Too much ? But listen to what Mashko writes :
* Thanks to this, my bankruptcy is a foregone conclusion,
and the settling of debts a question of time.' Do you
comprehend this? They were both deceived. He
reckoned on her capital ; she, on him."

" Well, they at least possess sufficient means to live on."

'* They have that, and no more, certainly not for the
payment of debts. As to myself, you, and youj* father —
everything may be lost."

Now it was Marinya's turn to become alarmed.

'' Ah, Stach ! " exclaimed she, '' maybe your presence
there i-J imperative. In such case, let us return. It will
be a great blow for papa ! "

"' I will write to Bigel at once, giving liim instructions
to take my ])lace, ; iid save from the crash whatever possi-
ble. But do not take this to your heart, dear. I will
still have enough for Ihe two of us, also for your father."

Marinya embraced lam.

"Ah, how kind you are ! " said she ; " with a man like
you, life will be made happy."

**Aud yet, we may save something. If Mashko goi^i

815

crerlit, ours will be tlie first claim to be paid. Perhaps he
will find a purchaser for Kieinen. He advises me to ask
lUikatzki, to })ersuade him, in fact, to buy the estate. To-
night Bukatzki leaves tlie city for Rome, and I invited
liini to breakfast. I shall ask him. His is a larn-e for-
tune, and he could well iifford to buy it. It would supply
him witli the work he is constantl}' in search of. It will
be interesting to keep posted on the future chapters of
i\Iashko*s married life. He finislied this letter with the
remark : ' I revealed to my wife the real condition of my
affairs; she retained her composure, but her mother is
violent.* He adds, furthermore, thiit he has fallen in love
with his wife, and a separation from her would mean a real
calamity. Tlioufrh it concerns me but little, 1 am curious
to know the end of this peciuiiir romance."

"■ She \vill not abandon liim."

" I do not know. I thought so myself, but now I feel
like arguinof. Will vou bet?"

Do J

" No, because I do not wish to win. You bad man,
have you no idea wliat women are?"

''On the contrary, I know very well that all of them
are not like her who now sits by my side in the gondola."

"In Venice, in a gondola, and beside my Stacli!" ex-
claimed Marinya.

Meanwliile they reached their destination. After mass,
they returned directly to the hotel, and found Bukatzki
tliere, dressed for the journey in a gray, checked suit,
that looked too wide and loose on his thin, emaciated fig-
ure, yellow shoes, and a fantastic scarf, negligently tied.

''I am leaving to-day," said he, greeting Polanetzki.
'' Do you wish me to procure lodgings for you in Flor-
ence ? I am in a position to rent a [)alace."

''Then you will make a halt on the road?"

" Yes. First, so as to notify the people of your coming
and order a rug to be s[)rea(l on the stairs ; second, for
the sake of bhick coffee, which, in general, is very poor
in Italy, but in Florence, at Jeakossi's, one can get along
with it. By the way, tliis is the only thing tliat is well
prepared in Florence."

" What a miserable habit always to say what you don't
mean ! "

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"No, no. I sincerely think of renting apartments for
you in Lung-Arno."

'' We shall take in Verona."

" Oh, for tiie sake of Konieo and Juliet? Go, by all
means, so long as you still enjoy the illusion. May be,
in a month or so, it will be too late."

Panni Polanetzki stamped her little foot, and, turning
to her husband, said:

"Stach, do not allow the gentleman to annoy me; he
is intolerable.'*

" All right ; I shall break his head, but only after he
has had breakfast with us."

In the meantime, Bukatzki recited:

"No, it's not dawning yet,
And 'tis not the lark ; 'tis the song of the nightingale."

Then, addressing Marinya, he asked:

" Has Polanetzki dedicated to you a sonnet?"

" No ! "

" Oh, this is a bad sign ! Look ! You have a balcony
facing the street, and it never occurred to him to take his
position underneath and sing the sweet tuna of a ser-
enade, accompanying it himself on a mandolin?"

'' No ! "

'* Bad ; very bad ! "

" There's no room here ; no place to stand on — water
all around ! "

''That's easily solved. One can approach in a gondola.
We know it not, but here, whoever is in love — really,
sincerely in love — writes sonnets and hies himself to a
convenient spot beneath the balcony, with mandolin in
hand. This becomes an imi)erative duty, ascribed to the
geographical i)Osition, to the waves of the sea, to chemical
elements of the air and water, and whoever writes no
sonnets, nor wields a mandolin under a balcony, is not in
love. I could even show you volumes treating this sul>
ject most learnedly."

" I am afraid Pll liave to wring his neck before break-
fast," remarked Polanetzki.

However, the threat was not brought to a realization,
for breakfast was announced soon after. They wero

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317

served at a separate tabl(\ l)ut in the main dining-liall.
VoY Maiiiiya, who took a lively interest in everything
she saw, this was a rare treat and pleasnre ; she liad a
good opportunity to observe real Englishmen. It all pro-
duced an impression upon her as if she were in some
exotic rejrioji, where no liviiiij soul had ever been before.
This was a source of constant jokes and scatliing remarks
for both Bukatzki and Polanetzki, and the t'io en-
joyed themselves capitally. One said that it reminded
him of liis youth; the otl»er called his wife a field daisy,
and added that it was a pleasure to show such a daisy to
the world.

Bukatzki, however, noticed that the daisy had plenty
of good, refined taste, and sincere liking for art. She
knew many objects from having seen them described in
books and drawings. Having scant knowledge of many
things, she frankly confessed her ignorance, and in that
confession there was nothing artificial, nothing pretended ;
if she liked anj^th.ing, her enthusiasm was sincere and un-
bounded. Bukatzki frequently jjoked fun at her, and
said that all connoisseurs of art possess a peculiarly gifted
mind; that she, as a sensitive and still unspoiled woman,
is to him the guiding star in man}^ questions of art, bu
her opinion and verdict might have been much more valu-
able had she been only ten years old.

At breakfast the discussion of art had given place to
the exchange of news from Warsaw.

"• I received a letter from Mashko," said Polanetzki.

" So did I," replied Bukatzki.

" You? Then Mashko is seriously involved, it seems,
lie must be pressed to the wall, with no prospect of suc-
cor or relief. Do you know of his embarrassment?"

" Yes; he is wasting his eloquence pei'suading me, or,
ratlier, entreating me, to buy from him — do you know
what?"

Bukatzki purposely omitted the mention of Ki'emen,
prompted by delicacy and fear to hurt Marin3'a. He
knew what a source of trouble and unpleasantness it had
created for the two.

Polanetzki conceived the reason of his silence and there-
fore retorted :

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818

*' There was a time when we avoided mentioning that
name, as one fears to touch a sore wound, but now it's
different. One cannot be cautious all his life."

Bukatzki cast a quick glance at Marinya ; she was
blushing.

" Stach is right," said she. "Besides, I understand
thsit Kremen is the subject of his letter."

" You are quite right. Kremen was alluded to. "

" Well, and what is your decision?" asked Polanetzki.

" I will not buy, if only not to create the impression
that Kremen is thrown around like a ball."

Panni Polanetzki blushed more and more. "I never
think of it now."

Her liusband looked at her approvingly, shook his
head and replied :

" Which last fact only proves again that you, are a
sensible child."

"Naturally," continued Marinya, "if Mashko breaks
down, Kremen will be divided into parts, will fall into
the hands of usurers . . . All this is not very pleasant to
contemplate."

"Aha I" exclaimed Bukatzki-— " this means that you
have not forgotten it entirely I "

Panni Pohinetzki cast a restless glance at her liusband,
who laughed gaily :

" You are in for it, dear. He caught you on the word I "
Wherewitli he turned to Bukatzki and added :

" It is evident that Mashko relies on your assistance.
In you he sees his anchor of salvation."

" But I am not an anchor ... I am a straw, and who-
ever grasps it will surely go to the bottom. Besides,
Mashko himself told me : " your nerves are getting dull."
May be, he is right! But just because of this, I am in
need of strong sensations. Were I to assist Mashko, he
might perhaps, land on his feet again, but then he will
surely continue to play the lord, and his wife — the
lady of the upper world. The pair would be too much
comme ilfaut^ which would leave me no alternative but to
look upon the dullest of comedies, which I have seen be-
fore and been in danger of breaking my jaw from yawning.
Well, this won't do ! If I don't help him, he'll be ruined,

319

no doubt ; sometliing extraordinary will occur as a sequel,
some tragedy purha[)S, which will entertain and amuse me
for a wliile. And so, judge for yourself; for a dull, wit-
less comedy I am expected to pay thousands, while I can
see a tragedy' without paying a copper. There is no room
for hesitation here."

'* How can you utter such words ! " ejaculated Panni
Polanetzki.

" Not only can I (7o it, hut I will write the same to
Mashko, for that man received me in the most brutal
manner I "

^' How ? "

'' He made me believe that he was a scoundrel with a
dirty character, heartless, conscienceless. In the mean-
time, it transpires that in some corner of his heart, there
remained a ledge of absolute honest}'; that he wishes to
satisfy his creditors, that he is sorry for that red-eyed doll,
and that parting with her would be an awful blow ! And
all tliis he writes to me in the most shamefaced way!
Wli}' this is an outrage ! Moving in such society as ours,
one cannot be sure of anything. Involuntarily one spends
years abroad, because he cannot endure such things."

Panni Polanetzki was greatly angered.

"If you don't cease to give expression to such views, I
will ask my Stach to sever all relations with you," said
she in a rage.

Polanetzki shrugged his shoulders.

" You are, indeed, a most peculiar man ; you are always
joking and talking nonsense, and will never say a sensible
word, in humane fashion. I do not persuade you to buy
Kremen, though I am interested in it myself to a great
extent, but I must tell y .u, that tlie acquiring of Kremen
might create for you a new field of usefulness, a new
occupation."

Bukatzki burst into laucfhter.

" I told you long ago that, first. I like to do what is
most pleasant to me, and by doing nothing, I am doing so.
And if you are so clevei", prove to my satisfaction where I
liave uttered a folly. Secondly, I become a farmer! How
ridiculous! Why it is above and beyond all comprehen-
eion ! I, to whom fine or rainy weather merely constitute

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320

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a question whether to carry a cane or an umbrella, shall in
my old diiys stand on one foot like a pelican blinking at
the sun, and wait for his pleasure and caprice to warm or
wet the eartli? Shall I be consumed by care and anxiety
about the good or poor crops of wheat, feel wretched if an
infectious plague shall ruin my potato-patch, work like a
slave to gather my beans in time and furnish a certain
Utzka with as many measures of grain as is specified in
the contract, live in constant agony cf fear lest my horses
shall become diseased, and my sheep snow-stormed ? Shall
I come to all that, to become dull and babbling, repeating
constantly after every two or three words: 'so, so my
dearest,' or ' what in the devil did I wish to say,' or, God
knows what not,. . . Voyons ! Pas si bete ! Shall I, a
free man, become gleboe adscriptus, a * dear neighbor, ' a
' brother- farmer, ' a 'dearest Matneinshka,' a 'Lechit.'
No, no, not for anything in the world !"

And Bukatzki, excited by wine and his own eloquence,
recited the words of Sliazafrom the poem " Lilla Veneda:"

, I

" What's that ? Am I a Lechit ?
So drunk and rough to behold.
Do all the vices cling to me ?

'* Here, Here ! Speak to him ! " retortea Polanetzki —
and yet you're partly right."

Marinya sat, thoughtful and silent, and when Bukatzki
finished his monologue about the cares of housekeeping,
she cast off her sad musings, and said: '* During the pro-
tracted illness of ni}'- father who was never as well in
Kremen as he has been the last few years, I could relieve
him but little in his work on the estate. Gradually I be-
came accustomed to it, and even grew to like it. Though
the cares and tribulations were many, they contained an
element of undoubted pleasure, and I was at a loss to under-
stand whence those elements came. I was enlightened by
Pan Yamish. He told me that the whole world, the wel-
fare of the universe, depends upon the labor of the farmer.
All others are either natural consequences, or artificial
meaKs to kill time. Then I myself saw through things
he never mentioned to me. Often, going into the open

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321

field in early spring, I saw everything growing, and I
was conscious that my heart was beating faster with joy.
And the reason is obvious: because in all relations of man
to man, there can be entwined a lie, falseiiood ; but the
earth — is truth itself. You cannot cheat the earth, and
she — whether she will yield the expected crop or not, will
not cheat. I love the earth, as the truth, and because we
love her she teaches us to love . . . The dew falls not
only upon plants in general, but also as it were upon the
soul of mankiiid, that becomes nobler, more perfect.
Dealnig with Truth, one draws nearer to God . . . This is
why I loved my Krenien so well."

And the young woman, frightened at lier own bold
speech, and uncertain of what her Stach would say, became
confused. Her eyes sparkled and shone like bright stars,
and her face mirrored all her hidden thouglits.

Bukatzki gazed at her, as at a newly-discovered Vene-
tian painting, then hid half of his litJtle face in his fantas-
tic scarf, and finally muttered: " Delicieuse ! . . . You
are perfectly right I " protruding his beard from beyond his
scarf.

But the logical young woman would not allow him to
get off with compliments.

" If I am right," said she, " then you are utterly wrong ! "

" That is another story. If you are right, it's only because
it becomes your face so well, and such a woman is always
right."

'' Stach ! " exclaimed she, addressing her husband.

But there was so much cliarm in her. She was so
entirely bewitching, that he fairly devoured her with his
eyes. He was a picture of enthusiasm ; his eyes were
laughing, his nostrils dilated ; he closed her little mouth
with his hand.

" Ah, child ! child ! " repeated he, and bent over her.
" If we were not in the main dining-room, I would cover
these eyes and lips with kisses."

Saying this Polanetzki at that moment made a grave
mistake. It was not sufficient to admire the physical
beauty of Marinya, to exult at the exquisite color of her
face, eyes and lips ; it was necessary to understand her, to
feel with her, to look into the depths of her soul. That
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lie did not sympalliize with licr, was betrayed by his ca-
ressing words : " ehikl I chiUl I "

At that moment, it appeared, he looked upon her as
upon a beautiful cliild, and thoui,dit of nothing else.

Meanwhile coffee was set on the table.

"Pardon me. I was almost on tlie verge of saying
something clever. . . . Pardon, madame. I shall do it no
more. Apparently I scorched my tongue with hot coffee,
and therefore almost made a slii) ; but I drink my coffee
liot on the advice of clever people: they say, it allays
headaches, and my head aches so painfully!"

Bukatzki put his hand on the back of his neck, closed
liis eyes and sat silent in this manner for several secoi'ds.

"Everything is spoken of, discussed over and over, and
my head is aching, oh, how aching ! " added he, " I ought to
go, but the artist Svirski is due here. We're going together
to Florence. This is the famous aquarellist, a man of genu-
ine renown. No one has ever produced such an impression
with aquarelles as he has. There he comes I "

In fact, at the very moment, in the dining-room, as if
called forth by an invocation, appeared Svirski, and began
to look around him for Bukatzki. At last, he caught a
glimpse of him, and approached the tablw. He w\as a well-
built man, of low stature, with a bro; d chest, swarthy face
and raven black hair, like a genuine jtalian. There was
nothing unusual in his face, save for his eyes, which were
full of intellect and tenderness, lie walked to the table
in a rollicking gait, his hips being very broad.

Bukatzki at once addiessed Panni Polanetzki.

" Allow me to present to you," said he, " Pan Svirski, the
artist, almost a genius, who possesses not only great talent,
but the most iTufortunate idea not to use it, which he
could have done as successfully, and with as much useful-
ness for the common good, as the rest of his fellow artists.
But he preferred to fill the world with his aquarelles
and bask in the rays of his gloiy."

Svirski smiled, showing two sets of strong white teeth,
and replied: " I wish it were true ! "

" I will tell you, why Ik; did not 'burn up 'his talent,"
continued Bukatzki: — "■ the reasons are of such an unusual
cliaracter that a respectable artist would be, ashamed to

3-23

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confess. He loves liis v,vs\, liis Pogne])in, situated some-
wliere near Poznan. Am I right? And lie loves it, be-
cause he was hoin there. Had lie been horn in (iuadalupa,
he v'ould have loved that island just as nuich. This love,
hy the way, proved his salvation in life. 'J'his man posi-
tively exasperates me, and, tell me, is it not a shame ?"

Panni Polanetzki looked at Svirski with her blue eyes
and said : *' Pan Pukat/.ki is not as bad as he appears to
he, because he said about you the best one could probably
expect from him."

"'Well, I will at leiist die in peace now," murmured
Bukatzki, — " 1 have at last been understood."

In the meantime Svirski stared at Marinya, as oidy an
artist can, without insulting' a woman. Evidently lie was
gyeatly interested in her, and iinally he muttered:

"You can't see such a jewel of a head here ni Venice.
This is absolutely marvelous, fabulous!"

*^ What's that?" asked P.ukatzki.

" I said, that Madame Polanetzki is a peculiar type.
For instance, this (and he passed his finger over his own
nose, lips and chin) and what j^urity of features ! "

" Is it not true? " exclaimed Polanetzki enthusiastically,
"I always thought the same ! "

" I bet that you never thought of it," challenged
Bukatzki.

Polanetzki was proud that his wife attracted the atten-
tion of a noted artist, therefore he added : ''If it will give
you pleasure to paint her portrait, it wdll give me a still
greater one to buy it."

"I w^ould gladly do it," sim})ly replied Svirski, "but
to-day I leave for Rome, where I have already begun the
portrait of Panni Osnovski."

" We shall be there in about ten days."

" All right; it's a bargain."

Marinya blushed to her very ears, and thanked the
artist.

Bukatzki bade the Polanetzkis farewell, and took Svirski
along with him.

*'We have plenty of time yet," said he, on reaching
the street. " Let's go in to Florian and have a glass of

cognac.

.j'l.i

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i ;

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Biikatzki could not and llkt.l not to drink ; but ever
Biiice he had become a morphine fiend, he drank more
than was good for him, for some one told him that cognac
weakened the action of morphine.

*^ What a pleasant couple these Polanetzkis are," said
Svirski,

" They liave been married only recently."

" lie dearly loves his wife. When I praised her he
was immensely delighted, and grew a size taller.'*

" She loves him a hundred times more."

'' How do you know ? "

Bukatzki did not answer the question directly, but
raising his sharp nose, continued, as if to himself :

'^Tliese marriages and love-affairs were always loath-
some to me, because on one side there are always demands,
on the other, self-abnegations, sacrifices. An illustration:
Polanetzki is a good man, but she possesses just as much
wit and character as he does ; tlic refore, their life will be
formed in the following fashion : He will be her sun, that
will shed his rays upon her, give her warmth and tender-
ness ; he will deem her his property, a sort of miniature
planet, as it were, which must circle round him — and it's
already beginning. She has already entered his sphere.
There is lodged witliin him a certain self-confidence that
enrasfes me. He will own her and her income. She will
own him — without an income. He will allow himself to
be beloved, considering this love a virtue, a caress, a kind-
ness ; and she will love him, and deem this love a happi-
ness, a duty. Look at liim — at this beaming little god!
1 really am consumed with a desire to go back and tell
tliem that, but I am afraid to mar their happiness."

Conversing, they reached Florian's, sat at a table, and
a moment later were served with cognac. Svirski was
meditating for some time, then he said:

" And if she is really made happy by such a love? "

'* Siie would have been just as happy with a new pair of
eyeglasses ; she is near-sighted."

" (lO to Hades ! This would not become her."

" Ah, you detest tliis. I — tlie other ! "

" Because your head is like a coffee-grinder, which
grinds and grinds, until everything is reduced to a fine

325

powder. Well, speaking generally, what do you require
of love ? "

'' I — require of love ? Absolutely nothing, my dear ;
and may the devil take him who wants anything from
love ! I am sick and lame, and dejected from that very
hiiine disease. But were I another man, conld I but dehne
what love ought to be, and had I desired anything from
lier, I would wisli "

'. Well— what? Go it, my lad ! "

" That love might consist of two equal parts — desire
and respect."

He emptied his glass of cognac, and added :

"I think I said something clever, if not foolish. How-
ever it is, I really don't care ! ""

'*■ No, it was not at all foolish.'*

" I tell you, 1 don't care I "

■ ■J* J*-

'^'"

326

kv-r

M I-.:

■i

CHAPTER XIII.

^i;

' 1

1^ -

L ,

One week after his arrival in Florence, Polanetzki re-
ceived a letter from Bigel, })ertaiiiiiig- to the business of
their firm. It contained such favorable news that it sur-
passed all his expectation. Tlie law forbidding the ex-
porting of grain abroad liad already been published, but
there was a great amount -of grain in their jiossessio?!
which tliey managed to export before the publication of
the impei'ial decree, and, as the prices abroad at once
took an upward jump, the two partners achieved a great
success. The speculation, begun on a large scale, i)rov('(l
so profitable tliat tliey became at once not oidy well-to-do,
but rich. Though Polanetzki felt assured from the start
that the speculation would yield them large gains, he re-
joiced at the news for two reasons, from both the financial
stand[)oint, and from the standpoint of his own vanily.
Success always strengthens one s belief in himself. He
oould not help boasting of his good luck before his wife,
convincing her that he was a man of no average capabil-
ity; that he was far superior to his environments. Natu-
rally, he found in lier a sympathetic listenei", ready and
willing to accept anything for the genuine coin.

'' You are a woman, ^' said he, with just a hint at superi-
ority, "and I will not proceed to burden you with all
unnecessary details or make explanations. I will give
you a plain illustration : Yesteiday I was not in a posi-
tion to buy for yon that medallion with the black jewel
we botli saw at Godon's ; but to-day it shall be yours."

The wife thanked him, and begged him not to buy it,
but lie, kissing her, insisted that it was a decided ques-
tion, that she would be the owner of that jewel, which
would grace her white neck so bewitchingly.

** I will not discuss peo])le who do nothing," continuctl
he, smiling and pacing the room. " For instance, Bukat-

3tzki re-
siness of
it it siii-
; the ex-
(lied, 1)111
Dssessio!!
nation of

at once
I a great
3, piovcil
ell-to-do,
the start
IS, he re-
linaiK'ial
1 vaiiilv.
elf. lie
his wife,

capai)il-
Natu-
eady and

it supcri-
with all
vill give
n a posi-
ck jeuel
ours."
o hiiy it,
ed ques-
el, wliieli

ontiiiued
e, Bukat-

327

zki, who is known as a never-do-well, or such asses like
ivopovski. I will take such people that, from a casual
view, seem to be able and clever. Say, Bigel, for instance.
It never struck him to grasp this ::lea. He would begin
lo ponder, to calculate, to postpone, to fear, and let time
llv away. And the whole thing is what? One must be
slirewd, take a [)encil, and make a liglitning calculation.
If you do a thing, do it quickl}-, or give it up. Of course,
one must be prudent, sober, not to pretend or pose.
TliDUgh Mashko seems not to be stupid, yet see what a
mess he got himself iiito ? I shall not follow in his steps."

Pacing tlie room, he shook his black curls. Marinya
iislened to him with perfect conlidence.

In Rome he ceased to thiidv of his own greatness. His
l)rain was crowded with so many outer impressions, that
there was no more room for such reflections. Once, re-
turning home with Marinya, tired from a long day's sight-
seeirjg, he recalled unwillingly the words of Bukatzki,
who, in the capacity of their guide, often declared; "You
liave not seen a thousandth part of what is worth seeing;
hut tins is all right, as one is foolish to come here, just as
he is b ilisli to stay at home."

Bukatzki was frequently afflicted with contradictory
moods, and contradicted every opinion of his own, which
he athrmed tenaciously only a while befoi'e. Professor
Vaskovski came to them from Perugia. This visit gave
Marinya so much delight that she gi'eeted him as she
would a relative. However, after the first impulse of joy
was over, she noticed a ofloom in the old man's eves.

What is ailing you?" asked she. "don't you get along

O 5?

well in Italy

"No, my child," replied he. " In Perugia, as in Rome,
life is very good — oh, how good I Wandering through
these streets, one thinks that lie tramples under foot the
dust of the entire world. This is, as I once said, the

tlireshold, the ante-chamber, to another woild, only — "

"Only what?"

"Oidy the peojde — of course, not from malice — because
here, like everywhere, there are more good people than
had — but it pains me to see that here, as in our own land,
people think me insane."

■a.

:}■■ ;.i

:"1i:.

328

■-a

■i n

■

i ■'.

<l'*'l

" Then you have no more reason to be sad here than at
home ? " said Bukatzki.

" Yes. Only there I still have friends, like you, who
love me, but here — And then, I am homesick."

And the old man turned to Polanetzki.

" Local papers have published reviews of my book" in
their columns. Sonif. of them plainly ridicule it — God be
with them ! Others agree that a new era must begin b ;:
the reincarnation of Christ and His spirit into action. Oiio
of the critics admitted that individuals live among then;
in Christian manner, while nations live like heretics.
They called my doctrine great, but even he, discussing
what I said about the mission being entrusted by God
Himself to the youngest of his own, laughed till his sides
would split. And this is insulting. They evidently want
me to understand that there is something the matter with
me here."

And poor Vaskovski rapped his forehead. However,
after a pause, he added; " Of course, a man often throws
a seed into the ploughed ground witli great misgiving, but
it takes root, rises above gromid, and yields fruit."

Then he began to inquire about Panni Chavastovska, .and
finally, casting a fond glance at the young pair, he asked,
naively :

*' Well, and how are you ? Do you live well together ? "

Instead of an answer, Marinya ran to her husband, and,
pressing her head to his breast, whispered :

*' See how well ! Do you see, professor? "

Polanetzki tenderly patted her head with his hand.

I '

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329

ban at
d, who

■.■- .i;:'-:.>v^

ook in
God b(.
3giu hy
1. Ouy^
g tlieiv.
levetics.
cussing
by God
lis sides
,ly want
ter witli

[owever,
ii throws
^ing, but

•

rska, and
,e asked,

ether ? "
ind, and,

and.

CHAPTER XIV.

A WEEK later Polanetzki took his wife toSvirski, whom
they now met daily, and whom tliey learned to like more
and more. He was now about to begin work on lier
portrait. They found there Pan and Panni Osnovski,
whose acquaintance it- was easy to renew, as tliey met
before at some formal affair. Once Polanetzki was pre-
sented to Panni Osnovski at Ostende, and now he recalled
the fact to her. He did not remembei', however, the
exact time it happened, but it probably took place during
that period of his life when, at the sight of every girl, he
queried himself : " Will this be my wife ? " Then she was
a very pretty, though somewhat frivolous, girl. She was
now about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old. Tall,
with a fresh, dark face, cherry lips, long hair done up in
braids, and partly crooked eyes, she resembled a Japanese,
with a knack for mischief, and a venomous tongue. She
behaved very strangely, shrugged lier shoulders, and
stuck otit her chest, the result of which was a figure nick-
named by Bukatzki "en effrande." No sooner did she
form the acquaintance of Marinya than she began to chat,
and babble, trying to convince Marinya that they ought
to become intimate friends, because they posed for the same
painter. To Polanetzki she intimated that she remem-
biMed bin' at the ball at Ostende as being a lovely dancer ;
that she was now delighted to avail herself of liis invita-
tion, and to both she declared that she was elated to form
their acquaintance ; that Rome intoxicated her ; that she
read " Cosmopolis ; " that she is enamored of the villa
Doria, and the paintings of Pincio; she hoped to visit to-
Lcetiier with them the Catacombs, with which slie is
funiili.ir, the woi'ks of Rossi, etc., etc. And then, giving
her hand to Svirski, and coquettishly smiling to Polanetzki,
she went away, with the explanation, that she yielded her

330

''■■

L!&i

■

' ■,

■' ■^.•

^ ^:

place to one more worthy than herself, leaving behind her
an impression of a storm, a Japanese, and an odor of
flowers. Pan Osnovoski, still a very yonng- man, with a
connnon[)lace bnt kind blonde face, scarcely ntteied a woi-d,
and trailed along after her. Svirslri heaved a deep sigh.

*' There is a storm for you!" exclaimed he, "it's im-
possible to keep lier quiet for two minutes. . . . She's a
real burden to me."

*' But what an interesting face!" interfered Marinya.
*' May I see her portrait ? "

'' Yes, vou can see it now, it's all but finished."

The Polanetzkis ap[)roachcd the easel, uid for a moment
stood speechless from admiration. The head done in
aquarelle produced the impression of an oil painting in
which was expressed the spiritual warmth of the whole
beino- of Panni Osnovski. Svirski listened calndv to their
lavish praise, and was, apparently, delighted with his work.
Then he covered the portrait, carried it away into a dark cor-
ner of the room, seated Panni Polanetzki in a chair and
began to examine her closely. She was confused b}' that
fixed sfaze and she blushed, but Svirski smiled and in self-
contentment, muttered: " Yes, this is altogetiier another
type — a wide contrast — heaven and earth ! "

At times he closed one eye, and, what perplexed Marinya
still more, approached the paper, then made a few steps
backwards, again riveted on lier his glance, and spoke as
if to himself : '' There I had to catch the devil, to squeeze
the life out, here there is a fascinating femininity."

'' As long as you have discovered it at once," remarkiMl
Polanetzki, *' we can rest perfectly assured that tlio
portrait will be a creation of art."

Svii'ski ceased looking at Marinya, and turning to Pola-
netzki, laughed merrily, showing his strong white teeth.

"Yes," said he, "perfect femininity, and this is tlio
main feature of your wife's face."

" And you will catch it, as you caught the devil in that
other porti-ait."

" Stach ! " exclaimed INIarinya.

" But these are not my words, they belong to Pan
Svirski."

" If you prefer it, we will call her not a devil, but a

831

ul her

or of

word,

t's iin-
>lie's a

\rinya.

loment
one in
ting in
! whole
to their
is work,
iark cor-
jiir and
by that
t in self-
another

Marinya
\v steps
poke as
squeeze

3marke(l
hat the

■e

to Fola-
te teeth.
As is tiio

dl in that

cr to Pan
ivil, but ^

little devil. . . . And a pretty, though dangerous little
devil, she is. Generally, when drawing, I like to observe
various objects. Paiini Osnovski is a weiy curious type."

"Wliy?"

'' Have you noticed her husband ? "

"Very little, I was interested in the woman."

" You see ! she always shuts him out of view with her
own personage, he is scarcely visible. But the worst
thing is, that she herself sees him not. And yet he is an
honest chap, splendidly educated, well bred, extremely
delicate, rich, and by no means a fool, besides his love for
her borders on insanity."

Svirski began to work, and distractedly added:

" Yes — ou insanity — arrange your hair at the ear, please.
If your husband is talkative, he will shortly be in despair.
Hukatzki said that as soon as I begin to work, I am
always chatting, giving no one a chance to utter a word.
You see, she, Panni Osnovski, might be as pure as a tear,
1)11 1 she's a terrible coquette. Piers is a cold Iieart and
a llaming head. A dangerous tyi)e,a very dangerous type.
She, one might say, swallows books, and of course, Fiench
novels. In them she studies })sychology, gets her infor-
mation about female temperaments, their problematic
character, seeks to discover riddles in herself, which slie
has not, finds qualities of which she was unconscious but
yesterday, considers herself clever, and neglects her hus-
haiid.

" But, you are a terrible man ! " remarked Marinya.

" Yes ! Yes ! " sai'^ Polanetzki, "my wife will hide her-
self to-morrow, wdien it is time for the sitting."

'' Why hide yourself! This is another type altogether.
Osnovski is not a fool, but people, and moreover with your
IKM mission, women, are often so dull-witted, that if some-
Ixidy's mind and wit does not attack the nose, if the man
is somewhat in doubt of his own faculties, if he does not
sciatch like a cat, does not cut like a knife, they do not
iil)[)reciate such a man. I have observed that hundreds
of times in my life."

Svirski closed one eye, looked again at Marinya, and
continued: " And how foolish is our human society in
general ! I often put the question to myself : ' Why

/•^

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832

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:-%

u-!i

';:i!

1 -I

!, Jt-U

i • . t-

Li.«

are honest characters and kindness estimated at a lower
standard than sense, cleverness ? Wliy are there in our
social life two different epithets : smart or foolish, and
why not use instead : honest or dishonest.

'• Because the mind is a lantern which lights tlie patli
of honesty and kindness, the path of tlie heart, puie
and tender," protested Tohmetzki, "or else without it we
would break our noses, or, what's worse, ^vould break
somebody else's."

Marinya said nothing, but on her beaming face one
could read the words :

" Oh, how clever is my Stach."

" Of course, I do not speak of Osnovski," added he,
* because I know him not."

" Osnovski loves his wife — like a wife, like his child,
like his dearly-bought happiness, while her head is full of
God-knows-what trash, and she does not pay him with
mutuality. Being a bachelor, I take great interest in the
fair sex, therefore I discuss this couple day after day,
especially witli Bukatzki, as long as they attracted his at-
tention, which now seems to be on the wane. Bukatzki
divides the dear ladies of her calibre into spiritual plebe-
ians — shallow little souls, and spiritual patricians — noble
characters filled with higher ideas, based on principles,
not on phrases. And he is partly right ; still I prefer to
make a more simple division, namely, grateful and un-
grateful creatures."

Again he stepped back from the easel, closed one eye,
took a small looking-glass, looked at the reflection of the
portrait, and continued:

*'• Vou will ask what I understand b}^ grateful and un-
grateful hearts," he addressed Marinya. "A grateful heart,
in my estim..tion, is that which feels that it is loved,
which is permeated with that love, which pays love with
love, appreciates it and respects it; an ungrateful heart
seeks only love, and the more it is certain of, the less it
pays attention to it, the more it neglects and tiam})U's
it under foot. It is suthcient to fall in love with tin un-
grateful woman, that slie should cease to love. The fish-
erman worries but little about the fish entangled in his
meshes, just as little as Osnovski cares for her husband.

Svii'sJ
weath
full

discus

Svirsk

inome

ter on

knew

that tl

•intiqn

i';ii ki

^vmpa

and til

sketch

338

■h

^ ' \^<

It is, indeed, the most vulgar, rough form of egoism,
truly Arabian, and therefore God sa i Pan Osnovski,
and punish the wife with her Japanese eyes of the color
of sweet violet, and grotesque coiffure. To paint her
i)oitiait is bad enough, but to marry her, that's absurd !
Vou would not believe in what abject terror I am of
ungrateful women. That is why I am a bachelor still,
although I have seen forty summers."

" Yes ; but such women ought to be easily recognized,**
remarked Panni Polanetzki.

" Hardly — especially when a man, being in love, loses
his head." And Svirski, bending back his athletic figure,
gazed critically at the sketch, and added:

" Well, that will do for to-day. I chatted and prattled
so long tliat all the flies perished from fright. To-morrow,
as soon as you feel bored with my chatter, please clap
your hands. I do not waste much breath with Panni
Osnovski — she speaks for both of us. And what a be-
wildering number of names of books she mentions during
one hour's conversation. Well, but this is not important.
What did I want to say ? Ah, yes ; that you have a grate-
ful heart."

Polanetzki burst out laughing, and invited Svirski to
dinner, having promised to invite Bukatzki andVaskovski
also.

" I am delighted to accept your invitation," replied
Svirski, " because I am perfectly lonely here. And as the
weather is excellent, I propose to take advantage of the
full moon and look at the Coliseum by moonliglit."

" The dinner was not marked by the peculiar eccentric
discussion of Bukatzki — he did not come, he was ill —
Svirski and Vaskovski liked each other from the very first
moment, and became fast friends. vSvirski loved to chat-
ter only when at his work, at all other times he liked and
knew how to listen to others. Notwithstanding the fact
that the old pedagogue appeared to him. comical with his
antiquated views, he saw in him, however, so much natu-
ral kindliness and sincerity that he could not help but
sympathize witli him. He was struck by his mystic face
and the expression of his eyes. Making mentally a rough
sketch ot his portrait on visionary paper, he listened to his

)•■"

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334

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pwi i

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••■' ■>,'*'

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pet ai'o^uments about tlie yoimcfest of the Aryans, aiul
thought how nice it would l)e to catcl) an opportune mo-
ment and reproduce tliis Iiead on canvas or paper.

Toward the end of the dinner Vaskovski asked Panni
Pohmetzki if slie wished to see the Pope, adding that in
three days there will arrive in Rome the Belgian pilgrims,
which they could all join. Svirski, who knew the wholf
of Rome, and most of the Monsignors, assured them thai
lie could arrange it very easily. The old man glanced ai
him attentively, then asked: "Then you are a genuine
Roman ? "

" Yes ; for sixteen years."

'* So. Pardon me."

Vaskovski became confused; he feared to make a
blunder. However, yearning to know how and what to
think of such a sympathetic man, he overcame his timidity
and inquired:

" Are 3''0u from the Quirinal or the Vatican ?"

" I am from Pognebin, Poland," replied Svirski with a
frown.

Dinner was at an end, which put also an end to further
conversation and explanation. Panni Polanetzki could
scarcely sit at the table, highly elated at the thought that
she would see in the moonlight the Ca[)itolium, the
Forum, and the Coliseum. A couple of hours later they
rode down the Corso, lighted by electricity, toward the
historical ruins. The night was calm and warm, and tlie
vicinity of the Forum and Coliseum was deserted, nhicli
happens often even in the daytime. In the neighborhood
of the temple Santa Maria Liberatrice, some one was playing
a flute, at an open window. In the perfect stillness of the
night, every note, was distinctly heard. Over the front pai t
of the Forum, a deep shadow fell from the mound and the
Capitolium. The farther facade was flooded in a bright
green light, as well as the Coliseum, which, from a distance,
looked silvery. The carriage halted near the arches of the
gigantic circus. All went inside and advanced toward
the center of the arena, dodging through the dirt, frag-
ments of colunms, niches, piles of brick, stones, and low
arches. Being under the awe-inspiring impression of
emptiness and silence, no one could utter a word.

Uicr
o

liun(
univi
won
deni(
Pete
with
ruinj
the
wher
O]

SOUU'

Santi

the a
Bi
for h
nian

liumJ
certal

335

Through the arclies penetruted tlie pale rays of the moon,
whicli seemed to rest on the tloor of tlie arena, on tlie
^valls, the stoops, craeks in llie walls, on the silvery moss
that covered here and there tlie majestic ruins. Some
})arts of tlie edifice, wra[)ped in impenetrable darkness,
jiroduced the impression of black, mysterious 0})en-
ill^'•s. Fiom the openings midst the dirt and rubbish,
breathed the cold and dampness of ruin and solitude.
The colossal ruin, it seemed, lost its real, original form,
and became a dreamy vision, or, rather, a quaint, })eculiar
impression, made u[) of the stillness of night, the full
moon, and sad memories of tlie great epoch full of blood
and misery. Svirski lirst broke the gruesome silence, say-
ing, in dreamy a voice :

" What an ocean of tears, what torture, what tragedy !
Let men say whatever they please, but in Christianity
there was a good deal of the supeihuman, the unnatural —
and this no one can deny. Think ye," added he, address-
ing Panni Polanetzki, "of all the power, the whole
world, millions of people, iron laws, force, organization
never surpassed before, greatness, glorj^ hundreds upon
hundreds of legions, a gigantic people that ruled the
universe, and that Palatin that governed tlie city ! It
would appear that no power on earth could destroy or
demolish it ; and yet two men there came, two a2)ostles,
Peter and Paul, not with w'eapons in their hands, but
with mighty words on tlieir li'^s — and there, look upon the
ruins : at the Palatin — ruins ; on the Forum — ruins ; over
the entire city, ruins, and crosses, crosses, crosses every-
where ! "

Once more silence ensued, broken onl}' by the caressing
sounds of the flute that came from the direction of the
Santa Maria Liberatrice.

" There was a cross here," said Vaskovski, pointing to
the arena, '' but they destroyed it."

But Polanetzki thouglit of Svirski's words, for they had
for him a more subtle meaning than they could have for a
man who overcame his spiritual strife.

"" Yes, indeed, there is in all this something super-
human," said he, re[)lying to Svirski's words — ''as if a
certain Truth looked into vour eves like this moon."

i. " /''*" •*

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336

?'. .

They were approaching thb uxit, when suddenly on the
outside there was lieard the clattering of horses' hoofs,
and in the dark niche leading to tlie centre of the arena
echoed steps loud and distinct, and a moment later two
dark figures came out from the shadow into the light.
One of them was attired in a gray dress, which in the
l)ale glimmer of the room sparkled like steel, and drawing
nearer to take a better view, suddenly called out : " Good
evening! What a lovely night! We, too, came to
admire the old ruins of the Coliseum. But, what a
wonderful night ! "

Polanetzki recognized the voice of Panni Osnovski.
She spoke, however, in a tone so soft, as the flute, the
sounds of which reached them from a distance.

" I will soon begin to believe in forebodings," added
she, " because, coming here, I felt sure of finding familiar
faces. But what a marvelous night I "

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837

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■ ■ . ■: V

CHAPTER XV.

On their return to the hotel, the Polanetzkis, to their
iiniiizemeiit, found the caUiug-Ccird of the Osnovskis.
They felt embarrassed, for, being younger, it was their
duty to make the first call. They decided, however, to
repay them in a visit on the following day. Bukjitzki,
who had known the Osnovskis for some time, notwith-
standing the poorcondicion of his health (he could scarcely
drag his feet), could not refrain from poking fun at tlie
interesting pair, as bOon as he was left alone with
Polanetzki.

"She will flirt with you to her heart's content, but if
you think that she will fall in love with you, you are
sadly mistaken. She somewhat resembles a razor. She
wants a leather-strap for smoothing its keen edge, and in
this case you will be that strop."

" I have no desire to accept this oflice, and, besides, it's
too early in the game."

"Too early? Then you hope for a future?

" No ; this means that I think of something else ; that
I love Marinya too nuich, that Panni Osnovski will
sooner lose her keenness on me than improve herself."

In saying this Polanetzki was perfectly sinceie ; his
thoughts were really occui)ied with something else; lie
was too honest to betray his wife ; at any rate, it was too
early to think of that. He felt so confident in himself
thiwt he would gladly stand tlie test, and rejoice in the con-
viction that Panni Osnovski broke lier pretty teetli on
him. After breakfast the Polanetzkis went to Svirski's
studio. The sitting did not last long, for Svirski had to
1)H present at a certain gathering of artists, and lie was in a
hurry. They returned home, and a quarter o.'* an hour
later Pan Osnovski arrived. After a brief conversation
with him, Polanetzki was carried away with an impres-

•( A

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■ U

sion of fellow-feeling bordering on pit} ; At tlie same
time, Panni Polanetzki felt toward the man a lively sym-
pathy and interest. She wa« subdned by his goodness,
delicacy, and his affection for his wife. It seemed to her
tliat all the good qualities he possessed were stamped on
liis fairly-handsome face. After a formal greeting, Os-
novski began to converse with Polanetzki, with the air
and freedom of a man accustomed to good society.

" I come to you on an errand of my wife, with a proposal.
Thank Heaven tiiat the ceremony of visits is disj)ensed
with, though, to be frank, it ought not be observed abioad.
But to return to ihe proposal: we want to go to-day to
tlie church of Saint Paul, and then to Tre Fontane, located
bej^ond tlie city. Tliis is a curious monastery, that h.. j
a beautiful view of the surroundincfs. We would be de-
lighted to have you accompany us."

Polanetzki knew that his wife v/as always ready to ven-
ture on all possible excursions, but at the same time he
thouGfht: "if Panni Osnovski wants to break her teeth on
me — let her ! "

"I willingly accept," replied he, "but I don't know how
my superior authority will look upon this invitation."

But the "superior authority" was not sure that the
"subaltern" spoke sincerely, and only seeing him smile,
dared to decide : " I am delighted, Pm sure, but will it
not be too much trouble to vou?"

" On the contrary, we will be pleased, and in a quarter
of an hour you may ex[)ect us here."

And indeed at the time a])pointed, they were all on the
way to Tre Fontane. The Japanese eyes of Panni Osnov-
ski spaikled with pleasure. Attired in a dress of the
('oh:)r of Iris, and a manteau over Iier slim waist, she could
be called the eighth wonder or a mermaid.

Before tliey reached St. Paul, Pohuietzki could not com-
prehend in what manner Panni Osnovski, wlio spoke not
a woi'd, ins[)ired him with the thouglit, or iiistilltMl within
him the itlea :

"Though your wife is a dear little wonian, she is a
provincial after all ; as to my hul)l)y — he does not ('(uint.
Oidy we two can understanil eacli other and excliange
impressions."

same
sjni-
(1 II ess,
o Ijor
ed on
U Os-
le air

339

However, lie determined to tease her.

When th^y reached St. Paul, which Panni Osnovski
persisted in calling, " San Paolo fuori le mura," her hus-
band wanted to stop the driver, but she letorted :

" We shall halt here on our homeward trip. We will
know then how much time we can spare, but now let us
go to Tre Fontane.

She then turned to Polanotzki and added;

" There are in that monastery an abundance of good
things, concerning which I was going to ask you somv^
questions."

" Your questions will be fruitless," replied Polanetzki.
" I am not a savant."

It was soon proven that Osnovski knew more than the
rest about t^ie various places and monuments. Poor man !
from morning to night he labored conscientiously i laking
a study of the guide-book to be of use to his wife vUid gain
her favor and admiration for his knowledge. But she
heeded not his ex[)lanations only because they were made
by him. She was more pleased with Polanetzki's con-
fidence in liimself and his declaration that he had no idea
of antiquities.

Beyond St. Paul opened a view of Campagna with lier
water-dams and water system, and canals which seemed
to hurry into the city, and fui'ther into the Albanian moun-
tains, lost in the blue distance. Panni Osnovski gazed
dreamily at the lofty mountains and finally asked:

"Tfave you ever been at Albani and at Nemi ? "

"No," replied Polanetzki — "the sitting at Svii-ski's
shortens our leisure time, and we cannot undertake long
excursions, till tlie i)ortrait is finished."

"We have been there already, but if vou intend to fr<\
pray, take me alone;-, will you? I Jiope, you will pci-
mit?" turning to Mai'inj'a. " Thouoli I will be, as the
saying goes, the fifth wlu^el in the carriage, but it really
matters not. Besides, I will sit vci'y quietly in a corncu*
of your caniage a!ul not a word will T utter- — not-a-vvord.
All right?"

"Oh, cliild I child!" interposed Osnovski.

"]\Iv liusband does not believe; tlmt I am enchant*'! l)v
Nemi, but it's ft fact, F am indeed deeply in love with it.

■ ]

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340

Wiu;; T wns llieie, it seemed to me, that Christianity had
never leuclied that' enchanted spot, that at night priests
came out and performed over the blue lake theif heretic rites
and ceremonies. In short, silence, mystery — this is Nemi.
You will not believe, that when I was there, I was sud-
denly seized with a desire to becoirse a hermitess, and that
yearning has never vanished. I would build me a tent on
the banks of the lake, would walk around in a long gray
dress, resembling the garment of St. Francisco d'xVssisi,
and barefooted, too. Oh, what wouldn't I give to become
an hermitess ! . . ."

" And what would have become of me, Anette? " asked
the husband, half seriously, half jokingly.

'* You would soon become consoled ! " she answered
curtly.

" Naturally," she continued, " I would have to subsist
on alms, and therefore, from time to time, come in con-
tact with people ; and if you came to Nemi, I would come
up to you and whis[)er slowly and appealingly :

" Un soldo ! Un soldo ! "

She held out to Polanetzki her small hand, and humbly
repeated : " Un soldo per la povera, un soldo ! "

And she looked into his e3'es, while her husband ex-
plained to Panni Polanetzki. "The name Tre Fontane is
applied to the place because it possesses three springs.
St. Paul was executed there, and since then a legend exists
that the apostle's head bounded upward three times, and
on those places springs were formed. Tlie whole locality
belongs to the Trappists. Before it was dangerous to
spend a night there, the place reeked witli fever, but the
infectious disease has vanished since the mountains Imve
been planted with large forests of eucalyptus trees. There
you can see them already with the naked e3'e ! ''

In the meantime Panni Osnovski, leaning back and
slightly closing her eyes, said to Polanetzki :

" The air of Rome intoxicates me, and I am like one
insane. I am by no means exacting or pretentious at home,
being contented with what life gives us, but here I am
glowing demoralized. 1 feel tliat I lack sometliing . . .
Yet I know not what it is myself. Here ihe air is full of
forebodings, misgivings, . . . one constantly yearns for

341 '

something. May be it is not nice, not proper. May be,
1 am not in place. But I always spoke and do speak now
whatever I mean. When I was a tot I was called naive.
I ought to ask my hubby to take me away from liere.
Perhaps it will be best to live in our own close narrow
sliell, like a turtle or a bivalve."

"Only turtles and clams thrive well in shells, but not
birds, especially birds of paradise, of wliich the saying
goes that they were legless, and therefore cannot either
stand or sit, but are compelled to fly and fly forever."

" A beautiful saying ! " replied Panni Osnovski, and
raising her hands began to wave them, as with wings,
adding :

" And always so, in the air, in the air !"

She was flattered by that comparison, at the same time
she was astonished that Polanetzki spoke in almost serious
tone, almost ironically. He began to interest her, because
she discovered in him more intelligence than she expected.
She also understood, however, that it would be much more
uifhcult to conquer him than she thought.

At last they reached their destination, they visited the
garden, the church, tlie chapel, in which under the ground
three springs were throbbing full of life.

Osnovski communicated to them all the information he
obtained from his guide-book, in his monotonous voice.
Panni Polanetzki listened attentively.

"However," thought Polanetzki, "to live witli this man
tluee hundred and sixty-live days a year must be a hard
task."

This last circumstance partly extenuated Panni Os-
novski in his eyes, wlio, playing the bird of paradise,
did not rest a moment on the earth or on any other ol)ject.
First of all she drank some liquor of eu(;alyptus, brewed at
the monastery, to be used as a mean of prevention against
fever, then declared tliat if she were a man, she v/ould
would positively become a Trapi)ist, then she recollected
that she liked the occu[)ation of seamen — " always between
skies and water — ^just like the inlinite." At last she ex-
pressed tlie desire to become a famous writer, who realis-
tically characterizes the emotions of the soul, semi-
conscious feelings, untold wishes, all forms, colors and

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342

slijules. Then those present were led into the secret, that
she kept a diary, which "that most respectable Yuzia"
considers perfect, but she knows that it is worthless, slie
has no pretensions of being an authoress and ridicules
both her Vnzia and her diary.

In the meantime '•'•Yuzia" looked at her wdth loving
eyes and an expression of boundless love on his face.

" Well, as to tlie diarj'," protested he—" you really must

excuse me

They departed from Tre Fontane before sunset. Long
shadows fell from the trees upon the earth. The sun be-
came large and red. The distant waters of the reservoirs
and the Albanian mountains gleamed in the pink light.
Whe!i the bells at St. Paul called to evening prayers, they
were halfway from the church. Soon after the first peal,
came another, a third, a tenth. All churches joined their
voices, until at last it seemed as if the air was merged into
one grand sound, and with it shouted forth not only the
city, but the suburbs, the mountains, dales, and forests.

Polanetzki gliinced at the face of Marinj-a, liglited by
the golden shimmer of the setting sun. It was calm and
peaceful. She iiad, apparently, just finished her prayer.
She smiled and asked:

" Why are you so quiet and silent ? '*

" Because we are all silent."

In fact, they were all silent, but for various reasons.
Wlien Polanetzki was absorbed in his thoughts, Panni
Osnovski "attacked" him several times with her eyes and
words. He answered rarely, one word out of ten, and her
glances he hoeded not, in sliort, he simply ignored her,
slighted her. Negligent, careless answers she could for-
give, but his inattention to lier ardent glances seemed to
her too audacious, and to avenge herself, she decided to
pay him in the same coin. However, as a well-bied
woman she evinced a still greater friendship for his wife.
She inquired how the Polanetzkis intended to spend the
following day, and being informed that they would be at
the Vatican, she declared, that her husband had also
cards of admission, of wliich they would both avail them-
selves.

^' Po you," inquired she, " know how to dress for this

»»

34 n

occasion ? In black dress tin J a black lace shawl. Though
one looks old in such costume, yet it is indispensable."

" I know all about it," replied Panni Polanetzki. " Pan
Svirski has been kind enough to give necessaiy advice on
the matter."

"By the way, Svirski does not miss an opportunity to
speak to me about you during our sittings. He feels a
genuine sympathy for you."

"It's mutual," answered Panni Polanetzki.

Thus conversing they arrived home. Panni Osnovski
shook hands so coldly at her departure, that Polanetski
noticed it.

" What's that ? " mused he — " a new method of warfare,
or have I said something to displease her?"

At niirht he asked his wife.

t(.

((

What do you think of Panni Osnovski?"

I think that Svirski is right when speaking of her iu-

cessaut prattle and. her relations to her husband.

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344

l^i.

CHAPTER XVI.

•/. ■)■

The following morning when Panni Polanetzki ap-
peared before her husband, he scarcely recognized her.
She was clad in a black dress and black lace on her head,
which somber attire made her look taller, darker, thinner
and older, but she pleased him with her seriousness that
reminded him of the day of their wedding. Half an hour
later they went away. She told him that her heart was
beating, that she was trembling. Jokingly he cahned her,
yet the same time grew excited himself, and when they
entered the semicircle of the square before the Church of
St. Peter, lie felt that his pulse went crescendo, and he
himself became smaller. They found Svirski on the
stairs, on either side of which stood porters, dressed in
magnificent costumes, designed by Michel Angelo. The
dazed Marinya did not notice how soon after she found lier-
self in a very large hall, filled with people who swarmed in
every nook and corner ; the center only was clear, whicli
the porters standing in lines, kept free from the crowd,
and kept a clear passage into the depth of tlie liall. In
the crowd Frencli and Flemish whispers were audible.
All eyes were fixed on the open passage, whereat from
time to time appeared figures fantastically attired, which
reminded Polanetzki of the jncture-galleries of Brussels
and Antwerp. It seemed to him that he lived in the mid-
dle ages. At times on the scene appeared a herald in a short
.jacket and red cap. Through the doors flashed the crim-
son or violet robes c" the cardinals, ostrich feathers, laces
on black velvet, and earnest grave heads with white hair, or
face just released from a sarcophagus. It was evident, how-
ever, that the eyes of the surging mass rested on them only
for a short while, that all eagerly expected something else,
something higher— superior. Tliat moment, that occurs
only once in a lifetime— not with every man, either— and

345

:-d

can never be forgotten. ruLuietzki held Marinya's hand
in his own, fearing to looe her in the crowd, and felt how
she trembled with excitement ; and he himself — midst this
silent throng of beating hearts, historical solcnniity and
patriarchalism, midst that grandeur of expectancy — hibored
under a peculiar impression, as if lie suddenly became the
smallest and un worthiest of men.

Soon behind then the low, panting voice of Svirski pro-
nounced :

" And I was looking for you all over, could scarcely
find you ! It'll begin soon ! "

But this "soon" was delayed for a long while. In the
meantime Svirski greeted a friendly monsignor, spoke to
him in low tones, then conducted Polanetzki and his wife
into another chamber, furnished in red damask. This
room was also crowded with people, save one coiner which
was shielded by guards of honor, and in the center of which,
on an eminence, stood a chair, and before it a number of
prelates and bishops. Here the eagerness and impa-
tience was more striking : it was apparent that the people
held their breath, that all faces had a solemn, mysterious
expression. The blue brightness of the sunny day min-
gled with the crimson of tli(3 walls, filled the room with a
wonderful light, in wliicli the rays of the sun, penetrating
through the windows, seemed redder than usual. At last
an ominous whisper passed tliroughthe liall, soon growing
in volume to shouts, and even yells. Through the open
side-doors appeared a white figure carried by court guards.
Marinya's hand nervously squeezed tlie palm of her hus-
band. He responded in like manner, and his impressions
iHultcd into one sensation of some extraordinary, solemn,
triumphant moment, such as crowded his brain, on the
day of his wedding.

One of the cardinals began to speak, but Polanetzki
heard him not, nor could he understand his words. His
eyes, thouglits, liis whole soul was entirely absorbed in
that white tigure of the Pope ; not a single feature of
that noble face escaped his attention. He was struck by
its extreme haggardness, thinness and (emaciation, its pallor
and transparency, such as can only be seen on a corpse.
It bore evidence of weakness and exhaustion, gave the im-

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346

pression of half human, lialf vision, just as a light that
shone through a piece of ahibaster, a spirit clad in a tian-
sparent matcj-ial, medium between two lights, eombined
by human and superhuman tire, natural and unnatural,—
and, thanks to a peculiar antithesis, the material seemed
gauzy, transparent, and the spirit — real. Later, when the
crowd approaclied to receive the blessing, when Polanetzki
beheld the kneeling form of Marinya, when he felt that
to his semi-empyrean feet one might kneel, as to a father's
he was seized by such a mixture of emotions and excite-
ment, that his eyes were clouded as though with a dense
mist! Never before in his life did he feel himself such a
wee little grain of sand, in which, however, a gratefnl little
heart of a child throbbed fast and v'iolent. They departed
from the Vatican in silence. Marinya's eyes were moist
with tears, and she looked as if she had just awakened
from sleep. Vaskovski's hands trembled . . . Bukatzki
joined them at breakfast, but, being sick himself, could not
restore their gay humor. Even Svirski was silent during
the sitting, repeating oid}^ from time to time:

'* Yes, yes. Whoever had not seen it, can have no idea."
Toward evening the Polanetzkis went to look at the
sunset from the Trinita dei Monti. The day wound up
with beautiful weather. The whole city was veiled in a
golden shimmer. At the slope of the hill, somewhere on
the Piazza d'Espagna, dusk set in, but in those tender
transparent tones of twilight were still seen the blooming
lilacs, iris and white lilies, on both sides of " Condotti."
In the whole scene a solenm, unbroken silence and peace
reigned, as if the harbinger of night and slumber. Soon the
Piazza d'Espagna sank into shadow, and the Trinita alone
was still aglow with the purple of the setting sun. The
Polanetzkis felt the effect of that universal rest and peace.
They descended the gigantic steps of the stairs in a won-
derful mood. All the impressions of the day arranged
themselves in such even, quiet lines as the rays of the shi-
ning dawn.

" Do you know what I still remember from my days of
childhood?" Polanetzki suddenly asked his wife—" that in
our house at night we all prayed together." And he
looked at her witli an inquiring, searching glance.

aii-

34'

1, Stach!" replied she, in an agitated voice
[lot mention it to you, my darling! "

--T

" Oh.

dared not ^ ^ ^

"Yes, that Mioly service,'" pronounced he-^' do you

rememher it '^

At that time, in Kremen,she attached little significance
to her utterance, slu; expressed it simply like any other
thought, and now, of course, she eutnely forgot it.

348

CHAPTER XVII.

PoLANETZKi lost considerably in the estimation of
Panni Osuovski. Meeting him at Sviiski's she treated
him as coldly as etiquette allowed. Polanetzki was
conscious of the change, and at times asked himself :
" What does this woman want from me ? " Of course he
paid no attention to her, and probably had she been fifty
or sixty years of age and }iot eight and twenty, had she
not possessed violet eyes and ras[)berry lips, he would ab-
solutely ignore her presence. But such is human nature;
that notwithstanding he expected nothing from her, he
could not refrain from contemplating what would happen
were he to pay her homage, to what extent would she go,
of what was she capable? Nevertlieless they arranged
an excursion to the catacombs of So. Calixtus, but even
this excursion did not effect a change. They con-
versed, of course, but not frequently enough to attract
attention, and this at last angered Polanetzki. The
tactics of Panni Osnovski, her reserve, formed a sort of
peculiar relation, presumably known only to themselves,
— a secret, as it were, which no one else was permitted to
penetrate. Polanetzki thought that it would all end with
the finisliing of her portrait.

Though the face needed but a few finishing touches,
there still remained considerable detail, that made her
presence in the studio of the artist imperative.

He did not understand that he was making an error,
such as men make daily, who delight to hunt or trespass
on strange premises.

Panni Osnovski was a coquette no doubt, with an icy
heart, but she was very far from being unprincipled.
He returned to the studio with the ftoling tliat he had

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349

sacrificed himself for MariiijM, and regretted it heartily,
if only because llie latter would never know il; and luid
she known his chivalrous action he would gain no [jraise,
being considered perfectly natural. This feeling annoyed
him, and wlieu he gazed at his wife, looked into her pure
eyes, her calm, pretty and cliaste face, he compared un-
willingly tliese two women, and mused:

*' Oh, iMarinya is not such a woman ! She would
sooner be swallowed by mother earth. She can be trusted ! '*

During the entire sitting he returned mentaily to
Panni Osnovski time and again. He tiiought that very
soon she would cease giving him her hand, but he was
mistaken. On the contrary, she proved that slie held, as
of very litUe importance, either Polanetzki or his words,
and was jondescendingly amiable, even more so than be-
fore. Ouly Osnovski himself soemed insulted, and every
day became colder and stiffer, — the result api)arently of his
conversation with liis wife. In a few days these thoughts
gave place to others of greater interest. P)ukatzki was
constantly ailing ; he complained of a severe pain in the
back of his head, and a funny feeling as of the disjointing
of every bone in his body. His jocularity was still keen
and active at times, but soon disappeared, like the last
flicker of a candle. He appeared very seldom at dinner,
and finally one morning Polanetzki received a note writ-
ten in a trembling hand: "My dear, I think, that to-
night is the eve of my departure. If you have nothing to
do, and wish to see me depart, please come to my loom."

Polanetzki did not show tlie note to liis wife, and went
at once to Bukatzki. He found him in bed, and at his
bedside a physician, who soon took his leave.

" You frightened me," said Polanetzki — " what's the
matter with you ? "

'' Nothing, a wee little stroke cf paralysis of the left
side of the body I "

''Have fear of God!"

" Cleverly said ! If I th jught to fear God — now it's the
best time for it. My left hand and foot are pai-alyzed and
I cannot rise. Thus I awoke in the morning. I thought
my tongue had gone the same way and began to recite:
'per me si va ' . . . An.l as you see — it's intact. The

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350

■ < •

tongue has remained loyal, lu.d my sole thought now is
to preserve the clearness of my mind."

"Are you certain it's paralysis? Maybe it's only a
temporary numbness of the body?"

*' What is life? Oh, only a flash, an instant," recited
Bukatzki. " I cannot move, and this is the end of it, or
ratlier the beginning."

"It's horrible ! But I do not believe it. Everyman
may be benumbed for a time ! "

— " Yes, there are unpleasant moments in life — as the
fish said Avhen the cook cleaned him with a knife before
putting him into the frying-pan. I confess that, at the
tirst moment, I was frightened. Have you ever had the
sensation of feeling your hair rise and stand on end ?
This sensation cannot be called very pleasant. But I
am already accustomed to my paralysis, and it seems to
me, after three hours of torture, that I have lived \vhole
decades with it. It's a question of habit, as the carp said,
when in the frying-pan. ... I keep on talking and chatter-
ing with a purpose. I've so little time to spare, you
know. Do you know, my dearest, that I will be dead two
days hence ? "

" You're talking nonsense ! Paralyzed men live for
thirty years."

" Even forty. . . Paralysis is at first a *' luxury " that
some people allow themselves, but not such as myself. A
strong man with a strong neck, and head, broad shoulders,
thick chest, might consider paralysis a necessary rest after
a gay and stormy youth, a good opportunity for medita-
tion, — but not I. Do you remember how you poked fun
at my hips ? But then I was a veritable elephant in com-
parison with my present condition. I am astraiglit line,
one (joking aside) that leads direct to the " infinite."

Polanetzki protested vigorously, introduced various in-
stances or illustrations, but Buk.itzki retorted:

" Stop prattling ! I know that within two days paraly-
sis of the brain will develop. Thougli I have spoken to
no one about it yet I foresaw it all along, and there fo-e
read a number of medical books. With the second crisis
it will be all over ! "

He paused for a moment and continued :

kii

351

"Do you presume that I do not wish it? Think ye
that I am as lonely as a cho])ped-off linger. I have no
one. . . . here or in Warsaw, I may be attended in my
sickness only by mere strangers, by hired nnrses. Oh I
what a cnrsed mean life this is, without movement, with-
out a living soul, without a relative. When 1 lose my
tongue, as I lost my hand and foot, ever}' beggar mu}'-
strike my face to their hearts' content, and I will not be
able even to raise my voice in protest. Though ai first
the paralysis frightened me, yet in my bod} there still
lives a jjroud soul. Remember that 1 told you — I have no
fear of deatii — and I have none ! "

In the eyes of Ihikatzki floated a pale flame of energy
and daring, hidden somewhere in the depth of his dis-
jointed, softened soul. But Polanetzki wiio, after all,
possessed a kind heart, put his hand in that of the patient's,
and said cordially:

" Tliink not for a moment, Adia, that we will leave you
without iittendance, and do not say, that you have no one.
Here am I, my wife, Svirski, Vaskovski, the Bigels. You
are not a stranger to us ! T will take you to Warsaw,
will put you in a hospital. We will take care of you, and
no one shall dare to touch you, or I'll break every bone in
his body. . . . Resides, we liave Sisters of Mercy — and
among them Emilya Chavastovska."

Bukatzki grew pale, he became moi-e agitated than
could be expected of him, and his eyes seemed as if clouded
with smoke.

" You are a good chap," said he at last. " You know not
yourself what a miracle you have performed with me.
You ])roved to me that I still want something. . . . Yes, I
would like to be in Warsaw. . . . there in the midst of you
all I would be delighted — etc. — etc. — in Warsaw."

" You shall be taken there. Meanwhile it will do you
no harm to enter a hospital here, where you could be
})r()perly attended to and taken care of. Svirski ought to
know which is the best heie, and until then trust yourself
to me. Allow me to is'-ie vour orders in the meantime.
Agreed ? "

" Do whatever j^ou deem best," leplied Bukatzki, who
regained his old courage at the sight of Polanetzki, las

■i :■';.:'.

.1..'.:

352

plans and his energy. The latter immediately dispatched
a messenger to Svirski and Vaskovski. They came both
in half an hour, together with an eminent physician, who
examined the patient an^ sent him at once to a hospital.
The same day Bukatzki was placed in a light, airy room."

*' What pleasing soft tones ! " remarked Bukatzki, look
ing at tlie walls and ceiling of the room, then he turned to
Polanetzki and added.

** Well, now go to your wife, but come again to-night."

Polanetzki went away. He described to Marinya the
calamity that had befallen Bukatzki, using great caution,
fearing to frighten her with the unexpected news of his
probable death. She begged him to take her along, if not
the same evening, then the very next morning, which he
promised to do. The following morning, after breakfast-
tliey went together to the hospital. Vaskovski had been
there day and night, entertaining the patient with stories
of nis ow'^ experience, how, when he once fell dangerously
ill, he saved himself by confession and communion which
brought instant relief.

" This is a well-known method, and I know what you
aim at," remaiked (lie patient with a smile. The old man
became confused like one caught red-lianded in his crime.

** I am willing to bet," said he, "that it will also help

"Very well," replied Bukatzski with a gleam of his old
energy, " I shall convince myself of its truthfulness in two
days."

He was elated at the visit of Marinya ; he did not
expect to see her in the hospital, and even made a pre-
tense of gently rebuking her.

" What an absurdity," said he — " is it worth your whil(3
to botlier with a bony old man like myself. You will
never be prudent. . . . Why? what for? you wish that I
should feel grateful before my death — well — I am very,
very thankful to you. . . ."

But Panni Polanetzki did not allow liim to speak of
death. She s})oke herself of the necessity of returning to
Warsaw, that this journey would soon be made. She gave
some advice liow to make himself comfortable, and
gradually his thoughts were diverted and he soon relapsed

353

itohed
both
who

spital.

oom."
look

lied to

into a state resembling that of a helpless child, tliat
submits to everything and everybody. Tlie same day he
was visited by Osnovski ; the latter betrayed for tlie suf-
ferer a good deal of sympathy ai.d comj)assion. Bukatzki
was not prepared for tliis, and was very much affected
by tliat sudden interest. In the evening when Polanetzki
came again, Bukatzki said to him, as soon as they were
left alone :

*' I will row tell you frankly : Never have I felt so
keenly that I have made a foolish farce out of mj- life,
that I speiiG it like a wretched dog. If I onlj^ had a
liking for that method of life,"— added he after a pause, —
" but this was not the case. Wliat a stupid age is ours !
A man splits himself in twain, and wliatever good there
is in him hides itself in some remote corner ; lie be(U)mes
a clown, bitter and insincere, meditating more u2)on tlie
vanity of life than feeling its very essence. I have
but one consolation, — death is something, that's real,
though, on the other hand, there is no reason to discuss it
before it conies : it's just like looking at the wine, and
saying its vinegar.'*

'' You are always torturing yourself with spinning your
thoughts on a block. . . . Drop it now, if you can."

" You are right ! But I cannot help reflecting, that
when I was well and sound, I ridiculed life, and now, I
confess, that I do not wish to die : I want to live, yes, I
want to live ! "

•' And you shall ! "

" Hardly ! Though your wife persuaded me, yet now I
doubt it again, and I suffer — I am worn out. But listen
to what I am going to tell you. I know not whether T
will have to give an account of myself, and yet I am
alarmed, strangely so, as if I was afraid, and do you
know why? Because I have never done anything good
for my people, and I could, yes, I could ! I am afraid of
this thought, upon my honor, I am ! Not a trifling matter

-to do nothing ! To eat your bread your whole life long.

without earning it, and now — to die.

If there exists

a punishment I deserve it, and that is why I suffer so
intensely. Oh, Stach ! "

In spite of his aeemingly negligent tone, liis face really
23

''«!; ■■

354

111;.--

betrayed tlie alarm, his lips were pale, and perspiration
covered his forehead.

" Be calm ! " said Polanetzki, " this excitemer t may
hurt you."

But Bukatzki continued : " Stop ! do not interrupt me !
I have a considerable fortune, and let it do for me what I
failed to do. I leave one part of it to you, and with the
rest you do tlio best you can, — sometliing useful. . . .
You and Bigel are practical men. Tiiink of that ... I
have no time, . . . will you do this for me?"

'* Tliis and everything else."

" Thanks! But what funny regrets, alarms, and pricks
of conscience I And yet I cannot banisli the thoughts, of my
guilt . . . sucli conditions won't do. ... I positively
ouoflit to do somethiuGf before I die. . . . Death is not a
joke, I assuic you . . If she could, at least, be seen, but
she is so dark! ... I will decay, crumble and rot in the
darkness. Are you a believer ? "

" Yes."

" I am an infidel. I liave played all kind of games, in
my life. If it were not for the consciousness of my guilt,
I would be c;ilm. I had i^o idea that it could worry one
so much. I am now in the position of a bee that robbed
her own hive, — and this is a n^ean thing. One thing is
good, — T leave a fortune behind me. True ! I squandered
some of it, l)ut only on paintings, which also remain. Oh,
how ardently do I wish to live but one year more."

He reliected a moment, then added :

" Now I understand, that life can be bad only when
you manage it badly, but existence — is a glorious thing!"

Polanetzki went away late that night : During the fol-
lowing week Bukatzki hovered between life and deatli,
tlie physicians being unable to predict the end. At all
events they tli(Uight there would be no danger in re-
moviufr him to Warsaw. Svirski and Vaskovski under-
took to accomplish the task and att(Mid the sufferer, who
pined for his native city, and daily spoke of Emilya
Chavastovska. But, suddeidy on the eve of his departure,
he lost the power of sjx'ech. The heart of Polanetzki was
rent with pain, when he looked into the eyes of the in-
valid, in which he read so much alarm and mute appeal.

zki

the

355

piration

I't may

ipt me i

what I

ilh tlio

-il. . . .

... I

:1 pricks
3, of mv
sitively
is not a
ion, Imt
ill the

mes, m
sf guilt,
riy Olio
robbed
liiiig is
ndored
n. Oh,

^ when

hincr!"

10 fol-

doatli,

At all

m re-
iindor-
sr, who
^inilyii
arture,
'.ki was
the iii-
xp})ea].

He tried to write but could not. In tJie eveninjr he re-
ceived another stroke which paralyzed his brain, and he
died.

He was temporarily buried at Champo-Santo. Polanet-
zki declared that his last glance before his death expressed
tlio request to be taken liome. Svirski contirmed tliis
conjecture.

Thus perislied that soap bubble, that at times sparkled
with all the colors of a rainbow, but always weak, power-
less.

Polanetzki was sincerely grieved at his death, and for
liours thought of his strange life. He did not share his
thoughts with Marinya, because he was not accustomed to
(.'onfide to his wife what was taking place in liis jieart of
hearts. From these retlections he deduced various ideas
in his own favor.

"• Bukatzl'.i," said he to himself, " coidd iiever be in har-
mony with his own mind; he lacked ex[)erience, common
sense; he C(mld not collect liis thoughts, and always fol-
lowed the im})ulse of his })hantas3\ Had he lived — well,
thanks to such a method, I would give him credit for
some prudence, but as it was, it was very bad. It is in-
deed absurd to look at wine, and to })eisuade yourself that
it is vinegar. I am at present fully reconciled to my life,
as to everything else."

Tliough there was some truth in this, yet it was also a
self dece]:)tioii ; he was not consistent with his own wife.
He thought that i)rotecting her as a husband, and treating
lier well, feeding her, and lavishing kisses on her, lie ful-
lilled all obligations. In the meantime their relations
were distinguished by lluj f:.ct that he ''allowed" her to
love liim and " tolerated " her love. In his eveiy-day life
he observed manv strancfo thiiiQ-.s ; when one of his
friends, noted for his honesty, a(!ted nobly in some affair,
])0ople waved their hands and carelessly remarked: " Oh,
that X. . . . It's but natural ; " and if tlu; same n()l)le
action was performed by a scoundrel, the same pi.'ople
})rotested, "there sui'ely must be something in tlie man."
... A hundred times Polanetzki noticed that a peiuiy
given by a miser priHluccs more impression than a tcU'
dollar gold-piece given i)y a generous man. Bui he was

o A)

'ii\

i;r

not conscious that he folkuvcil ilie same principle in his
rehitions toward Marinya. While she gave him lier whole
being, her whole soul, he shook liis head and waved liis
hands. "Well, tliis Marinya! Of course, naturally I"

If her love was not so attentive, not so easily gained ;
if he were convinced that this treasure were given to liim
as a treasure, as a deity that had to be respected and
esteemed, he would have accepted with humble deference.
But Marinya gave him her love as his property, as a
tribute due liim, and he accepted it in like manner and
spirit. She considered his love a happiness, and he gavo
her that happiness, deeming himself a deity. One ray of
light of his deity he generously let fall into the lieart of a
woman, the rest he kept for himself. Thus, taking every-
thing, he gave up only a part. In his love there was no
timidity, the source of which is respect ; his love lacked
what in every tender word says, " Everything to your
feet ! "

But neither of them was conscious of it.

857

CHAPTER XVIII.

'*Ido not even ask if you are happy," said Bigel to
Polaiietzki on his return to Warsaw. '' With a woman
Uke your wife, one cannot help being happy."

"Yes, Mariiiya is a very good and honest woman," re-
plied Polanetzki, "and it's impossible to expect more.
We get along very nicely," added he, addressing Panni
Bigel, who was present, "and it could not be otherwise."

'•'• Do you remember our former conversations on mar-
riage and love ? When I was in fear of falling in love
with a woman who would close the whole world for her
liusband, possess all his thoughts and sentiments, and be-
come the only aim of his life. Do yc >. recollect how I
proved to you and Panni Chavastovska that love of a
woman should not absorb tlie man, that there are more
important things in the world to a man than mere
love?"

— " Yes, I do recollect, even what I answered, for
instance, * that household occupations in no way hinder
lovo for children.' It seems to me anvwav that such
thi-gs are not like empty boxes, that, if you put a few of
them on the table, there is no more space left for others."

— " My wife is I'ight," lemarked Bigel. " I have seen
that human beings very often err when they introduce
sentiment into physical conditions, and if your conversa-
tion touches this point, it is not worth while to speak of a
particular ..."

— " Silence, silence, you enslaved man ! " merrily
shouted Polanetzki.

— " Wliat of it, if the enslavement is pleasant to me.
... But your turn will also come, and very soon. . . ."

— " My turn ? "

«M

858

1 '■!»

— ** Yes, you will be enslaved by your honesty, kind-
ness, heart."

— " That is different. One may be subjugated, but not
prostrated. But let nie praise Marinya. 1 came across
such a good woman that a better one is impossible to find.
She is perfectly satisfied with my feelings toward her, she
does not wish to be my exclusive deit v, and I love lier the
more for that. The Creator has preserved me from a wife
that would claim for herself my soul, my reason, my
whole being, and I am sincerely thankful, for I could not
endure sucii a character. One can give it all away at his
own volition, but not under compulsion, or force."

— "Believe me, Pan Polanetzki," objected Panni Bigel,
" we are all equally exacting in this respect ; but at first
we take a particle of that, which is given to us as a whole,
and after — "

— "What is after?" ironically interrupted Polanetzki.

— " After, really honest women resolve to do what is of
no importance to you, but for us it is the very basis and
support in life."

— " What kind of a talisman is it ? "

— " Concession."

— " Polanetzki burst out laughing."

— " Tlie late Bukatzki once said that women cover them-
selves with this concession as with a hat that fits them.
A hat of concessions and a veil of melancholy — is it a bad
attire ? "

— "No, it is not a bad one. But what do you want?
Perhaps it is an attire that when you wear it you get an
easier access to heaven than in any other."

— " In such case my Marinya will go straight to hell,
because she will never be dressed this way. But you will
soon see her, as she promised to call on you after our
office liours. It is evident she is late."

— " Probably her father prevents her coming. But you
will stay here for dinner."

— " Well, let us remain here. I agree ! "

— " Some one else has promised to come. Well, I will
go to make the necessary pre])arations." Painii Bigel left,
and Pan Polanetzki asked his host.

— " Who else is invited to dinner? "

350

— " A certain Zavilovski, the future correspondent of
our firm."

— '* Wlio is he ? "

— "A well-known poet I "

— '' There ! From the Parnassus to tlie office desk! "

— " 1 don't remember who said that our society keeps
our geniuses on diet. ... I have been told tliat he is a very
able man, but one cannot subsist on mere })oetry. . . . You
know that our Tishkovzki got a position in an insurance
company, and Zavilovski ap[)lied for the vacant place. I
was ske})tical about him, but he said that by giving him the
place I would sim})ly procuie biead for him. He pleased
me personally, and after all he speaks three languages
fluently but be has no practical knowledge of business."

— "That is nothing. In one week he will learn it;
but will lie stick to his position and will he work as
required. , . . Mi:id, he is after all a poet."

— "Then we will part promptly. I accepted liim only
l)ecause he offei'ed his services, and naturally I gave liim
])reference. In three days he will begin, and meanwhile
I advanced him his monthly salary, as he is in need."

— "That means he is poor?"

— " It seems so. . . . There lives in Warsaw one, old
Zavilovski, a very rich man, who lias a daughter. I asked
our poet, whether he wiis a relative, and he answered ;
No ; but he blushed, and this makes me think that he is.
How strange it is : some avoid their relatives, because they
aie poor, others — because they are rich. There is no
equilibiium anywhere, and mostly on account of whims,
childish pride. Anyway he will surely please you. My
wife is very well pleased with him."

— " Wlio pleased your wife ? " asked Panni Bigel on en-
tei'ing.

— '' Zavilovski."

— "That is because I have read his poem * On the
Threshold.' This Zavilovski looks as if he has some-
thing to hide from men."

— "He hides poverty, or rathei' poverty hides him."

— "No, he bears the marks of hai'd times."

— "Have you ever seen such a lomantic lady? She
thinks that lie has suffered much, and she felt offended

*•?„ '

360

when I told her that in all probability he had suffered in
hij youth from pivlus in the stomach. . . . This, you see,
is not poetical enough for her."

Pohuietzki glanced at his watch and expressed his im-
patience.

— "All what a creeping mouse Marinya is! "said lie.
But this mouse having just arrived, Polanetzki told litr
that they worUl stp> fo.- dinner, and she consented. Then
she greeted ti <^^. dren who came in with considerable
noise.

Soon came Za lovsl^' and Bigel presented him to the
Polanetzkis. He was a young man about twentj'-seven
years of age. Scrutinizing him Polanetzki found that he
did not at all look like a man who had suffered greatly in
his life. He seemed liiiiier confused and perplexed to find
himself among strangers. He had a nervous face, a
pointed beard, merry gray eyes and a striking forehead,
on which the veins plainly traced the letter V. He was
tall and awkward.

— *' I heard," said Polanetzki, " that you would begin
work in our office."

— " Just so, my principal," answered Zavilovski, " I
will commence my service."

— " Oh, for God's sake, drop that principaldom,"
laughed Polanetzki ; " we are not in the habit of using
titles and making a show of principaldom. Bat, maybe,
my wife will like this as it will exalt her in her own
eyes. . . . Well," said he, turning to liis wife, Paniii
Principal, " do you desire to be called Panni Principal?
This may prove a new distraction."

Zavilovski was troubled, but he laughed, when Panni
Polanetzki said laughingly:

— *' No, decidedly I don't want it, as it seems to me tliiit
a lady principal must wear a tremendous cap," — t^lio
showed with her hand the size, — " and I don't like caps."

The young man became more at ease among these chei'i-
ful and kind people, but he was soon in confusion again,
when Panni Polanetzki said :

- — " I havo read nothing for some time, as we have
but lately arrived from abroad , . . What is your latest
production ? "

361

— " Nothing. . . I only write poetiy in my leisure
hours, as Pun Bigel practises music. . . simply for dis-
traction."

— " I don't believe it," said Panni Polanetzki. And she
was right. Indeed, he desired that they should not con-
sider him as a poet, but merely as a correspondent or cleik
of their firm. He titled I^iwl and Polanetzki not so much
out of modesty, but in order to show them, that since he
prevailed upon himself to become a clerk, he considers this
occu[)ation just as good as any other, and that he would
now and hereafter try to adapt liimself to his new task
with zeal. But there was sometliing else. Tl' ngli young,
Zavilovski liad seen how ridiculous are th(n 3 v lo, after
having written two or three poems, crav to > called
])oets, and imagine that they are superior I ul s, prophets.
His self-respect suffeied greatly even at tii3 "icught that
he might be laughed at, and therefore he • 'enttothe other
extremity and was practically ashamed oi u- poetry, even
tlie least reference to his poetic propensities put him in a
state of frenzy and despair.

Nevertheless lie was conscious of his inconsistency:
better not write poems at all and not let tl-em be printed
over his signature ; but he could not resist the temptation.
'J'lue, his head was not surrounded with an aureola of
glor}', but some rays had touched it, and they glowed or
grew dim as he wrote or abandoned poetiy. Being as
l)roud as he was gifted, he prized these glimpses of glory
tlie greatest pleasure in the world, btit he did not like to
he referred to as a poet. However, when he was aware tliat
lie became forgotten as such, he suffered cruelly. He
was divided in his anxiety, tliat made him thii-sty for
glory, and at the same time, fear that somebody miglit
s.iy he was not Avorthy of it. Besides, he was jierplexed
with many other contradictions, as it often is with an im-
I)iessive young man, who regards himself as something
exclusive. For this reason poets generally seem artificial.

At last the dinner was served, and the topic of conver-
sation was Italy. Polanetzki spoke of Bukatzki, liow he
[)assed the last moments of his life and made his testa-
ment that enriched the nairator by a considerable sum.
The greater part of Bukatzki's estate he divided among

:ll

3G2

charitable institutions after lie had consulted Bicfel as
prescribed in the testament. Hukat/.ki was loved ])v
everybody, and he was renienibered wilb great syni{)atliv.
Panni Bigel went so far as to shed tears, when Maiim;i
said that lie had repented and confessed before liis deaili.
and died like a true Cliristian. But after all, it was a
sympathy that did not prevent their dining comfortahh.
and if Bukatzki luid sometimes dreamt of a Nirvana, lie
had now attained it, and it remained for tlie living, even
his nearest and best friends, a light and short remembrainc
A week more, a month, at the latest a year, his name will
become a sound without an echo.

Zavilovski, wlio did not know Bukatzki, hut had
become interested in the story of liis life, thought that it'
this account was true of Bukatzki, lie surelv would not hu
satisfied with the necrology, if he could hear it.

But Panni Polanetzki, wishing to give another direction
to the conversation, began to tell of her excursions about
Rome and its environs with Svirskiand Osnovski. Bigel
who knew Osnovski said :

** This man has one love — his wife, and one hatred—
his fatness, or rather its disposition. In general he is u
very amiable man."

"But he is very lean," retorted Panni Polanetzki.

*' Two years ago he was very fat, but he began to ride
a bicycle, to fence, to drink Karlsbad Avater, to travel in
Italy and Egypt, and lie became meager. But I did not
mean to say that he, himself, abhors fatness. . . . His wife
hates it, and he imitates her. For this reason he also used
to dance to exhaustion at balls."

" Yes, that is *sclavus saltans,' " remarked Polanetzki.
" Svirski told us a good deal about it."

" Indeed," continued Bigel, "one may and must love
liis wife, esteem her, regard her as the pupil of his eye. . .
This is very good, but he not only loves liis wife, he writes
love-letters, poems; divines and augurs with closed eyes
pointing his finger at the })ages of a book, reading the
sentence where his linger stopped, and concluding from
it whether liis wife loves him or not. And when he reads
something that is not in touch with his thought, he gicnvs
melanclioly. He is enraptured, foolishly in love, counts

her re<,'ards and tries to guess the me;ining of lier words,
lie kisses not only her hands and feet, but her gloves
when no one is looking."

— " Oh, what a deliglitful man ! " cried Marinya.

— ^t Would you like me to do the same?" asked Polan-
etzki.

Marinya reflected and said :

— " No, because it would not be natural for you to
di) so."

— '' Oil, what a Machiavelli I " said Bigel. " This
answer ought to be noted, for it expresses at tlie same
time praise, criticism, experience, and proof that it is good
as it is, but one may desire something better. There is
room for everything ! "

— *' I accept it as praise," said Polanetzki, " thougli you
will surely say it is a concession," added he, turning to
Panni Bigel.

— '' Tiie outer part is love, but concession is the warm
lining," answered Panni Bigel laughing

Zavilovski looked witli curiosity at Marinya. She
seemed to him tender and sympathetic. Her answer to
her husband surprised him, and he thought that only a
woman, strongly in love, could speak tliis way. And he
turned his eyes on Polanetzki witli great envy.

As he had been silent, he at last resolved to take part
in the conversation, but his timidity held him back, and
an aching tooth made liim feel miserable. But in a
moment of relief he asked :

— " And Painii Osnovski?"

— " She has a husband that loves for thein both, so she
need not worry herself on that score," answered Polanetzki.
'• Svirski says so, at least. Besides, slie has Ja{)ancse
eyes, bears the name Anette, is adorned with a gold-tilling
ill her upper teeth, always in view when slie is laughing,
so that she prefers to smile continually, and she is gen-
erally turning around and cooing like a dove."

— *•' Ah, what a malicious man! " cried Marinya. " On
the contrary, she is lovel}', liv(4y and delightfnl. Svirski
cannot know how much slu; loves her husl)and, ;is lie
surely did not speak with her about it. That is a mere
supposition."

304

!■ .t

,*"/•

■I'd'

But liis wife's remarks induced Polanetzki to think
first, it is not a supposition, and next, that she is as artless
as she is kind.

— " It is interesting to know," said Zavilovski, *' what
would have been had she loved her liusband, as he is
loving lier ? "

— '' That would be the greatest egotism," answered
Polanetzki, *' and they would have been so much absoibed
in themselves that they would not have seen anybody
around them."

— "• Light does not exclude warmth, on the contrary,
engenders it," said Zavilovski smiling.

— " Properly speaking, this comparison is more poet-
ical than })hysical," retorted Polanetzki.

" But Zavilovski's observation pleased the ladies, and
they warmly sustained him, and when Bigel joined them,
Polanetzki remained alone in his Oi)inion.

The conversation turned after that to Mashko and his
wife. Bigel told how Mashko undertook to conduct tiie big
case of the annulment of the million-testament of the late
Panni Ploshkovski. Distant relatives had presented their
claims on the millions. Plavitski had written about it to
Marinya, but she regarded it as a groundless dream, like the
millions that are supposed to lie buried in Kremen. But
in the hands of Mashko the case took quite another direc-
tion. Bigel was sure that the testament was not writteii
according to all the necessary provisions and formalities,
and said that Mashko would at once become a rich man if
he won tliis case.

— " Mashko has elastic feet like a cat, and they serve
him well," said Polanetzki.

— " Now, you will have to pray the Almighty to helji
him, as the result is highly important to your wife and
her father," said Bigel. " Bear in mind that the Plosholf
estate is estimated worth seven hundred thousand roubles.
Besides there is left a great sum in cash."

— " Yes, that would be a surprising and unlooked-for
present," answered Polar»etzki.

Bui Marinya was higlily displeased that her father had
presented liis claims on the inheritance, and with the other
relatives had solicited the annulment of the irregular

the

365

poet-

testament. Her husband anyliow was very rich, and her
father had also quite a respectable income, so tlr't tliere
was no fear of want. True, she would be pleased to pos-
sess Kremen, but not under such circumstances.

— " This troubles nie very much," said slie warmly,
''the testatrix made tlie best possil)le provisions, tuid it is
not nice at all to frustrate the will of the dead, to take
away the bread from the i)oor and the donations from the
schools and charitable institutions. Hei* ne[)hew shot
himself, and, perhajjs, she had been thinking of saving his
soul by donations to chrt' 'table institutions. This is very
bud ! They ought to think and feel otherwise."

And she flushed with indignation.

— ''Oh, how uncompromising you are ^ " said Pola-
netzki.

— " But, Stach, you know well that I am right/' pro-
tested Marinya, " you ought to feel it ! Isn't it, Stach ?
Am I not right? "

— " No doubt . . . but Mashko may win the case."

— " I heartily wish he would lose it ! "

— " You are too uncompromising, indeed," repeated
Polanetzki.

" But what a noble nature," thought Zavilovski.

After dinner Bigel and Polanetzki went to the office
to smoke their cigars and talk over the distribution of
Bukatzki's inheritance. As Zavilovski did not smoke,
he stayed with the ladies, and Panni Polanetzki, in order to
encourage him in his new occupation, said:

— "I, as well as Panni Bigel, desire that we all should
consider ( irselves as members of one family, and therefore
ask you to count us among your nearest and best acquaint-
ances."

— '* With the greatest pleasure, if you will permit it,"
answered Zavilovski. " I must anyhow pay you luy
respect. . . ."

— " All the clerks of the firm were picc'^nted to me on
the day of my marriage, but soon we went traveling.
Now we will endeavor to make our acquaintance much
closer. My husband expressed his wish that all should
call one Sunday at Bigel's, the next at our house. This
is very good, but on one condition."

30(3

— "Which one?" asked Panni Bigel.

— " That not a word al)out conunei'cial affairs should In;
mentioned. . . . We will liave nui.sie, ari'anged, of course,
by Pan Bi^el, and sometimes we will read a little, lor
instance, ' On the Threshold.' "

— " But not in my presence," interrupted Zavilovs1<i.
witli a constrained smile.

She looked at liim with lier usual simplicity.

— "Why?" asked she, "the readi))^'' will he amoh.:
friends. We have many times spoken of you before our
personal acquaintance, and Jiow we are friends."

Zavilovski felt better, and thouiifht that he had nut
very exemplary men and that Panni Pohmetzki was, atniiy
rate, quite an exceptional woman. Tlis feai-s of appearing,'
ridiculous with his poetry, lonr^ neck and awkward figure
diminished little by little, and he breatlied more freclv.
Her face, her ap[)earance deliglited him as it did Svirski
in Venice, and his practical feelings weie aroused.

She began to question him about liis relatives and
friends. But, ]ia[)[)ily for him, tlie return of Bigel and
Polanetzki put an end to this o'deal, for his father, ii
wn^U-known gambler, went crazy, and was in a lunatic
asylum.

The time was now spent in music, and Bigel took Ids
violoncello and began to play.

Zavilovski went away delighted with his "principals."
their simplicity, even Bigel's music, but especially v» iili
Painii Polanetzki, who had not the slightest notion lint
she liad inspired within him a desire to write a new
poem.

5houl(l l)e
of coursr,
little, Inr

ivilovslxi.

3(37

le aiiKMi'.f
efore (uir

liiid met
as, at any
ippeariiii,^
ird fio-uie
n'e fi'ct'ly.
d Svii'ski
sd.

lives aii'l
^igel ami

fall 1 or, ;i
a lunatic

took liis

•iiicipals."
ially wiili
otion lint
te a new

CHAPTER XIX.

ife

lid a visit to the Polanetzkis a
week after their arrival in Warsaw. P>oth looked quite
happy, full of life. In her gray dress that fitted her per-
feelly, Panni jMashko, nee Kraslovska, live years older
than Marinya, seeiue<l younger and more attractive than
in her girlhood.

Marinya asked her where they liad passed their hone}'-
moon, and she answered : "• On my hushand's estate," with
such a tone as if this estate had heen in his family for
twenty generations ; and she added that next year they
would go ahroad, as her hushand had to wind up his
affairs, and meanwhile they would pass the summer season
on the '^ hushand's estate."

— " Do you like the country?" asked Panni Polanetzki.

— '' No, but mannna likes it."

— *' Was your mother pleased with Kremen?"

— '' Yes. But the w indows in the house are just as in
;ui orangerj', ... so many small panes I "

— ''This is necessar}'," answei-ed Painii I\)lanet/.ki, witli
a laugh, ''because when hrokt;n small [)anes can be le-
jilaced from Kremen, while large panes must be sent
from Warsaw."

— '' My husband says he will build a new house."

Panni Polanetzki sighed quietly and began to chat
iihout their ac(iuainlances.

l*olanel/ki and Mashko went into another room aiul
talked of Panni Ploshk(H'ski\s will.

— "Now I can positively assert," said Mashko, " tluit I
liiivc craw led out. I have been hanging over an abyss,
hill this case has given me a !irm fooling. Such cases ai'u
t'Mremtly nire. It is a matter of millions. Ploshkovski

368

was richer than his aunt, and before he shot himself, he
had left all his property to the mother of Panni Kromitzki,
and when she did not accept it, all this wealth was trans-
ferred to PaiHii Ploshkovski. Now you can understand
what a treasure tlie grandmother has left."

— " But Bigel s})eaks of seven liundred thousand."

— '■' Tell him that if he likes to count, he will liave to
do it thrice. I must give myself credit. I am sharp, and
can extricate myself. But do you know to whom I owe
it? To your father-in-law. He told me long ago about
it, but I did not take it into consideration until I got into
the position already described in my letter to you. In a
word, tlie sword of Damocles was suspended over my
head. Three weeks after my letter to you I met Plavitski,
who told me many improbable stories about Panni Plosli-
kovski. Tbe idea struck me tlien to take the case. Any-
how, I will lose nothing, I thought. I went to the notary
Visliinski to examine tbe testament, and found a few
irregularities. A week later I got tlie power of attorney
from the heirs and commenced action. And just tliink of
it! As soon as mv creditors learned of the amount in-
volved in the case and of my fees, they stopped annoying
me, and now I am pretty well off."

— " But tell me sincerely, is it a nol)le case? "

— '' Wbat do you mean by that? "

— " Well, I mean to say, would it not be necessary to
push the case against one's honor and conscience?"

— " You see, my dear friend, in every case we can find
sometbi!ig proper and good arguments, and our profession
is based on such pleadings. Tbe whole question is,
wbotber the will was drawn leo-;dlv, and who is entitled
to be the heir. I'he laws have not been enacted by me."

— '' Do you expect to win ! "

■—^^ In cases like Ibis one tbere is always liope of win-
nimr, because the attack is made a hundred times stronoer
than tbe defence. Who will iiuht mc in the courts? The
institutions who aie only ollicially interested in the
matter. Of course, they will engage a lawyer, but how
nuich can they oIYim- him for his services? 'I'he fees pre-
scribed by law. l>ut this very lawyer can gt»i more from
jne, if I am the winner, and all this will depend on a cer-

•.. J '

3<j9

tain agreement with liirn. . . . In general, T can tell you
that in courts, as in life, those win w ho make efforts to
wni.

— '^ But, mind, if 3'ou succeed, the public opinion will
fall upon you lieavily. . . . My wife is partly against
you, too."

— '' How is it ' partly ' ? " interrupted Mashko, '* but I
will become 3-our benefactor."

— " All rigiit, but nevertheless, my wife is against you
and your winning tlie case."

— " Well, she is an exception."

— " Hardly ; I cannot say that I am pleased with it."

— " By Jove, it seems to me tliat you liave been trans-
formed from a practical man to a romantic one ! "

— *" Stop this idle talk, you know well that I am not a
dreamer."

— " All right. Then let us talk about the public
opinion. First, the unpopularity of a man wlio is comme
il faut is ratlier useful tiian prejudicial. Besides, one
nuist know how to arrange it. I will be w^reckcd, indeed,
if I lose the case ; but it will be just the contrary if I
\\m. I will be simply c(msidcred a smart man. . . . lUit
the matter takes a different shape from a purely econ-
omical point of view. The money will anyhow remain in
the country, and will not be used any worse than if the
will of the testatrix had been carried out. Let us see:
when the specified sums will be used to educate a few
poor children, to buy a few machines for seamsliesses, or
to ])uild an asylum for aged men and women to enable
them to live a year or two more —what will the country
gain by it? This is not a ])r()ductive investment. It is
time to learn economy. . . But after all, how could I act
otherwise when a sword was sus[)ended over my head /
And had I not to ])rovide iirst for myself, my wife
and my posterity? If ever you get in such a position as
I was in, you will understand me. I preferred to reach
ihe sliore than to be drowned, and everybody has a right
to save liimsclf. Mv wife hi';i a .^.mall income, and must
send a part of it to lier fat i..;, as he has threatened to
come to us if we do not lielp liim, and I don't want him."

— *' Then you know now Nvhcre Kraslovska is."
24

870

— " Yes, and therefore I don't conceal anything from
you. I am aware of tlie fact that nikl stories are told
about my wife and mother-in-hiw^ and for this leason 1
prefer to tell you how the matter stands. Kraslovsk.i is
now living in Bordeaux ; he was an agenl for a sardine
firm and used to make considerable money, but he lost his
position on account of drunkenness, and, besides, lie liad
provided himself ^vith an illegal family. . . . My ladies
ai'e sending him three thousand francs yeaily ; but this is
not enough for him, and he is bombarding the poor wo-
men with letters in which lie threatens to })ul)lish them
in the pa[)er, that they let him die in misery. Soon after
my mari'iage he asked me to increase his allowance by a
thousand francs. Now he is })roying to me that women
liave ruined him, and advises me to be careful in this
respect. ..."

And Mashko burst out laughing.

— " But this beast has also aristocratic ways," contijiued
Mashko. ••' Once want obliged him to sell programmes in
theaters, but when he was ordered to wear a imiform-liat,
lie flatly refused to comply, declaring that lie would
rather die of hunger. Now you Mill understand, why I
preferred to send him a thousand, iriincs than to see him
here. But what hurts my feeliiiirs "-lOst, is the talk that
in this country he was merely a clerk. It is a base cal-
umny, as one can convince himself by looking at the iirst
book of genealogy. The family Kraslovskais well known,
and my father-indaw lias here many relativ(^s."

But the genealogy of the Kraslovskas did not at all
interest Polanetzki, and they began to talk about the
ladies. At this moment Zavilovski made his a[)pea.ianee.
V olanetzki ])resented Mashko, and invited him to tea in
<i:-u'r to show" him the })hotographs they brought fi'om
Ital'-, There were a number of tliem on the tables, and
Z.i,v'^v..;^i took up oi e in a small fiame. It was the
por'r-dt "f Li li^,. Zavilovski looked at it with delight and
uald to ranni Polanetzki:

- -*' ii seems to be more the phantasy of an artist tliaii
the port: a! J of a child. What a wonderful and attractive
oxpressios ! Ts it not your sister?"

— "No," answered Panni Polanetzki, "the child died."

371

ZavilovsVi looked again at the portrait, but with a feeling
of pain. His poetic imagination caught the tragic moment
of death.

— " I asked you, if she was your sister, as she looks like
you. . . You liave somt'tliing in common in the features
and especially in the eyes."

But Polanetzki was Idled with sucli a holy veneration
for the dead girl tliat, thougli tlie comparison of Zavilovski
implied a recognition of Marinya's beauty, he considered
it as profanation, and taking the portrait from his liands,
he put it on the table and said sharply:

— ''Not at all, there is absolutely no likeness! Nor can
there be any comparison ! "

This exclamation vexed Panni Polanetzki, and she
said :

— " And I am of tlie same opinion."

But Zavilovski tuined to Panni Mashko and asked :

— "Did you know Lida ?'^

— " Yes."

■ — "Did you see her at BigePs?" asked Panni I'ola-
netzki.

—"Yes."

— " But she does not resemble me ? "

-" No."

Zavilovski, who sincerely esteemed and admired Panni
Polanetzki, cast a look of surprise on hc' husband, whj
was closely contem[)lating the tall figure i Panni Mashko
thinking : " IIow finely sliaped she is ! "

The Mashkos soon took their leave. Kissing l^mni
Polanetzki's hand. Pan Mashko said:

— " Maybe I will have to go to S'. Petersburg, and I
pray you to take care of my wife."

When tea was served Panni Polanetzki reminded Zavi-
lovski of his promise to recite his poem, " On the Thresh-
old," and he now felt so much at ease that lie not only
read this poem, but another, written sonustime before, He
was astonished at his boldness iuid \\ " linoiiess to r(>cite.
Tie aeet'pled with pleasure the sincere praises of J'anni
Polanetzki, and said :

— "I must eonf(!ss that I feel in your house as if <au-
acquaintance had existed for years."

372

Polanetzki remembered that he himself once made the
same remark to MariM3'a while he was staying atKremen ;
but now he accepted the compliment as pajtlydue to him,
though Zavilovski meant it only for his wife, who greatly
delighted him by her simplicity, kindness and a})pearance.

When Zavilovski left, Polanetzki said to his wife :

— " Tliis fellow is indeed very able."

Polanetzki began to put the photographs in some order,
and taking Lida's portrait, he said :

— " I will put this in my cabinet."

— " But you have one there."

— " Yes ; but I don't want this one here, where every-
one can see it and make remarks, that drive me mad.
Will you permit it?"

— '' Yes, Stach," answered his wife.

373

CHAPTER XX.

BiGEL tried hard to persuade Polanetzki to take an
active part in the business of the firm and not to kiunch
carelessly into new enterprises.

• — '' We have created," said he, " a respectable commer-
cial firm, and therefore we are useful to others."

He tried to prove that simply in justice to their business
they ought to continue it, especially as they had increased
their capital twofold. Polanetzki agreed witli him, but
at the same time insisted that the framework of their fii ni
was too narrow for him, that he aimed at larger enterprises.
But he nevertheless was afraid to start a factory at his
own risk, and he became more and more inclined to pos-
sess real estate.

This peculiar desire possessed him more and more. He
did not want the unnatural, he wanted to own liis corner
wlierein he would feel liimself at home — tlie sole lord
and master. He explained this desire to Bigel and called
it an inborn passion, which might be tamed and controlled,
but which would after all in his old days assert itself with
new force. Bigel agreed with his views and replied :

" You are right. Being married, you naturally desire
to own your home, and as you possess Ihe necessaiy cap-
ital, build yourself a waim and comfortable nest."

In view of this Polanetzki intended to erect a large house,
which would yield a certain profit and at the same time
would appease his desire to be the owner of real estate.
He soon observed, liowever, that this practical decision
has one bad feature : Such property is seldom attrac-
tive : one can call it "his own," but lie cannot love it :
bow can he love cold stojie walls, wbich any one paving
rent can claim possessioji uf ? At first he was ashamed of
this thought : it seemed to him romantic. He felt that

374

'•!!

the siglit of the trees, growincv in the garden hefore his
lioiise, would give him geiniiiie pk}Jisure. At tlie end lu;
readied the conelusion tliat it were best to acqTiire titU^ to
a little house near the city, something like tlie villa of
Bigel, where crows build their nests on old trees.

''As long as I possess the means — " said lu; to himsflf.
"tliis idea is not only I'omantic but practical." lUit lie
understood verv well that where it cojicerned (lie choice
of a nest in which he intended to spend the remainder (»f
liis life, haste was folly, and he did not busy with the exe-
cution of his plan. ^

His wife, seeinof that lie was absorbed in somethiuof
unusual, attempted to find out the cause, but liis replies
invariably were the same: "When the result is known,
I will tell 3'ou all about it myself. Until then I know
absolutely notliing, and don't care to v/aste breath. This
is not in my character."

She was, however, eidightened by Panni Bigel, witli
whom her husband shared his thoughts. Naturally
Marinya felt hui't by the disparaging distinction, es-
pecially when the choice of a home was the subject,
but ''^r "'Stach was of another character," and she
was loath to annoy him with questions he did not care
to answer. Polanetzki's neglect was not intentional,
it simply never occurred to him to take his wife into
liis conlidence in financial matters. His conversation
with her was limited to mattei'S pertaining to her own
liorizon of action; among others, to the group of ac-
quaintances she wished to foi-m. Before his \A-eddiiie^
Polanetzki had been almost a recluse. But now he felt
that life without society held out no bright prospects.
T\\(iy returned the visit of Mashko, and discussed tlie ad-
visability of calling on the Osnovskas who had returned
from aliroad with the intention of remaining in Warsaw-
till the middle of June. Marinya insisted tlnitthey must,
for tliey will often meet the Osnovskas in Warsaw. Pol-
anetzki set his licart against it. A few days after tlie
Osnovskis met Marinya. The greeting was very cordial,
and as tliey bluntly ■ Kpresstjd the hope of ])eing on friendly
terms, Pt..aiietzki's (■j)[)ositio)' was defeated. On their iiist
visit to the (>snovskis, I'ohmetzki once more observed tlwt

0»0

;ill courtesies were cheerfLiUy paid to his wife, as to liini-
>L'lf he was accorded a i)ulite l)ut cold reception. His
wife came lirst, lie second, and it angered him. Pan
O-iiovski if anything, hjoked to ))e more enamored of his
wife than ever. It was evident that his heart beat faster
when she was near him. And wlien lie spoke to her, it
was with caution and fear, lest he should perchance,
a:iiioy her with a word. Polanetzki looked at him with
iDinpassion. In his light with obesity Usnovski came out
victorious. His former raiment h)oked too loose and broad
1111(1 the red spots that had covered his face disa[)peared
entirely ; he grew paler and handsomer. .Vt the ( )snovskis
the Polanetzkis fornuul a Jicw ac(piaintance in the [)erson
of Panni Bronich and her niece, a young girl, (Jastelli, who
came to see the sights of the "summer carnival." They
took up their abode in the villa Pan Bronich, her Lite
Inisband, sold to Osnovski with the condition that his
widow should have the use of one of its i)avi lions durinsjf
tlie rest of her life. Panni Bronich was nicknamed in
Warsaw, " the sweet one " for her conversation was honey-
like, especiall}' when she spoke to peo})leshe was interested
ill ; on such occasions it seemed as if she had a him]) of
sugar in her mouth. Wonderful stories were adoat of her
knack for crippling- the truth. ^Mademoiselle Castelli was
the daughter of her sister, who had, to the great cha}''rin of
her ])arents, mariied an Italian nuisic teacher. She died
sium after her marriag-e, leaving a little baby girl. It took
iiyear for Castelli to make uj) his mind to drown himself,
and Panni Bronich undertook the bi'inging up and educa-
ting of his daughter. Linetti was a very comely girl, with
lilne eyes, blond hair, a pietty, almost white, face. Her
ty 'lashes were heavy which gave her a sleej^y air, juid
l"'iiia[)s an air of thoughtfulness. One could imagine,
ihai tliis charming- creatui'c lived an inner life, and there-
I'Ue was indifferent to her surroundinLis. If any one
\vas stu[)id enough not to guess it, Panni Bronich im-
iiii'iliiUely came to their assistance. Panni Osnovski who
\\as enthusiastic over her cousin, said of Linetti's eyes,
ilial they were deej[) as a lake. The quest ion remained
i>ii open one, what was at the bottom of that lake? ant]
ihis mysteriousness added to her charms.

The Osnovskis came to Warsaw with the intention of
spending but a short time as guests, but '' Anette," had
not been in Rome in vain. '' Art and art, and nothing
else for me," said slie to Panni Polanetzki. Her inten-
tion was apparently to establish an Athenian Salon, and
lier secret desire to be the Beatrice of some Dante, the
Laura of a Petrarch or at least a Vittoria Colonna for
some Michel Angelo." " We have a lovely garden in our
villa," said she, "• the niglits will be beautiful, and we will
gatlier tljere for Roman-Florentine chiits. Twilight, the
moon, a few Limps, the shadow of tlie trees. We will sit
and discuss in semitones everything: life, sentiments, art.
At all hazards it is better than gossiping.

" You, Yuzia," turning to her liusband, *' will feel bored,
but do not be angry with me. Believe me it will all be
so exquisite, so unique."

" Oh, Anette ! How can I be bored by anything that
amuses you ! Especially now when Linetti is with us !
She is an artiste in the full sense of the word."

And she addressed Linetti, '' Well, what grand thoughts
occup}' your pretty head? What is your opinion of Roman
evenings ? "

Linetti smiled sleepily, and her " sweet " aunt said to
Polanetzki :

" You don't know yet that the dear chihl was blessed
by Victor Hugo, when she was very young.''

"Oh, so! — Were you acquainted with Victor Hugo?"
asked Panni Polanetzki.

" We ? No ! And I woiuld not wish to be acquainted
with the man for anything in the world. But once we
rode through the ' Passe ' when he was on the balcony,
and I i-eally don't know what inspiied hiin, but he raised
his hand and blessed Linetti, and blessed her as soon as
he saw her. . . ."

" Auntie ! " interrupted Linetti.

*' Yes, but this is true, my child. And the truth — Iho
trutli cannot be silenced. ... I told her then . . . h)(»k,
my child, he lifts his liand . . . and Consul Caidin wlio
sat on the front seat saw him raise lus hand and tlieii bless
her. I repeat this story, because I believe tliat God for-
gave him his many sins, thanks to his blessing. His

377

1l — llio
. look,
m win)
iu bless
n)(l for-
His

mind, they said, was such an evil one. . . . Nevertheless,
he blessed Linetti."

There was just a grain of truth in tlie story: they had
really seen Victor Hugo on a balcony, but gossip liad
it that he raised his hand to close his mouth : he was
yawning. In the meantime Panni Osnovski continued
on her old theme. '' We will repi'oduce liere a little
' Italy'; and if our effort is not successful, we will make
a trip to the real great Italy, in winter. It has been
an old dream of mine to furnish a house in Rome, but iu
the meantime Yuzia brought from there a few excellent
copies of pictures and sculptuies. He did it for my sake.
Pan Svirski helped him to make a fine selection. What a
pity Svirski is not heie, and poor Pukatzki. He would
have ])een invaluable now. He was a verj^ amiable fellow.
His mind was flexible as a snake. He added much life
to conversation." **

She turned to Panni Polanetzki.

"You probably are not aware that you made a conquest
of Svirski. After your dei)arture he spoke of no one but
you. He even })egan to })aint a ^ladonna, who possessed
all your features, and you became a Fornarina. Evidently,
you are lucky with jirtists, and when our Florentine nights
begin, I and Linetti will have to take care or else we
shall be pressed to the wall."

" If it's a question of faces that impress artists," inter-
posed Panni Bronich, casting displeasing glances at
Marinya, " I will relate to you what happened once in
xNice."

'■ Auntie ! " interrupted her niece.

'' P>ut, truth is truth, my child. ... A year ago, no,
two vears. . . . How time is flving-. . . ."

l)ut Panni Osnovski, who had heard that story more
than once, ao^ain addressed Panni Polanetzki.

'^ Have you many friends in the world of artists?'*

''My husband probably has. I have none. I only
know one — Zavilovski."

At the mention of this name, Panni Osnovski became
enthusiastic. She had long desired to make his ac(iuaint-
aiice. "Let Yuzia himself say, if she did not." She
recently read a poem of his with Linetti named "Ex imo,''

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Hiotographic

Sciences

Corporation

33 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y 14580

(716) 872-4503

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and Linetti wlio possessed an aptitude for cliariVjieiiziiij*
tliin^^s with one single word, said. ... *' Wliat did slui
say ? " '' That tlieie is something harmonious, metallic,"
eonliinied auntie.

" That's righi, melallic's the word. I always fancied
Zavilovski something molded. . . . How dt^'s he look?"

''Of low statuie," said J\)lanetzki, ''stout, over fifty
years old, and not a liair on his bald head."

" The faces of Osnovski and liinetti grew elongated.
Disappcjintment was fairly written on their features.
Marinya lauglied and reassured them.

"Do not believe him," said she, " he is a l)ad man and
loves to joke. Zavilovski is young, somewhat coy and
wikl and resembles Wagnei."

" This means that his head is long — the head of a
Polechivelle," remarked Polanctzki.

Hut (^novska [)aid no further attention to Polanetzki's
witticisms, but asked Marinya to acquaint her with Zav-
ilovski as soon as [)ossible.

*' We will try," said she, '' to make liim feel good and
comfortable in our midst, that l»e should cease to be
wild. l>ut, after all, this is not im])()rtant. He ought to
be wild at the approach of i)eoi)le — like an eagle in a cage.
But he will make u[) with Linetti, but the is also wrapt
up in herself, is mysterious like a s^jirit."

" It seems to me that every extraordinary man," began
the " sweet" aunt.

But the Polanetzkis began to bid farewell, and soon
after de[)arted. In the ante-chand)er they came U[)on Ko-
povski, who had his shoes shined by the valet, while he
cond)ed his hair, his head looking as though chiseled from
marble. On the street, Polanetzki observed to his wife —
" That cha[) willbehandy at the Florentine nights. He is
also a s[)hinx I "

" If he would oidy stand motionless in a niclie ! " re-
l)lied Marinya. " However, they are nice women, these
ladies."

" Hi>w peculiar I " continued Polanetzki. "Panni Os-
novski is rather good looking, and still I ])refer the homely
Panni Mashko. As to Piinna Castelli, she is, indi'ed, very
pretty, though a little too tall. Did you notice that sho

it! '

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is constantly spoken of while she lierself never ntters a

word :

" Slie is considered verv intelliirent, hnt she's as timid
as Zavilovski. We will liave to intioduce them to eai-h
otlier."

Hut one accident prevented this ])lan from heint^ real-
ized. The foUowintii' day afler tlie visit, Marinya s(nnd)h'(l
on tlie stairs and sprained lier knee so hadly that she was
laid up for several <hiys. I'ohinct/ki ixww alarnuMl, ])ut
wlien the physician reassuied liim that tliere was no
danq-er, lie grnmhled : ''You nuist remember tliat your
lieallh is precious not to yourself alone."

She suffered ]>oth from her fall and from the slif^lit
which slie thought his words contained. For several days
lie neglected his ollico duties attending to her needs.
I^efore hreakfast he read aloud to her, after breakfast lie
woiked in an adjoining room with the doors open. Seeing
his care and svmpathv, she thaiiked him. He kissed her
brow and said : "■ It's my duty. Even stiangei's (;ome here
to inquire about your iK^dth. Her friends were, indeed,
lavish in their visits. Zavilovski (;ame, Paiini lii^'-el came
in the morning, Pan liigel in the evening.

The latter invariably sat at the piano and entertained
her with music. The Mashkos and l*anni lironich canio
twice, and left their cards, ranni Osnovski, leaving her
husband in the carriage, forced her way into the room of
the patient and chattered with her for two long hours;
she spoke of her husband, of Sviiski, of Linetti and
Zavilovski, who occui)ied her thoughts <iay and night. At
last she declared to Marinya that they must addiess each
other in the intimate "thou " and invited her to .assist
her in one venture, that now hlled her biain.

" Zavilovski cannot be banislied fioni my mind, even
Yuzia began to envy him. lUit Yuzia is so unrijasonable
in many things. I am sure that they will make a nice
cou[)le, — he and I.inetti. 'I'hev are created for each
.tl - - • -

oriier

not Yuzia and Linetti T mean, but Zavilovski.
One is a poet, tlie other is a poetess. Do not laugh, and
'^ ' not think that I am j(»l<ing. You don't know I.inetti.
.She needs an extraordinary man. She would never
marry a Kopovski, for instance, although, he resembles a

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380

cherub. I never saw in my life such another face as
K()[)()vski's, and do you know what Linetti says of him :
ceatnnimhecile! May be slie has lier eyes for liiin. I
mean Zavih)vski, and it would be a brilliant idea, to liave
these two come together, fall in l.»»e, and marry. What a
lovely i)air these two would make. I imagine how llicy
Avould love each other I If only to witness that, it would
be wortli our while to arrange this match.

" I believe, however, that our i)lan will be successful.
Auntie Bronich is uneasy . . . she is looking diligently
for a husband for Linetti . . . Hut, pardon me, if my
prattle annoys you . . . but I do love to chat, especially
on the eve of some great undertaking."

Panni Polanetzki felt a strange weariness after her
visitor left, and when her husband came in she laughed at
Osnovski's enthusiasm.

" She has, however, a kind heart, and I like her, .as an
exulted woinan! And what does not flash thiough hei
empty head ! "

" She is * affected' rather than * exulted ' " replied Pola-
netzki, " and there is a vast difference. Exultation goes
hand-in-hand with kindness of heart, while affectation is
allied to dryness, and is often the result of the fact, that
the head is active and talking, while the heart is dormant."

— " You don't like Panni Osnovski."

It was true. He gazed at his wife, and her beauty
dazzled his eye : her hair fell in tresses upon the i)illow
and her little face peeped out from that dark wave, like a
flower; the eyes seemed bluer still, and through the half
open lips a row of fine white teeth was visible.

" How beautiful you are to-day ! " said he, bending down
and kissing her eyes and lips.

But every kiss shook her whole being and caused lier
pain. It was disagreeable to her, that he appeared to have
noticed her beauty by accident, that his face changed,
grew pale at these kisses, and she*'turned away her head.

" Ah, Stach ! " pleaded she, " do not kiss me so ... so
violently . . . You know tliat I am sick."

" Yes, true, forgive me," said he with concealed anger.
And he went out of the room to examine a plan of a house
sent to him for approval.

CHAPTER XXI.

In a week Panni Polanetzki was well again, and hus*
biincland wife went to the Bigels, who had removed to
tlieir summer villa. Zavilovski was a fnsquent visitor, and,
a ireiieral favorite. At dinner he was told of the Osnovskis,
of llieir intentions to arrange Athaeno-Roman-Florentine
iiioflits, of Castelli and the interest which he aroused iu
the ladies.

•* I am glad you told me that. I will not be tempted
tliLM'e by anything in the world."

'' First you will make tlieir acquaintance iu our house,"
said Marinya.

*' Never ! " exclaimed lie, *' I will run away ! "

'• Why? You must be confident and certain not only
'ii your convictions but also in your productions."

'• Of course " — insisted Panni Bigel — "• why be ashamed,
or confused? You must look boldly into people's eyes and
tell them ! * I write, because I write ! ' "

"• I write, because I write ! " echoed Zavilovski laugh-
inn-lv.

'• You will be introduced to them in our liouse," con-
lliuied Marinya ; " then you will leave at their house your
(Mi'd, and later on some nice evening we will take you
along with us."

" I am sorry that I cannot hide my liead in the snow,
ht^'cause there is none now," replied Zavilovski, "but I
will fnid a convenient spot."

'" And if I should ask you very, very much ! "

'' Then I will go I " replied lie, blushing and looking at
her pale face.

In the evening the Polanetzkis promised to take him
ill their carriage back to town. Meanwhile Marinya said

382

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to liiiii: "Now we must use souie gentle force, you have
not seen Linetti Castelli, but as soon as you see hei\ you
will surely fall in love with her."

"1?" exclaimed he, putting his hand on his breast. —
*^I will fall in love witii Castelli '/"

'i'here was so much sincerity in his exclamation, that
he ^new confused but Panni Polanetzki was also discom-
iiled. On their I'cturn liome, Polanetzki sat silent beside
her in the carriao;e, smokiiKjf a cijjar."

" What are you thiidving of? " asked she.

"Of tilings, I discussed with Bigel," said he calmly,
shakinjj tlie ashes from his citjar.

Zavilovski thought that iiad she been his wife, he would
not think of smoking cigars, but would kneel at her feet
and i)ray to her.

And little by little, under the influence of tlie night and
the presence of a woman, he became ex;dted. After a
while he began to recite to himself, then louder, his poem,
" Snow ill the Mountains." It expressed a longing for
something inaccessible, pure, spotless. He was carried
away by liis entliusiasm and did not notice when the car-
riage readied the city. Tlie horses halted at the house of
Polanetzki, and Marinya said in parting ;

'* And so, to-morrow, for the ' five o'clock ' ! "

'* Yes," re[)lied Zavilovski kissing her hand.

Panni Polanetzki was still under the influence of the
ride in the night, the moon, and perhaps the poem. Since
their return from Home they both })rayed together at night
before retiring. After the prayer she was filled with a
holy joy, wrought by outside impressions.

iVpproaching her husband, she embraced his neck and
j)assi()nately whispered :

'^ Stacli, ought our life be thus? ought we not to make
it better ? "

lie pressed lier to his breast, and replied with careless
pride :

" Am I complaining ? "

It never entered his mind, that in this question of his
wife's there was hidden a pity and apprehension which she
did not permit to poison her soul, but wanted him to dis-
perse.

383

Tlie next day tlie 0.siiovskis\ Paiiiii liioiiicli ami Ciistelli
arrived exactly at live o'clock. Zavilovski, to avoid com-
iiig- in wlujn lliey were all assembled, was on liaml nnicli
earlier, lie was exceedim^ly shy and somcwliat clnmsy,
but both these detects possessed a certain chaim wliich
Panni Osnovski recoL^nized and appreciated. Tlie rn>t
act of the comedy beijan in whii-h tbe ladies played a most
active part. It confused liim, and lie tried to hide his
confusion in an air of artilicial freedom. Linetti alone
looked indifferent.

She was sur[)rised that at that moment she was not tlie
sun and he the moon, but just the op})Osite. The first im-
pression })ro(1uced on her by Zavilovski was ex})iessed in
the thouprht, 'Mu) comparison with Ko[)Ovski," and 1 he face
of that " imbecile " ap[>eared so vivid to lici-, that her eyes
became more sleepy than ever, and her fentures reminded
one of a China sphinx. She cast shy glances at liim.
Zavilovski spoke to Panni Polanet/.ki, the only lady
]>resent with whom he was well acquainted. Panni Os-
novski in tlie meantime prattled along jibout her prefei-
ence for the city as com))ared with the village.

" l>ut I will say candidly," continued she — "I do not
love household duties, and accounts, and for that I was
often scolded, l^esides I am somewhat lazy. But, what
should I like to do? First, to herd gvesc.'''

Zavilovski laughed. She appeared to him verynatund.
lie imagined Panni Osnovski herdiricr ceese. Her violet
eves wci'c also lauffhincf, and she soon assumed the air of
a fi'iiC and gay maiden, who s[)eaks her mind fi'cely.

*' And would you love to do it? " suddenly asked she.

" At times,"' replied Zavilovski.

''Oh, you see! Then, what else? Oh, T would like to
be a fisherman. In the morning, the stars gaze into the
blue water. Then to liang the nets before the thatched
cabin, it must be so pretty : or, if not a fisherman, then
a water-bii'd, or a sea-gull, tlyijig over meadows. Now,
the sea-GfuU is a sad bird that reminds one of mourninj^-."

Then she turned to Oastelli.

" Ah you ! Linetti, what would you like to be in the

village '' "

"■■■ :<.^

" A cobweb," replied Linetti, lifting her eyebrows.

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384

Tlie imagination of Zavilovski, as a poet, pictured for
liini a village scene; before liis eyes lay a vast expanse ot"
tiel<ls of yellow, ripe corji, and over them liuiig silvery
threads of cobwebs, calmly dangling in the blue ether of
the air and the sun.

" All, that's a beautiful picture I " exclaimed he.

And he looked attentively at l.inetti. She smiled at
liini gratefully, for his conception of the l^eauty of tin;
j)icture. At that moment the Bigels arrived. Panni
iJronich purposely barricaded Zavilovski, so he could not
stir. It was easy to guess who was the subject of their
(!onversation. Zavilovski cast shy glances at Linetti from
time to time, as if to convince himself that she was the
individual that was being discussed, though the conver-
sation was held in semi-wiiispers. The guests soon heard
the "sweet" words of Panni Bronich, as though they
were filtered through a lump of sugar:

*'And do you know that Napoleon, — that is, Victor
Hugo, blessed her?"

Zavilovski had heard so many wonderful things about
Castelli, that lie looked at her with great curiosity. Ac-
cording to Panni Bronich's stories, Linetti was a wonder-
ful child. At ten, she was very sickly. The physicians
ordered a change of climate, — sea-air — and they spent
considerable time in Stromboli.

" The child looked at the volcano, clapped her hands,
and exultingly cried: ' Oh, how nice I ' Accidentally ^v^'
came there in a hired yacht, just for a sail, without any
other purpose. We could not remain there. It was a
small desert island, with no [)lace to live in, no food, but
she would not hear of leaving it, as though feeling that
she would recover there. She did, indeed, and as you sec,
she grew up stately aud strong."

Zavilovski looked at her again with increasing interest.
Before the departure of the guests, he was finally releasol
from his captivity, and he appro; 'lied Linetti and said:
" I never saw a volcano, have no idea what they look like,
and do not know what im[)ression they make."

'' All I know is Vesuvius," replied Castelli, " and when
we saw it there was no eruption."

'^ And Stromboli ? "

385

" I don't know. I have not seen it."
" Then 1 must have lieard wrong,
aunt "

because your
I must have

" Yes, no — that is, I don't remember,
been so j'oung at that time."

And the young girl was confused. However, she was
displefised with her aunt for constantly lying. At tlic
jtarting, Panni Castelli pressed his hand with such force
lliat it confirmed tlie conviction that they niust under-
stand eacli other. The Higels remuinod for dinner, and
Zavilovski was also ])ersuaded to remain. 'J'he departed
guests soon became the topic of their conversation.

" Well, how do you like Panni Castelli ?" asked Panni
Polanetzki.

" She is rich in imagination, if nothing else," replied
Zavilovski. " Did you notice that they speak figura-
tively? But Linetti is a very interesting girl, isn't
she ? "

Polanetzki, on whom Castelli made no impression what-
ever, being hungry said impatiently :

" Oh, this is too much ! She'll be interesting, till she
gets spoiled."

**No, Linetti will never be spoiled," protested Pan!u
Polanetzki. " Only average women are spoiled ; women
wiio know no more than to love."

Zavilovski looked at her. He noticed a ring of sadness
in her words.

" You are tired?" asked he.

" Yes, a little," replied she, with a faint smile.

His young heart beat with warm sympathy. " She is a
real lily," thought lie, and Panni Osnovski in comparison
with her seemed to liim a noisy crow, and Castelli a dead
sphinx.

Meeting him the next morning in the office, Polanetzki
inquired :

"Well, did you dream of the sleeping princess? "

" No," muttered Zavilovski, blushing.

Polanetzki noticed his blush, laughed and said:

" You can't help it, my boy. You must go through all
these obstacles. I passed through mine."

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CIIAPTKU XXII.
"Matunya, oven to lit'ist'lf. never oomplained of Ii

liusbiind. There had never been si i^nave (litterenee hi
tweeii them. She was meiely eoiiseioiis tiiat line h;\\<\>\.
ness and h)ve must be sueh as slie imagined tliem to hf.
But wlien Pohinet/ki was onlv her betrothed slie liad dif-
feient i(h3as u[)on tht; matter. Ol' tliis slie convinced Ikm-
self moie and moi*e every day. Of conrse, she reasoned
that he was a man, tliat, besides her lie had a whole world of
labor and thonij^ht; as the days passed she had hojud
that he would lake her hand and lead her into tliat woiM.
or at least sh.are with her his thonohts and labor. The
reality pnn'ed worse than she imagined. Polanetzki, as
he often deelared himself, took her and owned lier. luid
therefore when their mutual feelings became merely mu-
tual obligations he deemed it unnecessary to occupy him-
self with hei more than the everyday life demanded, lie
was not romantic. lie evinced the care of a liushaiid,
and not of a h)ver ; he was not permeated with a feeling
of tenderness.

When, after the sale of Kremen, Marinya became iiidif-
ferent to his advantM's, he suffered keenly ; but wlien afkr
the death of Lida, Marinya became liis pro])eity, lie hcoan

to think of her as a piece of propeity. All his feeliu
based on physical beauty, received their reward, and were
satisfied, and only time could dull and dampen tluni.
She thought that the more she became his, the more slie
could expect and receive. She could not help noticing
that Sviiski, Bigel, Osnovski and Zavilovski looked at
her not onlv with evident interest, but even with entliu-
siasm, and only lier "Stach" alone was indifferent to lier
charms. What was the reason ? This question tormented

i\H'

her (lay and ni^lit. That I'olaiu'tzki pretoiuleil tol)e more
sidate and s()l)t'r lliaii hu really was — was nol a sullicieiit
t\|»lanalion ; tlicre it'iiiaimul, unfortiuiatcly l)iiL one answi'r:
'• lie docs iiol love me, as a man should love, thiil is wliy
111' does not appreciate me as others do."

Womaidy instinct, th.it never deceives, told Marinya
iliat slie [)ro(lnc«Ml a tremendous im[)ression upon Zav-
ildvski, that it urew in intensity with every inconnnuf
The thouiiht of this did not shock her, did not

ililV

provoke the (juestion

low ilare he

•>i

)ecause he

wnturcd not, risked nothin<j^. On the contrary, lie en-
lour.ii^ed her, sticn^j^thened liei' faith in her own beauty,
which faith she bes^an to lose ; and this encouraijement,
this sympathy, was the more })ainful because it was
not her *^ Stach " who performed this kind otlice. It
\v;is not in her nature to take (lcli<dit in others' miserv,
iiiid not wishinir^to allow his f(!elin_y"s to lead him too
far, she eagerly joined I^anni Osnovski in her plan to
arrange a match between Zavilovski and Castelli.

One afternoon she was sittin<^ alone as usual, lost in a
tangle of thoUL,dits and (juestions. Suddenly the door
(>[icned and on the thieshold a[)[)eared the white hood and
gray dress of a Sister of Mercy.

'• Emilya I" exclaimed Marinya joyfully.

'' Yes 'tis I," replied the Sister. '•' We are free to-day,
ami I came to look you up. Where is Stanislav?"

"Stanislav is at Alashko's, ])ut I believe he will soon be
hack. Sit down, take a rest

» "

Panni Chavastovska sat dow'n.

*• I would visit you more frequently," said she, "but I
liave no time. To day I am free. ... I have been to
Ah, if you knew how [^reen and frai^rant it is

Li.l;

tlu'K* now, and what a multitude of birds

t "

IS ni
Slac

Yes, we also were there a few davs ac^o. Everything
full

bloom, and so quiet and so calm ! what a pity
li is not lionK

\ "

es, 1 am very, verysorrv

He still has a few letters

. \/ \i *j

111)111 Lida, and I wished to ask him to lend them to me
for a few days. I will })e here again next week and bring
them back."
Panui Chavastovska spoke cahnly of Lida, perhaps

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1)ecause slie hereelf was now l>ui the shadow of a living
creature, wliich soon must vanish. Her thoughts were no
k)r.ger absorbed in the caliiniity that hud befallen her, and
the previous Indifference to everything was gone. As a
Sister of Mercy she came again in contact with people,
slie could feel and share their joys and sorrows, even their
})ettv surprises and disappointments.

'" How nice you liave it here," said slie after a pause.
"After our white convent walls everything liere seems so
rich! In former times Polanetzki was so lazy: he visited
only myself and the Bigels. Now, I presume, he is dif-
ferent, and you receive a good deal."

" No. We only have on our list Mashko, Bronich and
the Osnovskis."

" Ah ! I know Panni Osnovski. I knew her when she
was a girl. I knew both the Hronichis and their niece:
then she was a little tot. Pan Bronich ^lied two years
ago. I know their whole history ! "

Panni Polanetzki laughed.

— " At all events, more tlian I do ! I made their ac-
quaintance in Rome."

*' 'Tis not surprising. I have lived so many yeara in
Warsaw, and I knew everybody. Though I spent my
da^'s and evenings at home, the social world interested me.
I was so light-minded ! and your Stach, too, was ac-
quainted with Panni Osnovski."

" Yes, he told me of it : they had met at balls."

"Then she wished to marry Kopovski, but her father
would not permit it. However, she made a splendid
match. Osnovski is a good man, is he not ? "

"And so very kind to her ! I did not know she wished
to marry Kopovski. . . . and it surprises me. . . . such
an intelligent woman !

" Thank God, she is happy, could she but appreciate it.
Happiness is such a rare thing, and one ought to handle it
very carefully ! I have learned to look at the world dis-
passionately, as only people can look at it who desire
nothing for themselves. . . . And do you know what
strikes me frequently ? that happiness is like the eyes,
which can be blinded by a grain of dust, and shed abun-
dant tears."

as9

"Oil, that is absulutuly Liue!" conrirmed ^lar'mya,
Muilin^' sadly.

A moiuLMiliiry silence ensued. Panni C'havastovska
looktnl attentively at Maiinya, laid her transparent hand
(HI Marinya's and asked:

'• Well, and you, Mar'mya. . . . you are happy, of
course r

Marinya wanted to cry, but she made a supreme effort
and cheeked her tears. Her fine soul was shocked at the
thou^dit tliat her tears and sadness could appeal- to Emilya
as a complaint of her husband, and, callinir to her aid all
licr will-power, she overcame her emotion and replied :
'• if oidy my Stach was happy ! "

She raised her moist eyes to Panni Chavastovska. The
latter said :

'' l^ida will pray for your happiness. T merely asked tlie
(piestion, because you looked so gloomy. Hut 1 know
how wretched he was when you were angry at him on
account of Kiemen."

iMarinya's face was lighted b}-- a happ}^ smile. Every
word of his former love was sweet to her ; and she was
ready to listen to that story her whole life.

Panni Chavastovska continued :

'' And you, bad, foolish child ! You were so unmerciful,
you could not appreciate or esteem sincere affection, so
that I often was angered at your conduct, and was afraid
It'st Stanislav should grow tired of this life, become de-
mented, and put an end to his misery. It usually happens
that when theie is a plait or fold in the depth of one's
licart, it can never be smoothed again."

Marinya glanced at Panni Chavastovska and closed her
eves, as a new thought flashed aci'oss her mind.

*■' CT

"Ah, Emilya, Emilya ! " exclaimed she, *'how well you
speak ! "

Panni Chavastovska's name was now Sister Anelia, but
Marinya called her Emilya as of yore.

Sister Anelia expiessed her desire to go home. In vain
were Marinya's pleadings to remain till the return of her
husband: she was expected in the convent, and could stay
no longer. However, in true woman-fashion they chatted
at the door for fifteen minutes, and finally tL , Sister went

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away, with the promise to visit tlie Polanetzkis the follow-
ing Sunday. Marinya escorted her friend to the street,
returned to the room and satin her chair near the window.
Dropping her head on her hands slie fell into a dee[)
meditation over the woids of Painii Chavastovska, and
tinally uttered aloud : *' yes, it is all ni}'^ own fault ! "

It seeiiied to her that she had found the key to the rid-
dle. She had sinned, and sin must be atoned for, she must
hive her "• Stacli " so that he should recover ail he had
h)st. What she v/anted was patience, to bear her cross,
not to bewail her fate but to thank God and '' Stach " for
this life, whatever it is. If she meets with grief she will
quietly bury it in the bottom of her heart, and remain
silent for years, until God shall in his mercy grant her
relief. "I will not blunder now," reflected Marinya, and
again she wanted to cry, but from joy ; but the thought
that her Stach would soon return and find her in tears
overmastered all others. He came very soon indeed.
Marinya's first instinct was to throw herself into his arms,
but she suddenly felt so guilty before him, that an unex-
pected timidity kept her back.

" Was anybody here ? " asked he, kissing her forehead.

" Emilya was here, but she would not wait for you.
She will come again next Sunday."

" Oh, my God ! " exclaimed lie with displeasure. '* You
know how I long to see her. Why did you not send for me ?
You knew where I was, but never gave me a thought ! '*

And Marinya, like a child that wants to justify itself,
began in a voice trembling with tears : " No, Stach. On
the contrary, I I've you so dearly ... I always — always
think of you I "

391

CHAPTER XXin.

" Now, tlien, ladies and gentlemen, you see," gaily said
Zavilovski iit Bi^eTs— " I have been to the Osnovskis. At
first I was looked upon as a wolf or a panther, but I
proved to be a tame beast, hurt no one, biulre nothing,
and responded to questions more or less logically. I have
long noticed that i'. is easier to get along than it would
seem, and only in the first moments am I afilicted by a
desire to run. Those ladies, of course, are in their own
spheres — so free, so unceremonious."

" But don't you lead us away from the main subject.
Tell us all about it."

"Very well. To begin with, I lost my way— did not
know where I was, what to do, where the Osnovskis lived,
where Panni Bronich was, whether it was to be one call
for the two families, or two."

— " Two, of course, they live apart. Panni Bronich
has her own apartments, tliougli the parlor they use in
connuon."

'' Tliat's just it. I found them all assembled in the
]Kirlor. And Panni Osnovski was the first to relieve mo
by declaring that she willingly shares the honor of my
visit with Panni Bronich, and further calls can be dis-
pensed with. I found there also Panni Mashko and Ko-
povski. The latter is such a liandsome man, that his
head for the common good miglit be covered with a velvet
bag, such as the jewelers use for diamonds. . . Who's that
Kopovski ? "

" A fool," replied Polanetzki. "This word comprises
his name, liis means of support, his occupation, and all
further distinctions. I cloul)t, if even his passport con-
tains any other."

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" I understand. Now there becomes clear to me some of
his words which X heard. He posed, and the dear hidies,
sketched his portrait. Panni Osnovski in oils, standing.
Panna Castelli, aquarel, — profile. Both liad white aprons
on, both looked exceedingly well. Panni Osnovski evi-
dently, only recently began to study, while Castelli wields
the brush and pencil like a real paijiter."

" What was the nature of your conversation ? "

" First of all we discussed the state of your health," re^
plied Zavilovski, addressing Marinya. . . "and I old them
that you were growing prettier every day. Then painting
in general, and portraits in particular, were tlie subject.
I remarked to Castelli that she flattered Kopovski. She
insisted that she was not to blame, — it was. . . his own
nature. She id a lovely girl, and she said this very
Icmdly. I bui\st out laughing, the rest followed my ex-
ample, and with them Kopovski himself. His must be a
unique character. He announced that he looked worse
to-day for lack of sleep, that he longed to throw himself
into the embraces of Orpheus."

—"Orpheus?"

'* Yes. And Osnovski unceremoniously corrected him to
Morpheus ; but he did not submit to the correction and
persisted that he saw that phiy many times, and remem-
bered it well. Naturally, the dear ladies are amusing
themselves royally, but thanks to his beauty, are all too
■willing to paint his portrait. However, Cast^^lli is a re-
maikable artist, showing me with her pencil various out-
lines on Kopovski's portraits. She even blushed: 'what
a line ! What tones ! ' exchiimed she. It nuist be ad-
mitted that she at the moment resembled a muse. She
declared that she is very fond of painting portraits, that
she thinks of every face as of a model, that extraordinary
heads appear to her in dreams at night."

" And you will be the heio of her droam.-^ in the begin-
ning, then you will pose for her," interj)osed Marinya ! '' I
am almost certain, and it will be well."

"Oil, yes, siie actually told me," re})lied Zavilovski,
"(hat this was a tax slie levied on all her 'intimate
friends,' and then she turned to me directly and expressed
her desire to sketch my portrait; but vve*e it not for

393

;.;:;>.^

Paiini Bronicli this would never Lave come up for con-
sideration."

" Oh, Paiuii Bronich played the Muse's hand ! '*
sneered Poianetzki.

'' At an; rate, it will all be well," repeated Maiinya.

''Why?" inquired Zavilovski, gazing at her with his
timid, restless ghuice. The idea that she purposely
pushed him into the embrace of anotlier, because she
(Uvined what was taking place in his own heart, shocked
liim.

•• Because," replied Marin}^^, " tliough I know Linetti
very little,, and can only judge from the first impression
and from what I have heard about her, yet it appears to
ine that she is an extraordinary type, and 'tis well that
you made Inr acquaintance."

'' I also base my judgment on the first impression," said
the reassured Zavilovski; "but I think Panna Castelli is
less superficial tlian Panni Osnovski. They are both
very pretty, very amiable, young ladies. . . Maybe I can-
not describe them. I know the world so little. Bui
leaving tliem, I felt as though I liad occupied a seat in
tlie same car with beautiful pud jolly foreign ladies tliat
entertain, chat, laugh, and no more. There is in them
something strange, foreign. You do not feel in their
presence that you were raised on the same soil, under the
same sun.'*

" What opinions that poet sports ! " observed Polanetzki.

Zavilovski became animated, and on his tender fore-
head appeared arteries :n the shape of the letter V.
He understood that in the Tindervaluing of those ladies he
conveyed unstinted praise for Marinya, and this made him
talkative.

'* Besides," resumed he, " there exists a certain instinct
that divines all good intentions and well-wishing of your
fellow-man. There you cannot discover it. They are
amiable, hospitable, but it all lias the repugnant odor of
formalism, and tlierefore I conclude that sincere peo})le
will meet with many disappointments there. It's awfuily
unpleasant to take friendly chaff for grain. As for my-
self, this is why I am in mortal fear of j)eople, for although,
as Pan Polanetzki puts it, I have opinions of my own, yet

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I am well aware that I waver after all, and this often per-
plexes me to a great extent. My nerves do not toleniie
sucli things."

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" I^ecause you possess an honest nature," said
Bii^el.

He stretched out his long hand, with wliicli he was
accustomed to gesticulate when he forgot his tiniiditv
and wished to speak freely, and said :

"Frankness in life, as in art, is the only great virtue.''

But Marinya undertook the defense of the hidies.

"People, and men especially, are frequently unjust and
accept their own opinion as facts. As to Osnovski and
Castelli, how can one pass judgment on them after he had
seen them only twice? They are jolly, good-naturod,
liospitable, and whuiice comes all this if not from pure
kindness of heart?"

Then, turning to Zavilovski, she began to pique him,
now jokingly, then seriously.

"And still you are not as honest as Panni Bigel claims,
for these ladies are lavish in praising you, while you seem
to have nothins: but scorn for them."

" Well, my dearest, you are becoming extiemely art-
less j'ourself. You are measuring the world with your
own yard-stick," interrupted her husband. "Accidentid
goodness and affability can only be prompted b}' egoism
that strives to have a gay old time. If you respect sin-
cerity so highl3%" added he to Zavilovski, " there she is
face to face with you — a real type."

" I know, I know ! " exclaimed Zavilovski with rapture.

" And did you want me to be otherwise ? " laughingly
asked Marinya.

" No," replied her Imsband, joining in her laughter,
" but how lucky for instanoo, that you are no longer ;x
little one and need not high-heeled shoes, for if you wore
them you would always suffer from a congested conscience,
because you deceived the world."

Marinya, noticing that Zavilovski's admiring glances
turned to her feet, unwillingly hid them behind her
chair, and changing the tone of the conversation, asked :
" How soon will your collection of poems see the light of
day ? "

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895

'* In a few dnys, at least that was my first intention,
but I added a new poem, and it will be delayed some-
what."

May we know the name of that new creation? "
A Lily."

" Is not Linetti your lily ? "

" No."

Panni Polanetzki's face became grave and serious. It
w;is easy to conjecture that tlic poem was dedicated to
lier, and she was surprised that only herself and Zavilov-
ski were aware of that fact, and this laid tlie foundation
to a sort of secret, known only to them. She did not like
it. It seemed inconsistent withtliat discussion of sincerity
just held, and sinful toward her husband.

Zavilovski, who became attached to Marinya with the
egoism of an idler, to whom that feeling was pleasing and
lie wished no more, finally understood that Marinya read
tlie secrets of his heart as an open book, and if he did not
succeed in closing that book to her glances, their relations
would be abruptly ended. And he began to ponder how
to avoid the loss of all he possessed, and not only have the
opportunity of seeing Marinya, but to see her more often.
At last he decided on a course that led, as he believed,
along a straight- road.

'' I will pretjiid to full in love with Panna Castelli,"
said he to himself — " and will tell Maiinya of m}*^love . . .
this will not only not tear us apart, it will bring us nearer
together. ... I will make her my patroness."

lie really began to imagine that lie was enraptured
with the "sleeping queen," that he is unhapi)y and con-
it'sses his love to Marinya, who listens to him with
moistened eyes, and like a sister, puts her tender liand on
Ills forehead. This play of fancy seemed so natural and
vivid, tlie impressions so great, tlun he actually fancied
tliL' expression, the forms of si)eech he would use in telling
Maiinya of his tribulations that she might feel for him.

Ueturning home with her husband, Panni Polanetzki
thought of tlie poem which Zavilovski entitled, " A Lily."
As a woman, she was iiartly interested in him and partly
feared him. She feared those complications that might
arise in her relations toward Zavilovski in the future, and

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under tlie influence of these misgivings, she saitl to hi i-
husband :

" Do you know, Stach, I think Linetti would insure
Zavilovski's happiness forever."

" Probably. But tell nie what do you want with tliiit
Zavilovski and that giil ? "

" I am not a match-maker, I am only suggesting-.
True, Anette Osnovski is all aflame with it, but tliis is not.
surprising: she is so lively, so inflammable, like a spark."'

''Not so lively as daring, and believe me, not so art-
less as she appears to be. Slie has her own i)laiis. At
times I believe thatCastelli is interesting her as much as
she does me, that at the bottom of it all theie is some-
thing else."

"What else?"

'* I do not know; probably, because it does not interest
me in the least. As a rule I distrnst these ' dear ladies.' "'

Their conversation was interrupted by Mashko who was
approaching their house in a hansom. At the siglit
of them he hastened to greet Marinya, and then said to
Polanetzki :

" I am glad we met. I am going away in a few (hiys
and as your note is due to-day I brought you the money.
I liave seen your father," added he, turning to Maiinya.
" Pan Plavitski feels splendidly, and only persists that lie
pines for the village, for housekeeping, and therefore con-
templates buying a small estate in the suburbs. I told
him that if we win our case he might retain Ploshkoff."

The conversation was not pleasant to Marinya. It
sounded ironical and she did not wish to continue it. A
few minutes later Polanetzki led Mashko away into the
study.

" Everything all right? " asked he.

*' Here is a part of the money due you," evasively re-
plied Mashko, " be kind enougli to give me a receipt."

Polanetzki sat down at his desk and made out a receipt.

"And now, there's another little affair," continued
Mashko. " Some time ago I sold you an oak forest with
the condition that I miglit come into possession of it
again on the payment of the oiigiiial and interest. I hoi)e
you have nothing against it. I ought to thank you for it;

397

you have done me a great service, and if you ever are iu
a similar position, please come to me without ceremony.
A service for a service ! You know that 1 like to bo
grateful."

'*I think tliat monkey wants to patronize me," thought
Polanetzki, '^ and liad he not been hi:^ guest, he woukl
})erhaps, have let him know his opinion of the matter, but
lie con ti oiled himself and said :

"*! have nothing at all to say, for such was our agree-
ment, and I never paid mucli attention to it."

"' I shall know how to appreciate it," patronizingly re-
plied ?vlashk().

" Well, and how are your affairs generally? I see that
you are gfoinj; full-sail."

The cause of the charitable institutions is placed in the
liiiiids of a new lawyer, one Seliodka (herring). A beau-
tiful name, is it not? Were I to call my cat by that
name, the feline would cry itself dead. But I shall put
})lenty of pepper on that Seliodka, and devour him. You
iisk how my affairs are ? Ig's more than probable that at
the end of the process, I will safely climb out of that mire
of law as a profession, which, to tell you tlie truth, is
not to my taste at all, and will take up my residence in
Kremen."

" With plenty of cold cash in your pocket?"

" Yes. Enough of law ! Besides, whoever traces his
origin to the earth, will always return to it. This heredity
is absorbed with the mother's milk. But let's drop this.
To-morrow afternoon, as I said before, I will leave War-
saw. I leave my wife in your gentle care, for old Painii
luaslovska went to Vienna to an oculist. I have one
iiioie visit to make : to the Osnovskis, tliat they, too, may
remember my wife in my absence."

" As to ourselves, we will be delighted ! " replied
Polanetzki.

"Plow long have you been acquainted with the
Osnovskis ? " added he, recalling his conversation with
liis wife.

'• A few months. But my wife has known them longer.
Osiiovski is a rich man. He had but one sister, and an
uncle, a miser, who died and willed him an imraense for-

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tune. As to lier, what can one say ? She reads a good
deal, anything that conies into lier hands, she had and still
has pretensions to being clever, and ... in a word . . .
of being almost everything else one can jjossibly pretend
to be. Jf I'll add that she was in love with Kopovski,
you will know Ijer whole biography."

" And Painii Bronich, and Castelli ? "

'^ Castelli is liked more by women than by men. Tliis
is an ominous sign. But alter all I can say of her liiile
more than is said by the world at huge. - The same
Kopovski courted her, or does so now. Panni Bronich "

Mashko laughed aloud.

" Panni Bronich the Khedive of Egypt escorted to llie
summit of the 2)yramid of Cheops; the late Alphonso,
King of Spain, said to her every morning: £on jotir^
madame la comtesse! Musse inscribed verses in lier
album in 1856, and Von Moltke sat on her trunk at
Karlsbad. In short, she was everywhere since Castelli
grew up, or, rather, rose a few inches. The "sweet " aiuit
** travels " at the expense of her niece, in which she is
generously assisted by Panni Osnovski. I don't know
with what motive. This is all, unless I say a few words
of the late Pan Bronich. He died six years ago, from an
unknown disease, because his affectionate wife is .ahviivs
inventing a new one, adding to it that he was the last of
tlie princes (one of the three princes that founded tlie
Russian empire, and almost the father of tlie Slavs), and
neglecting to mention the fact that he was the manasrer of
the estates of the Radultovskis, in which occupation lie
made a fortune. But enough ! 'Vanity fair! . . .' Faie-
thee-well, do your business right, and in case of need count
on me. If I knew that such an occasion would soon
present itself I would exact your promise to turn to no one
else exce[)t myself. Farewell ! "

And Masliko, shaking Polanetzki's hand, went away.

Polanetzki shrugged his shoulders and said :

" I ought to be tliankful that he did not slap my, back!
Vanity fair, vanitv fair ! Such a shrewd man, too, and
he cannot see through the most simple thing — namely,
that emptMiess in liimself which he ridicules in others.
Recently he seems to have changed ; the man ceased to

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309

pretend, but no sooner did the crisis pass than he became
possessed of the devil."

Polanetzki recollected what Vaskovski said of the
bluiUowness of mind and eternal comedy.

" And yet such people seem to thrive ii^ our midst,"
mused he.

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CHAPTER XXIV.

Panni Osnovski entirely forgot her "Florentine-
Roman nights." She was surprised when her husband
reminded her of it. What nights ! Could she think of
such trifles now ! Her mind was entirely absorbed with
the "taming of the eagle." Osnovski listened to tlie cluit-
ter of his wife, melted in admiration, and at every availa-
ble opportunity tried to seize her hands and cover them
with kisses, even to the very elbows. Once he put to lier
the same question that Polanetzki asked his wile :

"What do you want of that Zavilovski?"

" La reine s' amuse .'" coquettishly replied she. " It does
not take great science to write books — only a little talent,
and that's all. But to bring into real, actual life v/hat tlie
books propagate is a much more complicated task, and it's
amusing, too. Maybe, I have my own motives," added
she after a pause — "and if I have, you ought to guess it."

" I will whisper it in your ear.'*

She turned to him her ear with a roguish look, and
winked her violet eyes, but to Osnovski it was an oppor-
tunity to kiss that pink ear, and repeated her secrets in
the words :

"ia reine s^armisef^*

And he was right. Panni Osnovski had her own
motives in conspiring to unite Linetti with Zavilovski.
All romantic ventures amused and interested her greatly.
With these intentions she frequently visited Painii
Polanetzki to gain some information about " the eagle,"
and often returned home with glowing reports; for
Zavilovski, wishing to allay the suspicions of Marinya,
began to speak often of Linetti. His diplomacy proved
fruitful. Once Panni Osnovski asked Marinya if, in her
opinion, Zavilovski was not deep in the meshes of love, to

401

wliich Panni Polanetzki answered : " He is, but you are not
liis goddess, nor am I. Tlie apple C)f priority belongs to
Linetti, and for us it is to cry, laugh or to se* k consolation."

Young Panna C'astelli at llie same time lived in con-
stant subjection to her thoughts and feelings. Fiom
morning till night it was hammered into her that " the
eagle " was captured, that he is at her feet, that such an
exceptional being as she cannot but feel it. This flat-
tered her vanity. Painting the portrait of Koj)ovski she
exulted in her own admiration of his features, and loved
him because he was the subject of much uiscussion which
to her proved his undoubted shrewdness and wit.

She loved him for many other reasons. But Zavilovski
was also quite handsome, though he persisted in not wear-
ing a beard, not wearing good clothes. But he had the
wings of an eagle to offset all otlier defects ; and a soul
like hers, people claimed, was bound to understand him.
Everybody said the same ! Osnovski, who, adoring his
wife, loved everything else that iiad some relation to lier,
took a warm interest in the matter. Zavilovski was a
sympathetic chap. The information he gathered about
him was all in his favor. He was somewhat wild, proud
and obstinate, besides secretive, but a very able man.
When all these characteristics charmed the ladies, Osnovski
determined seriously to do something. Zavilovski's con-
duct justified the general view of the affair. He appeared
frequently in the " common " parlor and devoted more
time to Linetti. It was noticed that his glance rested on
the young girl very often, that when she paced the room
liis eyes followed her. To diplomacy was added curiosity.
However, things took a serious turn when his first vol-
ume of poems appeared. His poems had attracted attention
before, but were soon forgotten, owing to the long inter-
vals in their publication in periodicals. Now a volume of
tliem made a tremendous impression. There was a power
in his poems, a sparkling sincerit}- that was striking. His
style, too, now ringing with a clear sound, seemed to bend
and fly at the same time and assume tlie finest tunes,
shapes and forms. The sensation grew in intensity and
soon the whispers of praise became a matter of surprise
and astonishment, and as is usual in such cases — exagger-
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ations. His poems receivetl the stump of approvjil, hut
they were over-estinuiteil. From udilorial rooms liis ii;imo
passed into the liomes of the puhlic. He beeame the talk
of tlie town and aioiised the more interest, from tiie tiuit
that lie was absolutely unknown. Old and wealthy
Zavilovski, the father of Helen, who was aecustomed to
say tliere were only two portions of punishment in tlie
woild : The gout and poor relatives, now re})lied to all in-
terrogations : " Miiis oui, mais oui, — e'est mon cousin ! '*
Such an opinion from the old man was a good omen to all,
especially to Paniii Hronich. Even Osnovski and Castelli
were finally reconciled with the "tasteless " i)in in Zavil-
ovski's scarf, and began to consider it " original." Thanks
to the appearance of the volume, in tlie oflice of Bigel and
Polanetzki all was joy and haj)piness. The old cashier
Valkovski, the agent Abdul/.ki and the bookkeeper
Pozniakovski were proud of their comrade, as if his glory
laid its shadows upon the whole establishment. Bigel
meditated for twc long days, and Unally reached the con-
clusion that Zavilovski could not subsist on the modest
salary he received from the firm. But when he questioned
Zavilovski, the latter replied :

" Good ! Very good, my friend ! Because people choose
to talk about me, you wish to rob me of my piece of bread
and pleasant comradeship. I could not find a publisher,
and had it not been for that same salary the book would
never have seen daylight."

Such arguments could not be disputed. Zavilovski clung
to his position. From that day he became a frequent
visitor at the houses of Bigel and Polanetzki. For a week
after the publication of his poems, he did notappear in the
*' common parlor " of the Osnovskis, feeling that he had
committed a crime. He was finally ])ersuaded by the com-
bined eloquence of Panni Bigel and Polanetzki to go there.
He called one evening and found them all leaving the
house for the theater. Tli^y expressed a desire to remain
at home, to which he would not consent. He willingly
accompanied them.

'* An excellent idea ! " exclaimed Panni Osnovski.
" Yuzia will buy another ticket for himself in the orches-
tra."

403

And "Ynzia'' boiicrlit a ticket. Zavilovski occupied
with Liuetti tlie front seats in the box. J';inni Osnovski
and Piinni Hronich .nut hehind tliein. IJotli hidies an-
nounced thiiL tliev would he their '" mother." and therefore
gave U[) tlieir choic(^ seats.

** Vou can i^o aliead and s{)oak of anything you like,"
said I'anni ()sn()vski with a roguish smile, '"and if any-
body comes into the box, I will engage them in convei-sa-
tion, so tliat no one will interfere with you."

When it was known in the audi«jiu'e who it was that
Wfas sitting in that box, the eyes of the majority' of tho
people were directed towards them.

()n lier part, Panni Osnovski kept her j)romise, anil
when Kopovski entered her box,slie began to chatter witli
him so livel} that he hardly had time to greet Castelli and
to say to Zavilovski :

— ■•*' All, you are writing poems I "

After this discovery he added :

— " I would like very much to read poems, but, strange
to say, whenever I read them, I begin to think of some-
thing else."

The young girl cast upon Inm a significant glance, alid
it would be hard to say, whether it expressed anger or
surprise of an artisfr^ for his brainless liead appeared in tlie
shade of the box, like the portrait of a celebrated artist.
• After the performance Panni Osnovski invited the poet
to partake of tea, and lie dei)arted witli them. But they
had hardly arrived home, when Panni Bronich began to
reprimand Zavilovski :

— '* You are a bad man," exclaimed she, " and if any-
thing happens to Linetti, I will declare you guilty.
Think of it, tlie child does not eat, drink, or sleep, and is
continually reading your poems ! "

— '' And I also have cause for complaint ! " added Panni
Osnovski, " she has a co})y of your book and refuses it to
everybody ; and when we get angry, do you know what
she ci-ies ?'

'' It is mine ! It is mine I "

Though Linetti had not the book at this moment, 3'et
she piessed her hand to her breast, as if she would defend
it against an attack, and answered calmly and softly ;

1 '■

404

— " Because it is indeed mine, yes, mine ! "

Zavilovski looked at her, and something went straight
to her heart.

Returning home, he passed the house of Polanetzki,
where a light was to be seen. After the performance and
his talk with the Osnovskis he felt somewhat dazed, but tlie
light in the windows startled liim. The pure and fault-
less image of Panni Polanetzki appeared before his eyes,
and attracted him with great i)Ower. He felt as one who
tliinks of sometliiiig good and precious, and on his way
home he recited to himself a part of his poem, *'Thc
Lily," tlie most ins2)iring he had ever written.

But there was good cause for the light burning late in
Polanetzki's house. After their evening tea Marinya
suddenly grew pale, then flushed, and cried excitedly:
*' Stach ! "

— "What is the matter, dear?" he asked, surprised at
her exclamation and excitement.

— **Come nearer, and I will tell you."

And she embraced him and whispered something, after
which lie kissed her and said :

— " But don't be excited. . . It may harm you. . . ."

However, he also was agitated, and nervously began to
pace up and down. Tiien lie kissed her and remarked :

— " Usually, men wish that their first-born would be a
boy, but my desire is to have a girl and to name her Lida.
Bear it in mind."

They could not get asleep for a long time, which ac-
counts for Zavilovski having seen the light in their house.

405

CHAPTER XXV.

A WEEK later, when the condition of Marinya had been
ascertained, Polanetzki communicated the glad news to
tlie Bigels and Panni Bigel hurried to Panni Polanetzki,
who began to weep, pressing herself to her friend's bosom.

— >^I think," said she, " that Stach will :iovv love me

more."

— " How is it more ? " asked Panni Bigel.

— '^ I meant to say, still more ! You know : it is never
enough for me, I am always discontented.'*

Meanwhile Marinya dried her tears, and began to
HHiile.

— '• My God ! " exclaimed she, clasping her hands as
for prayer, *' send me a daughter ! . . . My husband wants
only a daughter."

— '^ And what would you like ?"

— '' I ?— But don't tell it to Stach : I would prefer a
boy, but let it be a daughter."

And she added pensively :

— " Nature will not consult us, is it not so?"

— ** Of course not," laughed Panni Bigel, " we are quite
helpless in this respect.'*

At the same time Bigel made it known in the office
tliat the firm would soon have a new partner, a tiny Pola-
netzki, and w-hen Polanetzki appeared, all the clerks
warmly congratulated him, except Zavilovski, wlio pre-
tended to be absorbed in liis w'ork. But fearing tliat his
silence would attract the attention of all present, he sliook
hands with Polanetzki, and repeated with a broken voice:

— " I congratulate you ! I congratulate you ! "

Now it seemed to him that he was foolish and comical,
and that the whole world was tremendously flat and dull.
And when he thought of his poems, ins|)ired b^^The

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400

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l^ily," lie felt quite miserable. What a fool lie was ! "Wliv
liad lie not foreseen such a course of events I Had ho
opened his heart to her, had she rejected liim -with con-
tempt, and had Polanetzki tiirown him out, there wouM
be, at least, sometlung dramatic, but now — it is too stupid I
His sensitive nature could not endure this rule sIkx k,
though his love for Marinya was not strong and deep.
The hours he had to pass in the oflice seemed to him ;iu
endless torture. One moment he rose to take his hat and
go away to return no more. But, hap[)ilj, he was soon
relieved, by the time for closing, and all began to leavo
the office.

Passing by the mirror in the antechamber lie caught
a glance of his face, which seemed to him to look so ridic-
ulous, that he said to himself:

' How buffoonlike I look I " He did not go to diniicr
with the bookkeeper as usual, but shut himself up in his
room, feeling quite miserable and ridiculous. But after a
few days he became calm ; feeling, however, a void in liis
heart. He did not visit the Polanetzkis for two weeks,
and when he met Marinya at BigeTy country home, he
was very disagreeably affected by her changed appearance:
There was no great change in her except her face had losi
its former freshness. She looked siid, as if dishearfened.
Zavilovski, who was after all kind-hearted, could not look
at her without some feeling of })ain.

But if her face was changed, her kindness and benevo-
lence remiiined as before. She heartily greeted Zaviiov-
ski, asked about Castelli, and noticing that he v.;is
unwilling to speak of her, she began to smile pleasantly,
and said cheerfully:

— '* Well, v/ell ; but they are surprised at not havin*,^
seen you for so long a time, and do j'ou know what Anctlt;
and Panni Bronich told me? Thoy said;^ — but I cannot
repeat it in the presence of all. Let us walk in the giu-
den."

She rose to go, but so awkwardly that she stumbled and

nearly

fell.

— *' Look out!'* shouled Polanetzki.
She looked at him in dismay and said, blushing: "But
it was accidental, Stach I "

407

—"You niiist not frighieii lier!" interrupted Panni
Bi.L^'el, looking reproachfully at Polanetzki.

Evidently Polanetzki cared more about tlie future child
than about his wife, and Zaviiovbki understood it so. As
to Marinya, she knew it long ago, and it made her suffer
tt'iribly, all tlie more because she could not breathe it to
anvlxxly. She was torturing herself, and this undermined
liir health and explained her sadness.

Polanetzki would have been greatly surprised i^" some-
l)0(ly told him that he did not love and esteem his wife.
He loved lier in his way. Being of a quick a)id resolute
nature, he sometimes showed too much anxiety about the
cliild ; he did not conceal it, and never cntartained the
thouglit that Marinya might feel liurt at this anxiety. It
seemed to him that one of her duties was to have children,
and on this account he thought that he should be full of
attention to her. As she was growing less attractive
every day, and as his ajsthetic sense was sometimes hurt
l)v it, he imagined that by concealing his feelings, and by
trying to sh.ow her sympathy, he was as considerate and
mindful of her as an}'- one could be under the same circum-
stances.

But she tlioughfc and felt otlierwise, and at first slie
con hi not bear the polite attentions of lier husband. She
was in a state of mental revolt, regretting her condition,
and being even jealous of its cause, but it did not last
long, and she soon became reconciled, and persuaded her-
self to consider the matter as something usual and natural.
Why should a father not think of his cliild ? AVhy should
she worry herself? She accused herself of being an ego-
tist, repented, and said to herself: "Be quiet, my poor
heart ! Sucli is life, such is the natural order of things,
and such is the will of God."

Now, w^alking witli Z;ivilovski in tlie garden, lier
thoughts turned toward him. She wanted to talk with
hnn about Linetti, as she had learned from Panni Osnov-
ski that the girl had fallen in love with liim.

• — " 1 have something to tell you," said she, " though I
iini not sure whetlier it is right to do so. Panni Osnov-
ski told me — But no ! I must lirst know why you have
iK)l visited them lately.'"

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408

m^:

^ — " I have been sick and in trouble. I could not cto
out. . . .

— " Well, I wanted to know, because I thought that,
possibly, you might be angry with them. Panni Osnov-
ski said that Linetti thought you were vexed at her, and
once she saw tears in Linetti's eyes."

Zavilovski flushed and exchiimed :

" All, my God ' How can I get angry with her ? She
is so harmless."

— " I only repeat what I heard. It is true, Panni
Osnovski is such a babbler that you can never rely on
whp«t she says ; but in this case, it seems to me, she is
truthful. Anyway, Linetti is a nice, charming girl, and
I must confess that when I lieard of her tears, I was
greatly affected. Poor gii-l ! "

— "And I am disturbed, moved to my inmost soul,"
answered Zavilovski.

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance
of Polanetzki, who said to his wife :

— " Well, you are still making matches ! How incor-
rigible women are ! But I must tell you, Marinya, I will
be glad if you will not mix yourself in such matters."

Panni Pclanetzki began to justify herself, but he turned
to Zavilovski and added :

— "I am not concerned at all in this matchmakin<]f ;
but, to tell you the truth, I have not a particle of conti-
dence in those ladies."

But Zavilovski's imagination was aroused, and when lie
went lionie, he was dreaming of Linetti. He was not
yet in love with her, but he indulged himself wiiii
thoughts of her and was carried away by his dieamsof tlio
girl. He resolved to see her the next day, and began to
write a poem with the title " Cobweb."

He was anxious to go as early as possible to Panni
Bronich's, bnt waited for the hour when all were at tlio
tea-table. Panni Osnovski greeted him warmly and
laughed merrily. He looked inquiringly at Linetti, and
liis heart began to beat quicker, wlien he found tliat licr
face briglitened.

"Do you know what I was thinking?" exclaimed
Panni Osnovski with her usual vivacity. " Our Linetti

400

is so fond of men with !)(> tids, that I thought you had
decided not to call again until you had raised a beard."

" No, no, I prefer to see you as you appeared when
we first met," said Castelli.

** Yes, he was hiding himself from us," broke in
Osnovski, '*but I have a scheme to stop that: Linetti,
start to paint his portrait, and he will be obliged to call
every day."

Panni Osnovski joyfully clapped her hands.

— " How clever you are, Yuzia ! " cried she.

The face of Yuzia was radiant. It was unusual for
him to hear sucli compliments from his wife.

" I thouglit of it," confessed Castelli, " but I was
afraid to weary him."

" I am at your service," bowed Zavilovski, " when do
you desire to commence ? "

"The days are longer now, so we can commence at
four, after Kopovski's sitting. I will soon finish liis
portrait."

"Do you know what she said about Kopovski?'*
asked Panni Bronich.

But Castelli did not allow her to finish. Plavitski
carne in and gave another turn to the conversation, lie
had met Panni Osnovski at Marinya's, and, as he openly
confessed, 'Most his head." She flirted with liim unmer-
cifully, and he greatly enjoyed it.

" Sit down here, near me," said she merrily, " and we
will be comfortable."

" As in paradise, as in paradise ! " repeated he, quite
delighted.

Meanwhile Zavilovski said to Linetti :

" I am happy at tlie prospect of being here every
day. But will I not take j'our time ?"

" You will, surely," answered slie, looking straight
at liim, "but you will do it better than any one else.
I was really afraid to annoy you, as you frigliten me."

Now he looked straight at her and gravel}' pronounced :

" Pray, don't be afraid of me."

Linetti cast her eyes down, and both were silent. She
soon broke the silence, wh!S|)ering :

"What was the cause of you* long absence?" lie

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410

was prompted to answer : because I was afraid of you,
but didn't dare to be so bold."

*' I was writing all the time," said he.

" Poems ? "

" Yes, I will bring you one to-morrow — tho " Cob-
web." Do you remember that you once told me you
would like to be accjbweb? I did not forget it, and from
that moment I only saw before me a white filament flying
in tiie air.

*' Yes, it flies, but only when it is carried away by
some outside force, and it cannot fly high, unless — "

*' Unless what ? Finish, please."

" Unless it is fastened upon the wings of an eagle."

And slie rose quickly and went to help Osnovski open
the window. Zavilovski was greatly perplexed, but he
recovered himself when Panni Bronich approached him
and said :

" Two days ago old Zavilovski told me that you were
his relative, but you did not call on him, and he could
not leave his house as he is afflicted witli gout. Why don't
you visit him ? He is such a good and worthy man. Go
and see him, will you ? "

" Well, ril go," answered he ; at this moment he
would have agreed to any proposition.

" How good you are ! You will find your cousin
Helen there. But don't fall in love with her, she is a
nice girl."

" Oh, that would not happen, surely I '* exclaimed he
laughingly.

"People say that she was in love with Ploshovski,
who shot himself, and that she still mourns him in her
heart. . . . When will you call on them? "

" To-morrow or day after."

" You see, they are going to the country, as the sum-
mer is approaching. Where will you go?"

'' I don't know. And you ? "

Linetti returned, and hearing the- question of Zavil-
ovski, interrupted their conversation:

" We have not yet decided."

*'We intended to stay at Sclieveningen," said Panni
Bronich, "but it would be troublesome on account of

% .

411

Linetti. She is always courted, surrounded by young
men," added she, loweiiiii^ her voice.

And she began to tell so many stories of Linetti's suc-
cesses and conquests in different summer resorts, tliat tlie
girl was annoyed and hurriedly left them. But this gave
Panni Bronicli a fresli op[)ortunity to praise the girl's
modesty and to relate without reserve other stories of
Linetti's successes.

Zavilovski was bored to death hv lier and iicr stories ;
but he had no relief until Osnovski called the chattering
lady. He took this occasion to bid them good-night; and
pressing Linetti's hand, lie said tenderly :

— " To-morrow then ! " ^

— " Yes, to-morrow. . . . But don't forget to bring the
" Cobweb ". . . . I am so anxious to read it ! "

— " Surely not. . . . How can I forget it I " replied lie,
nearly overcome with emotion.

He left, together with Plavitski, and as soon as tliey
were in the street, tlie old man tapped him on his slioulder,
and said :

— " Do you know, young man that I will soon be a
grandfather ? "

— " I do."

— ''Yes, a grandfather," added he, smiling joy) ally,
"and nevertheless I tell you, theie is no better woman
than a young and married one."

And he hiughed, looking significantly at Zavilovski, and
putting his lingers to his lips, he smacked tlnem and went
away.

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412

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CHAPTER XXVI.

Zavilovski called every day on Aunt Bronich and often
met Kopovski, wliose portrait was not yet finished. Linetti
said that slie had some trouble in painting the face ; but
with Zavilovski's portrait she made better progress.

— *' In a head like Kopovski's," explained she, " it is
enough to change the least line, to give another light, and
tlie whole is spoiled. But as to Zavilovski's head, it is
only necessary to catch its character."

This explanation was satisfactory to botli men, and
Kopovski even remarked that it was not his fault that the
Lord had created him so. Pamii Bronich told after, that
Linetti had added : " the Lord has created, the Son has
redeemed, but the Holy S[)irit has not penetrated." This
jest was soon repeated all over Warsaw.

But Zavilovski liked this narrow-minded man, the more
as he was no longer considered a rival. His stupidity
wasK amusing, and the ladies liked liira for it, and played
with him as witli a toy.

The spring passed, and the time for the races was at
hand. Zavilovski was invited to accompany the Osnov-
skis. He was sitting in their carriage opposite Linetti,
highly delighted. She seemed to him like a spiing-flower
in her bright dress and with her rosy face. Her attractive
figure stood before him when he was alone in his room.
She had taken possession of his thoughts and heart.

But he was not at ease in the society about her. She
was the center of attraction for many young men, wlio
were using every opportunity to pay her compliments.
When alone with her, he was quite happy, forgetting every
thing, wholly absorbed in his ardent love. At uie same
time liis poetical inspiration was aroused, and lie was
writing and writing. He was no longer ashamed of his

413

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poetry, as he felt that it inado him a hero in the eyes of
his beloved Liiietti.

Panni Bronich decided to stay with Linetti at Osnov-
ski's estate during a part of June and July, and then to go
to Scheveningen. Zavilovski many times asked himself the
([uestion whether they would invite him to accompany
them ; but when tliey did so, he tlianked them and pre-
tended to be very busy. Linetti was silen Jy listening to
his excuses, and when he was leaving, she approached liim
and asked :

— " Why do you refuse to go to Pritulovo ?"

— "Because I am afraid," answered he when he found
that nobody was looking at them.

She laughingly said:

" What is necessary to give you courage ?

— "One word, you have only to say: 'Come!'" said
he with a tremulous voice.

She was hesitating to comply with liis demand in such
an imperative form, but after a while whispered : " Come I "
and fled away confused and excited.

Zavilovski returned home, radiant, filled with joy.

The Osnovskis were to leave the city in ten days, and
meanwliile Zavilovski came regularly every day to sit for
]iis portiait. He would not miss it for the gieatest foi tune.
Panni Bronich was often present, and she continually
praised the girl, telling different improbable stories about
her. He did not believe her, but was glad to hear her
praises of Linetti. On that point he was willing to talk
with her days and nights.

Prompted by Panni Bronich, he called on old Zavilovski,
tlie Croesus with whom lie had no acquaintance. The old
nobleman greeted him familiarly, with one foot resting on
a chair.

— " Excuse me, that I remain sitting," said he, " but
the accursed gout holds me fast. I cannot get rid of it, it
is hereditary ! It seems to me that it will always toi'ment
our family. By the way, do you sometimes feel a pain in
your thumb?"

— " No," answered the young man, surprised at his
question and reception.

" Wait, it will come in due time," consoled the old

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414

man, and calling his daugliter and presenting him to her
as a cousin, he began to talk about relationshij), and then
remarked :

— ^' I confess, I never wrote any poems and did not care
for it, but I was gratified when I saw my name under such
nice poems."

But this visit had an unpleasant and abrupt end. The
conversation turned on tlieir mutual friends and acquaint-
ances, and old Zavilovski gave his ojjinion of them with
rude frankness. When the names of Painii Bronich and
Castelli were mentioned, lie called the first: " cheat," and
the second he characterized with the exclamation : " Vene-
tian imp ! "

At the same moment .young Zavilovski jumped up,
burning with anger. His timidity ^ave way to ex-
asperation, and looking with fiery eyes at the old man, he
said haishly :

— " You have an unpleasant way of characterizing people,
and I therefore will be ])leased to bid vou farewell."

He bowed, took his hat and disap])eared. The old
nobleman, who was accustomed to speak freely of every-
body and to have his way in everything, was stupefied,
and after a long silence said to his daughter :

— "What is the matter with him? Is he crazy?"
Zavilovski did not breathe a word of the occurrence to
Panni Bronich ; he simply stated that he paid a visit to
his rich relative and that neither the father nor the
daughter pleased him. But she learned everything from
the old noblenran, who used to call Castelli in her pres-
ence : " Venetian imp."

— " But you sent a big devil," said he to Panni Bronich,
" it is fortunate that he did not break my head."

Linetti was delighted to learn that a single disrespect-
ful word about her could provoke Zavilovski to such a
degree of anger, and when they were alone, she said :

— '* How strange it is, that I have so little faith in human
sincerity ! It is so hard to believe that anybody, except
my aunt, would defend me."

— " Why? "

— " I really can't tell."

— " And how about me ? " asked he softly.

415

tr?

— " I am sure you would not permit anylmdy to insult
me ; I feel that you are sincerely attached to me, tliough
I don't know why, as I don't deserve it."

— '• You I " cried lie, risinq-, '* you don't deserve it I
But, mind, I will not permit cen you to speak disrespect-
fully of yourself ! "

Linetti smiled and said :

— "Very well, but, 2>lease, sit down, otherwise I cannot
pauit.

He obeyed, but he began to look at her with such an
expression of love and delight, that she was disturbed.

— "What a rebellious model you are!" ciied slie.
" Turn your head a little to the right, and don't look at

» >'

— " I cannot, I cannot ! " sighed he.

— " And I can't paint. Your portrait was commenced
with you in another position . . . Wait ! "

And she came to him, and touched his temples with her
fingers to place his head in the original position ; but he
was so overcome with emotion that he seized her hand,
and eagerly pressed it to his lips.

— "What are you doing?" whispered she.

But he continued to kiss her hand fervently, and she
liastily said :

— " Have a talk with my aunt . . . We are going to-
morrow . . ."

They could say nothing more, for Panni Osnovski and
Pan Kopovski came in. Observing the flushed cheeks of
Linetti, Panni Osnovski looked rapidly at Zavilovski and
asked :

— " Well, how are you getting along ? "

— " And where is aunt?" broke in Linetti.

— '* Went to make calls."

— " How long?"

— " But a few minutes ago . . . Well, how far are you
with the portrait? "

— " Pretty far, ])ut it is enough for to-day."

And she put aside the brushes, and went to wash her
hands.

Zavilovski remained, answering questions as reasonably
as he could under the circumstances ; but he eagerly

1:1.

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416

wanted to run away. He was afraid of the forthcoming
explanation with Panni Bronich, and, as is usually tlio
case with timid people, lie wanted to postpone it until to-
morrow. He desired to be alone and seriously thirk over
tlie matter, as he felt that at this moment his thoughts
were in a chaos and that his futuie was in the balance.
The very thought of it made him shudder and even
tremble. He felt that this was not the time to letracthis
steps, that he must advance through love, dechuation and
proposal to the very portals of the churcli. True, he souglit
this with all his yearning soul, but accustomed to consider
everything called happiness, a mere poetical vision, some-
thing belonging to the woild of thought, dreams and art,
he dared not believe that Castelli would ever become his
wife. He was sitting as it were on live coals, and as soon
as Linetti returned, he bade lier farewell. Slie gave him
her hand, cold from the water, and inquired : " Will you
not wait for aunt ? "

"' No, I must go now. I will come again to-morrow to
take leave of you and Panni Bronich so an revoir ! "

Tills })arting, after all that had occurred, appeared to
Zavilovski, so cold and unnsitural, that he was in despair.
He dared not give the parting another aspect, for Panni
Osnovski scanned them closely.

'' Wait,"— said Osnovski, " J shall bear you comi)any.
I have some business to attend to in the city."

They went out together. But no sooner had they
passed the gates of the villa tlian Osnovski stopped,
placed his hand on Zavilovski's shoulder, and asked :

" You don't mean to say that you quarreled with
Linetti ? "

Zavilovski widely opened his eyes.

— '' I, with Linetti ? "

" Yes. Your leavetaking Avas a frost. I expected you
would kiss her hand."

Zavilovski's eyes became larger. Osnovski laughed and
continued :

'' Well, in that case I may just as well make a
clean breast of it. My wife, a curious woman, looked
at you and guessed what had ha;>pened. Pan Zavilovski,
you may consider me your best fiiend, one who knows

417

wliiit it is to love, who can only tell you one tliinpf, — God
(riiint you such hjippiness as fell to my lot since I was
uniiried to my wife."

And he lapped him in a friendly manner on t!io
shoulder. Zavilovski, though extremely agitated and
confused, could scarcely resist the temptation to embrace
him.

"' Have you really so much work to do ? " asked Osnov-
ski ; " why did you leave the ladies so soon ?"

" To speak frankly, I wished to collect my thoughts.
Besides, I took fright at Panni Bronich."

— ^* You don't know Aunt Bronich. Her head is in a
whirl. Come, escort me a little distance, then you can go
back, without ceremony. On the road your thoughts will
c^nidually collect themselves. In the meantime auntie
will have returned home, and you will convince her in a
speech so eloquent and touching, that she will melt in
tuiu's. But remember, that if your efforts are crowned
with success, you owe it all to my Anette, because it was
she who turned Castelli's head, as if she had been your
own sister. She has such a fiery head, and such a good
gtMierous heart. There may be good women in this world,
hut surely none better than my Anette. At first she
thought that that imbecile Kopovski courted Castelli, and
it angered her. True, she likes him, but allow her to
marry such a fool . . . that would be too much."

Tims conversing with Zavilovski he took his hand, and
after a pause, resumed : " It won't do for us to address
eai'h other \you,' we shall soon be relatives. So I must
tell thee, I don't doubt that Linetti is sincerely fond of
you, because she is an honest girl. But she has been
talked to so much lately about you, and she is so young,
that the fire must be kept up. . . . As to you, spare no
wood. . . . You understand that love must grow up with
her. This can be easily achieved, for hers is an exceptional
nature. Do not think tliat I wish to frighten you or to
caution you. No. A beginning must be made, — there is
no doubt tliat she loves you. Oh, if you only saw how
she fondled your book of poems." A foolish idea struck
me then, and I said that old Zavilovski's object in renew-
ing your acquaintance was to marry you to his daughter,

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418

that his family estate should pass into the hands of
another member of the same family, bearing the same
name. Poor Linetti grew pale like a slieet of paper.
She frightened me, and I hastened to turn it into a joke.
Well, what have you got to say? "

Zavilovski wanted to weep and to laugh, but he meielv
pressed Osnovski's hand to his lip, and after a pause,
said : " I am not only unworthy of her, but *"

" Well, and what is to follow tliat ' but ' ? Perhaps, yon
wished to say that, ' you did not love her as much.' "

" This may be so," replied Zavilovski, raising his eyes
to heaven.

" In such a case, lose no time, my boy, go back at oiue
and compose your little speech for Aunt Bronicli. Do
not sliy at })athetics. She loves it. Good-by, Ignati. 1
will return in an hour, and to-night we shall come to an
understandinor."

They shook hands with true brothei'ly affection, lie-
fore going, Osnovski added: " I repeat: God grant you
may iind in Linetti such a wife as myAnette."

Returning home, Zavilovski tliought that Osnovski was
an angel, his wife a second, Panni Bronich a tliird, and
Linetti hovered over them, spreading her wings like a
cherub, like a deit}\ Now he understood liiat a lieart
could love till it ached. He approached the villa, in-
haling the fragrance of the flowers blooming in abun-
dance, and having a vague idea that the intoxicating odor
Avas a j)art of his happiness. Going there he repeated to
himself : " What people, what a family ! Only anionq'
then such a swan could grow up ! " lie looked at (lie
peaceful skies, and in the stillness of the niglit he saw in
the wee little planets that floated in space a caress and
kindliness. . . . T\wy seemed to gaze at the world, — ca-
ressed him and blessed liim. Za-jlovski did not pray in
words, but everytliing sang within his heart a grateful
hymn. He came to his senses only at the gates of the
villa, and, as if awakening from a long sleep, he espied the
old servant of the Osnovskis, who stood at the gate and
looked at the passers-by.

''Good evening, Stanislav," said Zavilovski, "has Pai ui
Bronich returned? "

ome to an

419

"No. I am waiting for Iter.'

"Are the ladies in the parlor?"

" Yes, and Pan Kopovski is witli them."

" Who will open the door for me ? "

" It is not shut. I have been out only a minute or
so.

Zavilovski went upstairs, but not finding anyone in the
parlor, went into thj^Scudio. It was also deserted; but
from the adjoining room, thiough the portieres that di-
vided the parlor from the stndio came a faint whisper.
Thinking that he might fnid there the two ladies, he
gently raised the portiere, and remained standing, as if
nailed to tlie s})ot. He was benumbed, paralyzed. Cas-
telli was not tliere. Instead, Ko])ovski was on his knees
ht't'ore Panni Osnovski, who, sinking her fingers in his
thick hair, bent his head, now backward, now to heiself,
lis if for a kiss.

'' Anette, if you love me, darling," whispered Kopovski
in a clioking, passionate voice.

'' Yes, sweetheart, I do, but I cannot, and will not,'' re-
})lied Panni Osnovski, slightly repulsing him.

Zavilovski's hand dro[)ped. Unwillingly he released
liis hold of the portiere, lingered a moment or two, his feet
seemed to turn into blocks of wood. At last lie passed
the studio, the tliick carpet of which deadened the sound
of his step, into the main parlor and the ante-chamber,
reached the staircase, and soon found himself breathing
tlie fres'n evening air at the gate of the villa.

" You are going away? " inquired the old servant.

" Yes," replied Zavilovski, and marched away rapidl}'',
as if he ran away fi'om some one. Ir^ a monu'nt he halted,
iind said alond : "Have I gone insane?" And snddenly
it occurred to him that it was true, that he was fast losing
liis senses, that he perceived nothing, that he believed in
nothing. Something seemed to have collapsed within him,
or a wall had come down witli a tremendous crash upon
liini. He was dazed. How's that? (^ould it be possible
that, in a house wliich he thought was a temple of excej)-
tional beings, the usual treachery built its nest, vanity and
iiiire found I'efugt;? Can it all be an infamous conu'dy !
And his "own little swan " breathes that [)oisoned air!

420

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And he recalled Osnovski's words : " God grant that you
luiiy tind in Castelli such a wife like my own." " A thou-
sand thanks ! " thought Zavilovski, and unwillingly
lauglied in a dry, mirthless manner. Neither such vieo
nor such mire was new to him. He saw it, and he knew of
its existence, hut for the first time he discovered it lit
such a settingv and resolved nieclianically, unwillingly,
that Osnovski, who opened liis lieart^ him as an lionest
man and an intimate friend, was a c^own or a fool, because
of liis implicit faith in his wife. Osnovski, who wishtMi
liim to be so happy with Castelli, as he was witli Auetttv
was really comical. One cannot love to such extent as to
see nothing, to believe blindly. Zavilovski's thoughts
passed to Linetti. At the first moment he felt that from
all tluit moral sloth and death in tlie house of Osnovski, a
sliadow fell also upon the young girl. But afterward ho
began to scourge himself for that profanation. He he-
came indignant with himself. He longed to take luu-
away from the society of Osnovski and her demoralizing
influence ; to seize her, and carry her away from the house
wherein her innocent eyes could gaze upon vice, and he-
come infected with the disease. True, a demon wiiispered
into his ear that Osnovski also trusted his Anette as he
his Linetti, that Osnovski was willing to shed his blood
to prove the purity of his wife, but Zavilovski rejected
these insinuations and said: " It is suflficient to look into
lier eyes." He remembered how he pressed her hand to
his lips, and slie said : " Speak to auntie."

Before his eyes appeared again the shocking scene,
with Panni Osnovski and Kopovski as central figures,
how the latter kneeled befoie lier, and he asked hiniselt"
time and again: what should lie do, how should he act
under the circumstances? Warn Osnovski? But this
thought was rejected with indignation. To lure Puniii
Osnovski to a secluded corner, and there, face to face,
read her a moral? But she would show him the door!
To threaten Kopovski and demand his withdrawal from
the house? But this was also inconvenient. Kopovski
might take offense and challenge him to a duel. He re-
solved to bury the secret in his heart, and be silent. He-
sides, it was easy to conclude from the peculiar request

4-21

of Tvopovski and lier leply, lli.it the evil was not carried
too far. He knew but little of women, but he read a good
(leal about them, and knew that theie were women for
whom the form of temptation had more attraction than
the crime itself; that"' is, women, void of moral sense, as
well as of temperament, who have just as much lust for
the forbidden fruit as they have repugnance for the down-
fall, — in short, such women who ar^^ not capable of loving
any one, and deceive their husbands as well as their
lovers. He remembered the words of a Fienchman : '' If
Eve had been a Polish woman, she would have plucked
the apple from the tree, but would never have eaten it."
Such a type seemed to him Panni Osnovski. Suddenly
he recalled the words of Osnovski : that imbecile Kopov-
ski was courting Castelli, that it enraged his wife, and
she endeavored to turn Castelli's head by singing the
})raises of anotlier man. Thus, Panni Osnovski took care
of her own end. He shuddered ; it became clear to him
that if it was true, it signified that Kopovski lioped to
succeed in his suit. And again a black shadow fell upon
th ^ pure white figure of Linetti. He stitlod these doubts
auu fears, and called himself a fool for entertaining such
tlioughts. The best evidence that Linetti could not love
Kopovski was her love for himself. He felt an instant
relief, as if a great stone had fallen from his chest, and in
his heart he began to ask the foigiveness of Linetti.

Passing by the house of Polanetzki, he met Polanetzki
|>r<>menading with Panni Mashko. He held her arm in
his, and they walked ver}'- slowl}^ as if conveising on some
very serious subject. Zaviloski was amazed, and in his
li/i'd mind another suspicion was added to the other.
Polanetzki recognized him in the pale moonlight, and
having no intention to evade him, he stopped Zavilovski.

'' Good-evening," said he. " Home so early, — why ? "

" I have been at Panni lironich's, and am now wander-
ing aimlessly, because the evening is so ihie."

'' Come in with us. I will take Panni Mashko home
find return immediately. You have not seen Marinya for
8onie time."

" Very well, FU go in ! "

And, indeed, he suddenly felt a desire to see Marinya.

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422

He liad experienced so iiuicli that day, that he was fagged
out. He knew that her face, full of repose, acted like a
balm to his nerves.

He rang the bell, and going in the lighted parlor lie
explained to Marinya that lie came at the invitation of
her husband.

"lam very, veiy glad!" replied Panni Polanetzki —
'* my husband went to sec Panni Mashko home, but will
return to tea. I also expect the Bigels, and perhaps even
my father, if he has not gone to the thcuter."

She pointed to a chair at the table, and fixing th.e shade
on the lamp, continued her work, at which Zavilovski
found her. She was making bows fiom pink and bine
ribbons, a little pile of which lay before her on the table.

— *' What are you making ?" asked Zavilovski.

— "Bows for dresses. But tell me, how are you ? Do
you know that the whole of Warsaw is marrying you to
Linetti Castelli ? You were seen with her at the theater,
at the race track, at the promenades, and no one wants to
believe that it is not all settled."

" I have alwaj^s spoken candidly to you, and will there-
fore tell you now, that — it's almost settled."

"Ah, what agreeable news ! God grant you happiness,
which we both wish you with all our liearts."

" And she extended her hand, which he shook warmly,
and then she asked :

" Have you spoken to Linetti ? "

Zavilovski related his conversation with Castelli and
Osnovski, and finally revealed all that was in his over-
flowing heart. How he scrutinized, criticised, fought witli
himself; how he tried to banish that thought from lii^'
head, or rather from his heart, but was conquered after all.
He assured her, that many times he pledged himself to cut
short the acquaintance, but he lacked the grit, for he felt.
that the whole world, the whole object of life — was naught
without Linetti, and he would not know what to do with-
out her.

" Think ye," continued he — " other people have I'elations,
mothers, sisters, brothers, but I, save my unfortnnnli'
father, have no one, and wha*; wonder that all my love i^
centered on her ? "

423

'* So it ought to be."

'' Hut it still appears co me a dream," resumed lie with
fuiliusiasm, *" and I cannot become accustomed to the
thought that she will be my wife. At times I fear that it
'jiinnot be, lliat something will hap[)eu which will ruin
everything."

He became more and more excited. At last he trembled
nervously and covered his eyes with his hands.

'' You see," saul he. '• 1 must cover my eyes, to imagine
everything, such luck, such good fortune ! What does a
man want in life and marriage? Just such hai)piness !
l)Ut it surpasses my strength. I don't hnow. 1 may be
extremely weak, but at times the contemplation of it fairly
takes away my breath."

Panni Polanetzki put her work on the table, and cover-
ing it with her hands, gazed at Zavilovski.

"' Because you are a poet, and are easily carried away by
emotions. You must take things quietly. I liave a little
book left by my mother in which she, being seriously ill,
inscribed all she considered good and enlightening.
Among others, she wrote of marriage something I have
never heard, or read in books : ' You marry not to be happy,
but to fulfil all the duties conferred on you by God ; hap-
piness is supplementary, a gift of God.' You see how
simple this is. Remember it and tell it to Linetti."

" It is indeed very simple. Such thoughts never ap-
])ear to me," said Zavilovski, looking at her exultingly.
Marinya smiled sadly, and taking up her work, repeated :
" But still, you tell it to Linetti."

Listening to her, Zavih)vski looked at lier bent head,
her flashing hands at work, and it seemed to him tliat the
repo:'-e, the peace she spoke of sofrecpiently, hovered about
her, tilled the air, hung over the table, burned in the lamp,
and, at last, passed into himself. Soon Polanetzki re-
turned, after him came the Bigels, who were followed by
a man carrying Bigel's 'cello. At tea, Polanetzki spoke
of Mashko. His work in contesting and annulling the will
was coming to an end, though new difficulties arose every
(lay. Tlie lawyer, engag(Ml by the charitable institutions —
that young Seliodka (lierring) which Mashko wished to
[)epper and devour — proved a hard fish to catch. Pola-

424

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netzki heard that he was a cold and obstinate man, bun
very able and energetic.

*' What is most amusing," said Polanetzki, "is the fact
that Masbko considers himself a patrician who leads his
followers against a plebeian, and declares that he's merely
testing whose blood is the better. What a pity thut
Bukatzki is dead ! This would be a source of genuine
delight to him."

" And Mashko is still in St. Petersburg ? " asked
Bigel.

" He will return to-day. That is why his wife could
not remain here for the rest of the evening. I was pre-
judiced against her," added he after a pause, " but now I
am convinced that she is not at all bad, but a poor wretched
woman."

— " Why is she poor ? Her husband has not lost his case

yet."

" Yes, but he's never home. Panni Mashko's mother is
in Vienna, in an eye infirmary, and, I believe, will soon lose
lier sight entirely ; she is home all day alone, like a daughter
of tlie desert, and I pity her . . ."

"Slie has become much more sympathetic since her mar-
riage," observed Panni Polanetzki.

" Yes," confirmed her husband, " and she has lost none
of her charms at that. Before, her red eyes made her look
a fright, but now that redness has disappeared and she looks
chaste and virnin-like."

" It's doubtful whether Mashko is contented or can
appreciate that cliasteness," said Bigel.

Panni Polanetzki was eager to tell of the news of
Zavilovski's decision, but as he was not formally betrotlied
yet, slie was not certain that it would be proper to
divulge the secret given her in confidence. But after tea,
wlien Panni Bigel asked Zavilovski iiow his affairs were
getting on, and he replied tliat the end was near,
Marinya could not restrain herself any longei' and wedged
in the announcement that he was to be congiatulated. They
all sliook his liand with such manifestations of sincere joy,
that he was deeply touched. From sheer delight Bigfl
kissed his wife, and Polanetzki ordered champagne with
which to drink the health of the newly betrothed. Panni

425

Bigel poked fun at Zavilovski, describing what housekeep-
ing of a poet and a painter would look like. Zavilovski
laughed, but was content that his dreams had assumed the
appearance of reality.

A little later, drinking his health, Polanetzki said to
Zavilovski : '' Well, old boy, God grant you long life and
happiness, and I will give you one bit of advice : What-
ever poetry you have in your romantic soul, put it into
your occupation, work diligently, be in life a realist,
and remember that married life is not a roma — "

He did not finish, because his wife covered his mouth
with her hand, and laughingly said ;

" Silence, you old bear ! Please, don't listen toliim, and
create no new theories, but only love, love, love ! " added
she, addressing Zavilovski.

" In such case, buy yourself a harp," said Polanetzki,
teasing her.

At the mention of a harp, Bigel seized his 'cello and
declared that they must wind up the evening with music.
Marinya sat down at the piano, and they began to play
Handel's serenade. Zavilovski felt as though his soul
had left his body, filled with these tender notes and sounds,
and made its flight through the night to lull to sleep iiis
Linetti.

He reached home late that night, encouraged and in-
vigorated by the society of these honest people.

426

CHAPTER XXVII.

Martnya enjoyed the peace and tranquillity ** God
has sent to her." This partook to a great extent of that
voice from " beyond tlie grave " that from the pages of ;i
little yellow book said to her time and again : " We marry
not to be happy, but to live up to the duties God
has placed upon us." She often glanced at this little
book and read its wise sayings, but the real meaning of
these words she understood when she returned with her
husband from Italy. At last she was not only reconciled to
her fate, but she would not entertain the thought that slie
was unhappy. She often pondered with whom she could
compare her husband, but failed to find his equal. Bigel
was an honest man, but lie swam in shallow waters.
Osnovski, with all his natural kindness, lacked activity
and the love for work. Mashko was from every point of
view inferior to her husband. Zavilovski was more of a
child-genius, than a man. In short, lier Stacli always
came out victorious with colors flying, and the result
that she had more faith in him, loved him more intensely
every day. Limiting her own " ego," and sacrificing on
his altar her dreams and her egoism, slie felt that she
became refined, more perfect, that she drew nearer to her
Lord, that at last, in this consisted her whole world of
happiness.

She often remained alone, reasoning with herself, as a
simple honest woman: " people must strive to be good."
It seemed natural to her that :n her husband's eyes she
had become less attractive. Often standing before the
mirror and gazing wistfully at herself, she said : ** The eyes
have not changed, but the figure . . . the face — and were
I Stach 1 should run away from home ! "

She was greatly relieved and encouraged by the assur-
ance of Panni Bigel, wlio insisted, that ''after" she

427

would become prettier, and ''just like a little girl." At
times she rejoiced at the thought ' .it nature arranged
things so kindly, that though a woman at first is deprived
of her charms and suffers a little she '' afterwards " not
only regains her former beauty, but she receives as a
reward a little one that cements lier husband's love and
affection. At such moments she was perfectly happy and
gay, aiul said to Panni Bigel : " Do you know what I
tliink? It occurs to me that one can always be hap))y,
provided lie has the fear of God in his heai't."

" What is there in common between God and one's hap-
piness?" asked Panni Bigel, infected with her husband's
philosophy.

" That," replied Marinya, " which prompts you to be con-
tent with what He gives you, not to anger Him with
complaints about what He did not give us, though we
wanted it so badly. But chiefly to be patient," added
she, "and not annoy Him."

They both laughed.

Often in his anxiet}^ Polanetzki surrounded liis wife
with more proofs of his tenderness, which gave one the
idea that he thought more of the welfare of his future
child, than of his wife. But Marinya took no offense at
that. Then, abandoning every day a particle of her egoism,
she acquired more and more a peace that was reflected in
her wonderful eyes. Now her mind was absorbed in the
hope of giving birth to a daughter. She was afraid it
would be a son, and in view of this once asked her hus-
band :

" Will you not dislike me if it is a boy ? "

" No," replied Polanetzki, " but I prefer a girl."

" Panni Bigel told me that all men mostly prefer to
liave boys."

" Well, I am not of that sort. I am a man who prefers
little girls."

At times she was filled with alarm. Slie was afraid to
die. And she prayed to God that He in His mercy would
spare her young life, not only because she feared death,
init she did not want to leave this world, even for the
Kingdom of Heaven. Here she had the warm love of her
Stach, who would be so sorely grieved to lose her. But

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she had no grounds for ahinn, ior everything went well
with her. Thanks to this reassuring feeling, Polanetzki
was perfectly satisfied wi?.h the condition of liis Avife. If
lie was alarmed and uneasy, lie luid other reasons for it,
which, fortunately, Marinya did not know, and which he
himself did not dare to divulge. For some time his life
accounts, in which he took such j^ride, showed a deficit.
Only recently he considered his theories of life veiy sound,
like a house built of stout timber on a stone foundation.
He thought he was an expert builder, that his edifice wjis
finished, and he could move in and live therein at peace
with the rest of the world. But he forgot that the liuman
soul was like a bird, that rose to a certain height, but
could not rest suspended in the air, and was compelled to
extend her wings to retain her balance, lest she be drawn
downward. And the more poweiful tlie temptation, the
more he was angry at himself that he 3'ielded to it. The
walls of his house began to give way and sink. He did
not yield to it willingly ; the very thought that he con-
templated it, angered him, for it led him to doubt the integ-
rity of his own character. From time to time he cast a
searching glance at Panni Osnovski and repeated in liis
soul the opinion of Confucius about women : '* The aver-
age woman's brain is as big as that of a chicken, the
exceptional woman has the biain of two chickens." At
the sight of Panni Mashko, however, it occurred to him
that this Chinese truth might for certain women serve as a
flagrant flattery. But if Panni Mashko could be called
absolutely stupid, this definition at least would constitute
a feature of her individuality. A paltry few little form-
ulas made her a respectable nonentity, just as three or
four hundred words comprised the whole vocabulary of
the inhabitants of New Guinea, and satisfied all their needs
and conceptions. These formulas were sufficient for the
reasoning capacity of Pjinni Mashko, for her life and
friendly relations in society. She was, moreover, infinitely
passive, with all her earnestness of an automaton, created
by her absolute faith in the presumption that by clinging
to certain conventional forms a person will always be in
place in everything. She was the same when a girl, when
he ridiculed her and called her " a heartless doll," when

429

there lay at her door the bhinie for the deatli of his friend,
the physician, \vh(;n he detested her. And yet, this
ahnost dead-like face, that passiveness, indifference, that
uneai tidy repose, that coldness of demeanor, that redness
of her eyes, the slender outlines of her j^irlish li^^ure —
everything had a certain charm of its own, — attracted
him. Then it happened that he who would not be a stro[)
for liie sharp razor-like blade of Panni Osnovski's tongue,
who was a liundred times prettier than Panni Mashko, lie
who resisted tlie temptation of her Roman fantasies, he
wlio considered himself a man of principles, of a strong
character, shai'[ er, keener than the rest — suddenly dis-
covered that the building he took so much pains to erect
was leady to crumble down at tlie first gentle kick of
Paniu Masld^o's little foot, and fall on his head with a
crushing force. Of course, he could not cease to love his
wife — he was so deeply attached to her, but he felt ca-
pable of betraying her, himself, his princij)les, liis moral
conce[)tions, and everything else that guided a moral man
on tiie straight and narrow path. He saw in himself not
only a human beast, but a very weak little beast. He
grew alarmed, indignant at this weakness, but lie could
not overcome it. He should have avoided Panni Mashko,
and yet he invented new excuses to see her oftener. He
could not gaze at her without being consumed by a mad
desire to embrace her. He was tortured by a morbid, sickly
curiosity as to how she v.ould act should he confess to
her his infatuation, lay bare to her the secret passion
of his heart, that he unwillingly admired her, anticii)ating
that even such a sudden confession would not disturb
her cold serenity, nor diminish her passiveness. He al-
most despised himself, yet longed the more to possess her.
He unearthed in himself whole mountains of depravitv
that he acquired during his long stay abroad. He coukl
not understand that there existed such natural regula-
tions or laws, owing to which the soul of a man despises
such a woman, but the man-beast is enchanted by "ler
glance, her smile. As to Panni Masliko, her womanly
instinct took the place of foresig^lt and penetration. She
was no longer so artless as not to understand the mean-
ing of his glances gliding over her figure, or what was

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betrayed in those fiery eyes of liis, when, during his con-
versation, they almost dtvoured lier. She saw no danger
in being tluis singled out and admired, like the (jnail,
liiding its head in the snow, when over it in tlieair cirele.s
the hawk. The mantle of res[)eelability and good form
served as snow to Panni Mashko, and Polanetzki was eon-
scious of it. He knew from experience that women al)()\c
all take care of the outer forms of moial condnct, oftrii
bordering on eccenti'icity. lie remend)ered their indigim-
tion when he related some piqnant anecdote in Polisli,
and their contented smiles when the same was repealed in
French. Always and everywhere, if honesty and pnriiy
do not spring from the sonl and inborn principles, tin-
final downfall is only a question of time, for it depends
solely on f:,ccident, on surroundings, on peculiar concep-
tions of propriety. The passion of Polanetzki, however,
was curbed to a great extent by his affection for Marinya
combined with his respect and solicitude for her present
condition, by his hope of soon becoming a father, by tlie
remembrance of the short time that had elapsed since their
wedding, by natural honesty and religious feeling. All
this was a barrier, that kept the man-beast at hy. llui
not always was his conduct the same. Once he almost
betrayed himself. When he though' that Mashko was n-
turning to Warsaw and he met his wife hurrying home to
meet him, he suddenly became so envious, that he, with a
suppressed but still apparent anger said :

'*I understand your haste. Ulysses is returning, and
that is why Penelope must be at home, but, "

"But what! " asked Panni Mashko.

He had a desii-e to curse her, but, not thinking, lie
replied: "but to-night I would like very much to retain
you a little longer."

" It's not convenient," said she curtly, through lui
teeth, in her thin voice.

In this " not convenient " her wdiole soul was laid bare !
He returned home, cursing her and liimself, and found in
the light and cozy room Zavilovski and Marinya, who was
Trying to persuade the young poet that in marriage one
uet-d not seek visionary hap{)ine^s, but duties to fullill.
prtiicribed by God himself ws the principles of married litV.

431

CHAPTER XXVIII.

I,"

— "What's Paiini Osnovski to me and what do I care
about her conduct?" grumbled Zavilovski, the following
day, on his way to Panni 'ironich. " I am not going to
marry her, but my sweetheart ! And why in the name of
common-sense was I so alarmed, why did I torment my-
self?"

His next thought was, " what will Panni Bronicli say ? "
In spite of Osnov Ki's assurances and his own hope that
the conversation wouhl simply be a matter of form, which
he must observe, in spite of his faith in Linetti and in the
kindness of her '* sweet'* auntie, liis "generous lieart"
trembled with fear. He found both ladies together, and
encouraged by the events of yesterday, kissed the young

p-irl's hand. She blushed and stammered out: "I am

^ . in

going away ! '^

" Stay here, Linetti ! " remonstrated the old lady.

— " No, I will go 1 am afraid of him, and of you,

auntie."

She pressed her head to her aunt's shoulder and fawning
and fondling like a playful kitten, she added: '^ don't you,
aunt, do him any harm — pray, don't ! "

And glancing again at Zavilovski she went out. Zavi-
lovski was agitated and pale. Panni Bronich's eyes were
ir.oist with tears. Seeing that it was much easier for
Zavilovski to burst into tears than to utter a word, she
began :

" I know the object of your coming to me. . . . T have
long noticed that there is something going on between
you, my dear children. . . ."

Zavilovski seized both her hands and l^gan to kiss
them. She continued :

" Oh, I have experienced enough in my life, and I can

432

-Hi

n-i,

; .1

fe||^

therefore feel with others. I will say even more : this
is my specialty. Women live in the heart, and that is
why they can see through it. I know that your affection
for Linetti is sincere and profound. I am satisfied that
if she loved you not, or if 1 should step in between you,
you would not survive the blow."

And " auntie " looked at him scrutinizingly.

"Oh, I don't know what would become of me!" ex-
claimed Zavilovski.

" Now, — you see. I guessed as much. Oh, dear me.
I will not be your evil genius, and will not stand in the
way of your happiness. What better man could I find for
my Linetti? Where is that ' better man,' wlio is worthy
of her, who possesses all she loves and respects ? I can-
not see her married to a Kopovski, and will not permit it.
Not for all th<^ treasures of the world ! "

Notwithstanding his agitation, Zavilovski was struck
by the surprising energy of the old lady : listening to
lier rejection of Kopovski it seemed to him that he pleaded
the cause of the former and not his own. In the mean-
time "auntie" who admired her own flowers of speech,
harped on tlie same chord :

" No, not another word about Kopovski. You alone
will be capable of *rnaking Linetti happy and give lier
what her dear innocent heart desires. I knew yesterday,
that you would speak to me to-daj'-, . . . and I could not
shut my eyes the whole night long. And no wonder !
The fate and fortune of my Linetti are at stake, and there-
fore I hesitated, I dreaded to day's conversation, because
I foresaw tliat I could not hold my ground against you,
that yon would carry me away by your noble feelings and
eloquent pleading, just as you enchanted Linetti yester-
day."

Zavilovski, who had scarcely uttered a word yesterday
or to-day, was at a loss to recognize the power of his own
eloquence, nor the time lie actually gave an evidence of
the same ; but the old lady gave liim no time to ponder, but
continued.

" And do you know what I've done ! Ali-ha ! you see !
The very same thing T luive always done in tlie most seri-
ous moments of mv life. After a brief talk with Linetti

ii w

last night, I went early this morning to my luishamrs
grave in the cemetery. He was buriid here in Warsaw.
1 don't remember wiiether I told you that lio was the last

of tlie Ruri . . Oh, yes I did. Oh, if you only knew

what noble inspirations I carry away from the cemetery,
and what a delightful asylum it is for me I Oh, my dea'-
poor Imsband ! You, as a man of deep emotions, true and
sensitive, will surely understand me, how I prayed at hia
grave, how my whole soul was consumed by one question :
''Shall I entrust Linetti to you or not?" She squeezed
his hand and through tears added : '"• Do you know what
my Tlieodor replied to me? 'Give her to him, make
tliem happy ! ' and I gladly give her to you with my
blessing."

A flood of tears interrupted her further spec^'h-making.
Zavilovski was on his knees. Linetti who at tn-it moment
suddenly returned to the room, as if by a pre-arranged
signal, kneeled beside him, and Panni Bronich spread
her liands over their heads, and almost crying, pronounced :

" She is yours ! She is yours ! She is given to you
by myself and Theodor ! "

The young people rose to their feet. Auntie covered
her eyes with her handkerchief and stood as if benum])ed.
Then sIjc gradually removed the mask, glanced at the be-
trothed couple and burst out laughing:

" Oh, dear me ! oh, I know what you rogues now want!
You want to be left alone ! Well, you shall liave 3'our
way ! You want to speak to each other ! " And she went
out.

Zavilovski took the hands of Linetti and looked at her
with rapture. Then they sat down. Linetti's hands still
remained in his, ])er head was on his dioulder. It was a
song without words. Zavilovski l)ent his head over her
face. Linetti closed her eyes. lie res[)(?cted and loved
lier. He slightly pressed his lij)s to her blonde tresses.
From this touch his head felt giddy as in a whiil, every-
thing turned topsy-turvy and vanished from view. He
forgot where he was, what he was doing, he only heaid
the beating of his own hear<, tlie scent of tlie girl's silky
curls, and it seemed that this com[)i-ised the whoh; world.
Tliis, liowever, was a dream of only a moment. The
28

vh -

; ¥'

434

awakening was near. Auntie slowly opened tlie door, as If
bent on eavesdropping. At the same time tiie voices of
the Osnovskis were heard, and in a twinkle, Linetti was
seized and held fast in tlie clutches of her " sweet "
auntie, then passed into the more gentle embraces of Panni
Osnovski.

" Oh, what a joy in our house ! " shouted Osnovski,
tightly squeezing Zavilovski's hand, " we have all learned
to love you . . . Can you imagine, Anette," he added,
turning to his wife, " what I yesterday wished foi- Ignati ?
That he may be as ha[)py with Linetti as we are, my
darling." Osnovski passionately kissed his wife's hand.

Though unconscious of what was going on around him.
Zavilovski collected his wits and looked up, pnzzled, at
Panni Osnovski. She withdrew her hand, and said
meirily :

'* No, Yuzia, they will be much happier, because Linetti
is not so thoughtless, not so volatile a woman as your wife,
and Pan Zavilovski will never kiss her hands in the pres-
ence of otliers. Let go, Yuzia ! "

" First let him love as I love you, my treasui-e," was
the beaming husband's reply.

Zavilovski did not appear at his desk that day, but re-
mained with Panni Bronich. After breakfast, Zavilovski,
liis betrothed, and her aunt, who was eager to parade witli
the engaged couple before the world, Avent driving tlirougli
the park. It was neither a successful nor a j)leasant trip,
owing to the sudden rain that drove away the promenadeis.
On their return home Osnovski divulged tlie details of a
new plan.

'* Piitulovo will not run away from us," explained he Ul
old Panni Rronich, " it is like being in a village, and as we
have sclent the whole of June here, we might just as well
s[)end two or three days more. It would be a good idea
to give an engagement party to a few invited guests. I
will undertake the arj'anijements. Do von like the idea,
auntie? I see tliat our lovei-s have nolhin<]^ against it.
lofuati will certainly be delighted to see his dearest
friends on his engagement niglit, as for instance, the
Polanetzkis, the l^igels - tliougli tlie latter aie not on
our calling list, but this matters little. To-morrow we

435

will pay them a visit, and matters will arrange themselves
splendidly. Are you in favor of it, aunt, and you,
Igiati?"

I5;^iiati was, as the saying goes, in the seventh heaven.
As to '' auntie " she hesitated, probably because slie did
not know the late Theodor's opinion on the subject. He
would have to be inteirogatetl, but she remembered that
from his last resting-[)lace he said : *' Give heraway I " His
consent could not consistently be doubted. After dinner
arrived Ko[)ovski the daily visitor. He did not betray
great joy at the anouncement of the betrothal. On the
contrary, he stood a few moments as if petrified, and finally
muttered : "'• I — I never expected that Panna Linetti would
marry Zavilovski."

Osnovski struck Zavilovski with his elbow, winked his
right eye, and making a roguish grimace, whispered:

'* Did you notice ? I told you yesterday that he is over
ears in love with Linetti."

Zavih)vski departed hite that night from Osnovski's
villa. On his return home, instead of making jingling
rhymes, he wrote letters and balanced accounts, — a task
he shonld have performed during the day, — though ho
felt like a liiirp, the strings of which sounded and played
of their own accord.

This new evidence of the man's [)robity touched every-
body. Bigel, when he visited the Osnovskis, after the
latter's formal call, remarked to Painii l^ronich :

'* You have certainly long appreciated the creative talent
of Zavilovski, but you scarcely know what a noble man he
is. I say it because men like him are very rare. The other
da}', when he spent the day in your liouse, he came late
to the ofTuie, re(iuested the watchman to admit liim, took
honu» with him books and letters, and durinof the niyht
completed the work he should have performed in the day-
time. It is agreeable to tliink, that you have dealings with
a man who is so perfet^tly ivliabic and ti'ustworthy."

Painii Hronich r«4)lied dryly to this lavish j)raise:

'' I ho[)e that in the future Pan Zavilovski will get
a po.-,ition moie belitting liis abilities."'

The general impi'ession was, on either side, not of tlie
best. True, tlie Bigels took u fancy to Liuetti, but,

436

' pt ■!<'■•

iii

ill

departing from the Osnovskis, Bigel whispered to his wife :
'^ wliiit luxury ! How well these people live ! '' What liu
meant was that the air of this villa was that of an inces-
sant holiday, or a continuous festival. After their de-
parture, Panni Bronich said to her niece: '• Yes, yes. . . .
They seem to be nice respectable people. . . . excellent
peo{)le. ... I am sure of it . . . Yes, yes."

She did not, however, finish her thought, which was
unnecessary.

The young girl evidently understood her, for she an-
swered.

" Yes, but they are not liis relations."

In a few days word came from his relatives. Zavilov-
ski, who in spite of Panni Bronich's persuasions, had not
<i})ologized to old Zaviloyski, received from the latter a
letter containing the following :

" Pan Cat ! You scratched me most unreasonably ! I had
no intention, wliatsoever, of insulting you. And that I
always say what I mean, ought to be forgiven me, because
— I am an old man. You no doubt have already been in-
formed that I call your bride, a Venetian little devil. But
whoever suspected that you were in love or intended to
marry her ! I only heard of it yesterday, and now I under-
stand wliy you have shown your claws. I personally pre-
fer bold men to o})stinate men, but cannot, owing to my
devilish gout, come to you myself and congratulate you.
You. must therefore come youiself to the old man, who
wishes you more than you su})})ose."

Ignati went to see him that same day. He was re-
ceived very cordially, and though tlie old man grumbled
and grunted, as usual, yet he was so sincere, that Ignati
not only i)egan to like him, but to recognize in him a
genuine rehitive.

" May God and the Holy Virgin bless you ! " said tlie
old man. '' I know you very little, my boy, but I've
heard so much about you, that I wish the same good
report were made of all Zavilovskis."

And he sliook Ignati's hand. Then lie turned to his
daugliter and added: '"Ah. A genial beast, isirt he?
Yes? . . . Well, and liow's Theodor? He did not queer
you! — eh?" inquired the old man on parting.

43T

Ignati, the poet, was highly gifted with a fine sense of
humor, and, naturally, Theodor, that very prominent
corpse, appeared to him extremely comical. lie laughed
merrily and replied :

" No, on the contrary. Theodor was with me through
thick and thin."

The old man shook his head:

" Yes, he is a devilishly particular, accurate man, is
Theodor. You must look sharp and be wide-awake with
him, my hid, for he's an old dog ! "

Panni Bronlch had the greatest respect for tlie wealth
and social position of old Zavilovski. This, in a degree, ex-
})lained her call on the old man tlie following day, and her
almost hysterical gratitude for his cordial leception of
Ignati. But the old nobleman suddenly became angry,
and shouted :

" Do you presume I am a dreamer, a make-believe
man ? You have often heard me declare that jwor rela-
tives are a scourge, but do you think I lay the blame at
their door? No ! You don't know me yet ! Every petty
nobleman, as soon as he loses or squanders his fortune, in
most cases becomes an idler, a scamp. Such are our
cliaracters, or, rather, our lack of it. But this Ignati is
a different man, entirely : everybody has a good word for
him, and, though he's a poor devil, I like him, I do,
indeed ! "

"" I, too, love him deai-ly ... I hope you will come to
the engagement party?"

" O^est dSciilS. I will be there, if I have to be brought
on a stretcher."

Panni Bronich returned liome, beaming.

In the evening when Zavilovski came, she said to
him :

"■ Do not wonder that I put my nose into everything. I
am your mother ... I am awfully interested in your
selection of a ring for JJnetti. I hope it will be a pretty
one? Tliere will be so many guests at the engagement,
liesides, you have no couccptiou, what a dear little girl
tins is . . . She is tesdictic even in trifles. She is gifted
witli a uni(|ue taste. Wliat a taste, oh, oh I "

'' My desire was," replied Zavilovski, *' to get a ring

438

}■}■'■

-ft; t

.,■,<■'

-r-

■:*

iv!

with three gems, tlie colors of the stones to signify failli,
hope and love, because she is my faith, my liope and my
love."

" A brilliant idea I Have you spoken about it to Tiinetti ?
Do you know what? It would be just lovely to have a
pearl set in the centre, to signify that she is a pearl.
Symbols are in fashion now. I believe I told you that I*;iii
Svirski, when she was under his instruction, called hii a
pearl? Yes, I did! You don't know Svirski? lie is also
— Osnovski told me that he is due here to-day or to-monow .
— And so, sappliire, ruby and in the centre a pearl. Oli,
yes, Svirski, is also, — Will you be present at the funeral ? "

— " At whose funeral ? "

— '* Bukatzki's. Y^uzia said that Svirski brought his
corpse."

— " I have never known nor seen Bukatzki in my life."

"So much the better. Linetti prefers that you should
not know him. God grant forgiveness to his sinful soul —
lie never sympathized with me, and Linetti could not bear
him . . . But the little girl will be delighted to receive
that ring, and if she is, so am I."

And the '^ little girl" was not only delighted with the
ring,' but with life in general. The rclle of a betrothed
woman had for her a certain irresistible charm. Sitting,
hand-in-hand, in tlie twiliglit, or in the beautiful evenings,
in the pale shimmer of the moon, leaning her little head on
Zavilovski, like a dove, they gazed for hours at the trem-
bling leaves, at the myriads of stars. In that half-con-
sciousness, half dream, they lost the sensation of actual
existence, and were conscious only of liappiness.

Zavilovski realized that in such monients the lieart
melts in a pantheism of love and throbs with the same jov
that gives life to everything that can love, which joins
the hearts of mankind and constitutes a bliss so inliniti'
that if it were to last Ioniser, it could annihilate llie
human mind. I^owever, being an idealist, he admittt,'il
that when death linally comes and cleanses the human
spirit of outside, trivial matter, such minutes become an
eternity. Those were as the skies, in which there was
nothing mysterious, but everything was combined in one
complete hanuouy.

;••,.*

439

Linetti, thousrh she could not soar as hio-h as his
thoughts, nevertheless ^'elt as in a whirl, a dizziness, she
was intoxicated and happy.

A woman, tliough not able to love like a man, loves to
l)(; loved, in consequence of which she passes the threshold
of betrotlial and feels gratefnl to tlie lover who opens be-
fore her a new horizon of life.

Linetti v/as led to believe that she loved him, until at
last she was firmlv convinced of it.

Once Zavilovski asked her whether she was sure of her
lieart.

— '' Oh, yes," said she, extending to him both her hands,
" now I know whom I love ! "

And he pressed those hands to his lips with reverence,
at the same time he saw cause for alarm in her words and
inquired :

" Why only now ? Has there been a moment when
you feared you could not love me ? "

Castelli looked up at him with her blue ej'es, meditated
a second, tlien smilino-, said :

" No, but I am such a coward, and therefore trembled.
I understand that to love you is different from loving any
one else."

She laughed and added :

"" With Kopovski it would have been simply comme
honjour^ but with you ! . . . Perhaps I cannot express
myself very well, but it always seemed to me that it was
like ascending some steej) mountain or tower, and when
vou reach the verv summit, vou have a view of the whole
world, but until you have reached that height you must
walk aiul climb, climb and walk, but T am so lazy."

Zavilovski stood erect, and with all the dignity he
could assume, he uttered :

''Well, when ;ny dear lazy little girl gets tired climl>
iiiL^-, I will take her in my arms and carry her to tlie loftiest

ll('\n^ht."

— " And I will press myself so closely to you, that the
Inii'den will not be so heavy," replied Linetti, shrugging
liiT shoulders and imitating a child.

Zavilovski kneeled at her feet and kissed the end of
her dress.

I'i

,■?■'■'

CHAPTER XXIX.

U-v

.■<•■':

\ ■

"1 '3

SviRSKI arrived with the body of Bukatzki, and on the
following day called upon the Polanetzkis. He found
only Marinya ; her husband had made a short trip into
the country to inspect a dwelling billed for sale. Svirski
found her greatly changed, tind could scarcely recognize
her. But as he had learned to love her in Home, her ap-
pearance touched him. However, after a few minutes,
conversation, she appeared to him so beautiful in her halo
of future maternity, that, comparing her mentally witli
many " primitives " of various Italian schools of art, he was
loud in his enthusiastic admiration of her. He laughed
at her eccentricities, but he cheered her broken spirits,
and she was genuinely glad at his arrival, not only because
she sympathized with his vigorous and healthy natuie,
but she felt certain he would give expression to the same
admiration in the presence of her husband, and that she
would gain in the eyes of the latter. She detained him
for quite a time, but Polanetzki returned late in the even-
ing. Zavilovski came in the meantime, wishing to ponr
out into some sympathetic ear his overflowing heart. He
was a frequent guest at the Polanetzki mansion. Svirski
and Zavilovski, after a first formal introduction, measuiod
each other with cautious glances, like men who, above all,
abhor pretensions, but nevertheless rapidly become inti-
mate, noticing that they each were plain, true-hearted
men. But Marinya gently broke the ice, and introduced
Zavilovski as the betrothed of Castelli — an old acquaint-
ance of Svirski.

"Ah!" exclaimed Svirski. "I knew lier very well!
She was my pupil."

And lie warmly shook Zavilovski's hand, adding:
♦' Your bride has Titian hair. She's a little too tall, hut

r .-

441

so are you. You can't find another pose of head like
hers. You must have noticed that there is something
swan-like in her movements. I called her ' the swan.' "

Zavilovski smiled so naively, so gaily, like a man who
listened to the praise of an object he loved best. He said,
with a shade-^of pride: "La Perla? Do you remem-
ber?"

Svirski looked up at him with surprise.

"In Madrid there is a painting by Raphael," replied
he. " It is among the treasures in the Museum del
Prado. Where did you hear that name, ' La Perla ' ? "

" I think I heard it from Panni Bronich," responded
Zavilovski, confusedly.

** Yes, it may be. There was a copy of that painting
in my studio, — my own work, in fact."

Zavilovski, with the thought firmly })lanted in his mind
that one ought to be cautious in repeating the w^ords of
Panni Bronich, began to take leave of his hostess. He
wished to spend the evening with his fiancde. Svirski
left soon after. He left with Marinya the address of his
studio in Warsaw, and requested that Polanetzki should
call on him soon for consultation in regard to the arrange-
ments for the funeral.

Early the following morning Polanetzki went in search
of the artist's studio. It resembled a glass pavilion,
which, like a swallow's nest, clung to the roof of one of
these huge, many-storied buildings. Access to it was
gained through winding stairs, as to a belfry. The artist
apparently enjoyed here full freedom, for the doors were
wide open, and as Polanetzki slowly climbed up the
stairs, he heard the dull clang of iron, and a bass voice
that sang :

The air is warm with the breath of spring,

And the i-rees are all in full bloom ;
But I constantly sinj? of one tiling.

Knowing no grief, nor sadness or gloom.
I sing that I may shed tears nevermore :
That I cease thee forever to love and adore.

" Good ! " reflected Polanetzki, halting to gain his
breath. " A splendid bass ! But whence that abominable
noise ? "

442

■■'it

'; -' )

Climbing up a little higlier, and reaching a small ante-
room, he perceived tlie cause of the noise. Svirski, in ;i
sweater that outlined finely his Herculean chest and his
strong arms, was wielding a pair of iron weights.

" Oh ! How are you ! " exclaimed Svirski noticing his
visitor and dropping his weights. — " Pardon my attire ;
as you see, I was exercising a little. I called on you yes-
terday, luit found you not in. I've bi'ought our poor
Bukatzki with me? Have you prepared the little palace
for him?"

"The grave has been dug these last two weeks," replied
Polanetzki, shaking hands with the artist. "There is
even a cross there, if I am not mistaken. ... I heartily
welcome you back to Warsaw. . . . My wife told me
that the body is at Povanzki ? "

*' Yes, it is in tlie church vaults. To-morrow we'll bury
it."

" Very well. I will to-day notify the guests and our
friends. By the way, how is our Professor Vaskovski
getting along ? "

" He wished to write to you, but the heat drove him
from Rome, and do you know whither he went? To the
youngest of the Aryans. He told me that the journey
would last two months. He wants to convince himself
liow much the}'' are prepared to accept his historical mis-
sion. He went to Ancona and Fiume, and thence farther

on.

" Poor man ! I am afraid he will meet with new disap-
pointments there."

" Perhaps ! People laugh at his ideas. To tell the
truth I know not how much adaptibility for incepticm of
his idea the youngest of the Aryans possesses, but the idea
itself is so unusually Christiau, so truthful, that one must
be a Vaskovski to come to father it. You will allow me
to dress, I hope. The weather is so warm here, like in
Italy, that it's best to do one's gymnastic feats iu a light
blouse."

" But it's best not to do it at all during such scorching
heat."

Polanetzki gazed with admiration on his athletic form.
" However," added he, " you could pose for money."

443

"Why? oh, those muscles of mine! Look cat these
hands, they are my vanity. Hnkatzki said tliat I painted
like an idiot, but no one will dare to tell me, that I can-
not lift two liundred, three hundred pounds with one hand,
or fail once out of ten straii^ht shots witli tlie revolver."

— " And sucli a man cannot transmit his strengtli, liis
nuiscles to a j)rogeny ? "

— '^ What would you do ! I am afraid of an ungrateful
heart, u[)on my honor, I am I Find me another woman
like your wife, and I will not hesitate a moment. But
wliat shall I wish you, a boy or a girl?"

— '' A girl, a girl ! afterward, there may come a son, but
now I want a daugliter."

" God grant hei- a safe delivery Your wife is a healthy
woman, and all fears are groundless."

" Yes, but she has cluinged terribly, don't you think so .'' "

" Yes, but she is entirely different now. What an ex-
pression ! A true real Botticelli I Upon my lionor! Do
you remember liis painting in tlie villa Borgeza ? Madonna
col Bambino e Angel i. There is in that painting the head
of an angel, somewhat bent and adorned with lilies : — just
tlie very image of your wife, — the same ex])ression. Yes-
terday it attracted my attention the moment I saw her,
and 1 became agitated. . . ."

Svirski liid behind the curtain to dress.

"You ask me," continued he, from behind the curtain — -
" why I don't marry ? Do you know why ? Bukatzki often
told me that I had a sharp tongue and i)0\verful muscles,
but a woman's heart. But if I liad a wife like you have
and she were in a similar condition, I really don't know
what I should have done with her? Kneel at her feet,
salaam to her with my liead, put her in a corner and wor-
ship her like the image of a saint. — I really don't know."

Polanetzki laughed.

" Aha ! " replied lie " this is all very well before the wed-
ding. Then the very fact of being accustomed to it, stems
the overflow of feeling and sentimentality."

" I don't know, niaybe I am so foolish."

"Do you know what? When my Marinya gets over it,
slie will find you a good wife, like herself."

^' It's a bargain I " yelled Svirski from behind the cur-

,y.

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444

tain. " Verbum ! I will give myself into her pretty hands,
and if she says : ' Marry ! ' I will get married with my
eyes closed."

And coming out from behind the curtain without a coat
lie repeated: "I am willing! lam willing I All jokes
aside : If she will only consent to take that trouble."

— "Oh, women love this I If you could have witnessed
to what lengtli Panni Osnovski went to marry Zavilovski
to Castelli ! Mai'inj'a also assisted her as nnicii as I per-
mitted her to. Tliat is woman's most favorite pastime."

— "• Yesterday I nuide the acquaintance in your house of
that Zavilovski. A very nice chap and, apparently, quite
a genius. It is sufficient to glance at him. What a pio-
tile, what a feminine forehead and a bold face ! And
though his hipbones are too large, and his knees are badly
jointed, his head is a beauty ! "

— " Tliis is our Benjamin, and he is everybody's pet in
the office. — Besides, he is a very honest man."

"'Ah! he is one of your office attaches? I thought
he was one of those rich Zavilovskis, whom I met abroad.
I encountered one, a rich old man — an original "

— " He is the old man's relative, but has not a copper
to his name."

Svirski laughed.

— " Of course ! Of course ! " continued he, '* I know
old Zavilovski with his only daughter — millionaire heiress !
Not a bad little figure, that girl ! She was courted in
Florence and in Rome by several ruined princes, but the
old man came out flat, that he would not sanction his
daughter's marriage to an Italian, because they are 'the
worst I'ace.* And imagine, he considers ours the first race
in the world, and among us, in the first place, the Zavi-
lovskis, I presume. Sometime ago he made the following,'
assertion : ' Let them say whatever they please. I have
traveled the wide world over, and how many of thoso
Germans, Italians, Britons, and Frenchmen shined my
boots ! . . . But, I will never shine shoes for an} man in
tlie world ! '"

— '' A good old man ! " laugliingly replied PoLinetzki,
'' tliis shining of shoes he (Considers not a question of social
position of certain people, but a social characteristic."

44.^^

— " Yes, it seems to Iiim tlwil the Lord created some
' nations ' to shine the boots of a petty nobleman from
beyond Kutna, when the hitter takes a trip abroad. Well,
and how does he look upon his relative's match ? He al-
ways called the Bronich famil}' 'small fry.' "

— '^ Perha[)S he's indignant. But he only recently be-
iiune acquainted with 'our' man. They never saw each
oilier before, because *our' man is very proud and would
not for all the riches of the world bow to the old Uicin^ or
try to initiate himself into his graces."

— "All praise due him for that! If he only marries
well . .. . because. . . ."

" What ? You know the girl ? "

" Yes, I know Castelli, but have no idea whatever of
pills. Bah ! Had I known them, 1 could never have lived
forty years a bachelor ! They are all nice, and 1 like them
all. But a few of those that I liked, T saw again after they
were married, and I lost all confidence in them. And this
jingers me, because I think of getting married some day
myself. H so, what do I know? I know one thing, that
each and every one of the dear creatures wears a cor«et,
hut what sort of a heart is throbbing beneath it only God
knows. I also loved Castelli, but then T have loved all
women I met in my life. This last one I loved more than
the rest of them."

— " And you never thought of marrying her? "

" I did think of it, but tlien I had neither money, nor
fame, like I am blessed with now. Then I was only be-
ginning to crawl into society, to acquire my little fortune,
and you know that such people are always cowards. I
fe'ired that the Bronich household would make a sour face,
and as I was not certain of the young girl's heart, I let
her alone."

'' Zavilovski has no money either."

" He has popularity, and old Zavilovski, who is im-
mensely rich, and this counts for a good deal. Who ha?
not heard of the old man? Besides, to be frank, I did not
like the Bronichs, and I \v^aved my hand at them, and gave
them up."

They spoke for a while about the Bronichs, Castelli,
the late Bukatzki and his propensity to sharpen hisi wit

'WM

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446

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'in.

at other people*s expense, and finally parted. Polanetzld
went from Svirski to the priests, consulted with them jiiid
perfected all arrange^ients foi* the morrow's funeral. Tlie
religious ceremony took place in Rome, in view of which
Polanetzki invited only a few priests, with whose prayers
he wished to mingle his own. He was prompted by an
old affection and a recent feeling of gratitude for Bnkatzki,
who bequeathed him a considerable part of his fortune.

Besides thj Polanetzkis the funeral was attended, by
the Maslikos, the Osnovskis, the Bigels, Svirski, Plavit-
ski and Panni Chavastovska. It was a beautiful sunmier
day. The cemetery looked entirely different than it did
the day of Polanetzki's last visit. It was clad in veidnre :
and in places seemed a forest, filled with gloom and
shadow. On some monuments trembled a network of sun-
beams, penetrating through the leaves. Some of the crosses
in the depths of this forest seemed to slumber over the
cold graves. There was a vast number of small birds in
the leafage, which filled the air with their twitter, mellow
and soft, as if they were afraid to awaken the sleeping
men and women beneath the soil. Svirski, Mashko, Pola-
netzki and Osnovski took tlie casket with the remains of
Bukatzki and carried it to the sarcophagus. The priests
in their white robes, gleaming in the sun, marched in
front, after them silently followed the young ladies, dressed
in mourning. This procession advanced along the shaded
walks slowly, quietly, without sobs or tears ; all weie
serious and grave like the shadows from the trees falling
upon the monuments. Still there was in all that scene a
certain sad poetry which could have been felt and aj)pre-
ciated only by such a sensitive nature as Bukatzki's. They
reached the vault built in the shape of a sarcoj)hagus
above the ground, for Bukatzki declared when alive, that
he did not want to lie in a damp vault. The casket was
easily and softly pushed in througli the iron door, the
ladies began to pray, and a minute later liukatzki was left
to the solitude of the cemetery, tlie whispering trees, the
twittering ])irds, and to the nKucy of God.

Panni Chavostovska and the Polanetzkis went to the
grave of Lida, the rest waited outside in the carriages, for
this was the wish of Panni Osnovski. On their return,

447

she invited them all to the engagement party of Zavilov*
ski, and then to Pritulovo, their summer residence.

Svirski took his seat with Panni Chavastovska in the
carriage of the Folanetzkis, and after a long pause, as if
})iinging his thoughts and impressions in harmony, said
gloomily : *' How strange ! To-day we attended a funei"il,
to-morrow we shall all be present at an engagement, what
love plants, death reaps — is this our life ? "

urn

CHAPTER XXX.

Zavilovski expressed the wish to be betrothed in the
presence of only their immediate family. This was sec-
onded by Linetti, the ceremony was performed in the
afternoon, when the guests began to arrive. The newly
engaged felt at ease, and received their visitors as bride
and groom. She found her i61e of bride very charmiiig.
and at tiu same time, she was conscious that it enhanced
her beauty to a great extent. There was something
aerial in lier tall figure ; to-day her eyes were not droop-
ing, as if slie were sleeping, but were bright, there was a
smile on her lips, and her clieeks were flushed. She looked
so beautiful, that when Svirski beheld lier, he could not
help sighing and thinking of his " paradise lost." This
sad mood was dissipated only when he remembered his
favorite tune :

" I sing that I may slied tears never more :
That I cease thee forever to love or adore."

Every one was struck by her beauty. Old Zavilovslci
who was cari'ied on liis easy-cliair into the parlor, took
Linetti's hands and looked at her for some time. Then
turning to his daugliter, said :

''That such a 'Venetian little devil' could turn tlie
head of a poet, there is nothing surprising, because in
their heads, people say, the wind freely blows." Then
be turned to the groom and inquired smilingly: " To-dny
you will not wring my neck off for calling her ' a Venetiiiii
devil'?"

Young Zavilovski lauglied, and bending his head, kissed
the old mail's slionlder.

— " No, to-day I could wring no one's neck."

— " God blesa you, and the Holy Mother of God ! '

449

said the old man, elated at the proof of such respect and
love of his relative, and began to feel with his hand in his
cliair. He linally found a jewel case, and giving it to
Linetli added : " This is from the house of Zavilovski.
(lod grant you to wear it many long years ! "

Linetti' opened the jewel case, in which, on blue velvet,
rested a diamond brooch. Again the eld man repeated :
''From the house of Zavilovski.' But no one listened to
liim. All eyes were fixed on the diamond, the ladies held
their breath in admiration.

" It's not a question of diamonds," exclaimed Panni
Bronich almost falling in the aims of old Zavilovski, and
interrupting the reigning silence — *' but what a gift, such
a heart."

'' Drop it ! Leave me in peace ! " the old man replied, as
though defending himself.

After that the little company divided itself in still
smaller groups. The betrothed were wrapped in each
otiier. It seemed as if no one existed for them now.

Osnovski and Svirski approached Panni Polanetzki and
Panni Bigel. Kopovski entertained the hostess — Panni
Osnovski, and Polanetzki amused Panni Mashko. ]\Iash-
ko himself was ap])arently interested in the old Crcesus,
for lie barricaded him with chairs so that no one could
come near him, and engaged him in conversation about
olden and modern times — the pet theme of the old man.
i\Iashko was so clever that he agreed with him in all his
views. Mashko, among other things, explained to liim
that everything must ultimately change in this world —
tlie nobility as w^ell as the masses.

— " I, my dear sir," said Mashko, " am a follower of
hereditary instincts of that role, which leads a man back
to tlie soil wheie he was born, but being a landowner n»y-
si'lf, I am a lawyer at the same time, only on this principle,
we must have our men even in this bianch of usefulness,
or we sliall be at the mercy of })eople originating from
otlier s})heres and often })rejudiced against us. Credit is
(hie to our countrymen, that tliey, at least, the majorityT)f
tlieni, understand this very well, and prefer to trust me
with tlieir le^al affairs, in preference to others, and some
even deem it their duty.'*
29

*■

450

fj.;

iii^'

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••15

;'t

tfrv

— " We have had men in our midst in judicial insti-
tutions," replied old Zavilovzki. " As to other branches,
I really cannot see how a nobleman can help himself.
I have often heard the idea advocated that we ouoht to
grasp everything, to shun nothing ; but people forget that
it is not tlie grasping that's hard, — it's the making good u c
of it. Siiow me one that acquired a fortune through this."

'' There is a good illustration before 3^our eyes. Take
Polanetzki, for instance, that man made a considerabk'
fortune, as a partner in a commission house, and every tlii n^-
he owns he has in cash ; he can produce it to-morrow,
every cent of it. He will not deny that my advice was
often beneficial to him, tliat everything he possesses lie
owes to his deal in grain."

— '' Allow me, allow me I " replied Zavilovski looking;-
at Polanetzki — " he did, indeed, amass a fortune. So ! . . .
If he descends from the real Polanetzkis, he comes from
good old stock."

— '* And that stout brunette — is the artist Svirski."

— '' I know him from abroad. The Svirskis were also
good people. At any rate he earns a lot, but he is not
wealthy."

'^ Why not ? Not one of the largest Podolian estates
yields so much income, as his aquarelles."

"What's that?"

'' Pictures painted with water colors."

— '* Not even in oil ? Well, then, that relative of
mine may next become rich on those poems of his. Let
him write, let liini write. 1 will not be acrainstit. ]\Ianv
noblemen were poets. But they are not in question now.
You say, times are changing ? Hem ! ... let tli'Mu
change — oidy for the better."

" The main tiling," said Mashko, " is not to conceal
one's abilities in one's head, nor capital in the safes. Who-
ever does it sins against the community."

— " I beg your pardon, how am I to understand this ?
In your o[)inion I have no right to keep my ca[)i'al
under lock and key, but must open my safe to thieves and
rullians ?

«» M

Mashko smiled with an air of su})erioiity, and, piittin
])is hands on the baek <»f the chair, replied :

451

" This is not what I inoiin, my dear sir !"

And Masldvo began to ex[»iain to Zavilovski the prin-
ciples of political economy. The old nobleman listened,
and shook his head, repeating :

*' Yes, this is something new ! But I managed to get
along without it."

Panni Bironieh looked at the })etrothed couple with
a[)pai'ent emotion, telling Plavitska (wlio in turn looked vt
I'anni Osnovski with oily eyes), of her youth, lier life with
Tlieodor and tlieir misery, caused by the untimely arrival
in the world of their only v ifsi)ring. Plavitska listened
to her distractedly. Finall}' she became so affected by
her own story that she said amid tears :

^' Thus all my love, mv hope and eontidence is in
Linetti. You will understand it because you have a
daughter."

At the same time but in another corner of the parlor
Svirski chatted with Marinya.

" Who is that Perugini — that pale woman, to whom
your luisband is talking so earnestly ? "

'"This is our acquaintance, Panni Mashko. Have you
not been introduced to her ?"

" On the contrary I made her acquaintance yesterday at
tlie funeral, but I forgot her name. All I know is that
she's the wife of that man who is now' speaking to old
Pavilovski. A real Vannuci that woman ! the siime
(piietism, the same 3'ellowness, but her featui-es are lovely."

And he looked at her more attentively and added :

" Ti'ue her face is dull, lifeless, but the outline of the
whole figure is remai'kable. She seems thin, but look at
lior back and her shoulders."

lUit this did not interest Panni Polanetzki ; she looked
at her husband, and on her face a look of alarm appeared,
for at that moment Polanetzki bent down to Panni Masli-
ko and s])oke to her of something Marinya could not
lii'ar. It occurred to her that he gazed into Painii Mash-
ko's pide face and dull eyes with the same look he bestowed
upon her during their bri<lal ti'ip. Oh, she reniemlxM'ed
Well that glance ! And \\( v heart beat fast, as if she i'oi-e-
s;iw some danger. Still shelhought : '" It cannot be, this
is unworthy of my Staeh." She could not hel[) following

iiij

45f2

V ■

them with her eyes, to set; li nv in i mated Polanetzki was
ill his conversation, liovv indiii'erent Panni Mashko.
'* And why these foolish thoughts," mused Maiinya, '^ he
speaks as is his wont, with ardor, and no more."

Her doubts were furthermore dispelled by Svirski, who
either did not notice her uneasiness, or did not understand
the real expression of Pohmetzki's face at that moment ;
and said :

" But wliy is she silent ? Can't slie talk at all ? Of
course your husband is compelled to keep up the con-
versation, and it looks as if he was bored, even angered."
In a moment Marinya's face became clear and beaming. —
*' You are right," said she — " he is really bored, and as soon
as he gets in that mood, he becomes angry." And she
became of merry mood again. Now she would even give
a brooch like the one old Zavilovski gave Linetti, to have
her husband at her side, whispering to her a few kind
words.

This desire was realized in a few minutes. Pan
Osnovski engaged Panni Mashko in conversation, and
Polanetzki rose, said a few words, when passing by her,
to Panni Osnovska who spoke to Kopovski, and finally
sat down beside his wife.

" You wish to tell me something ? " asked he.

" What a coincidence, Stach," replied Marinya, "only a
moment ago I called you in my thought, and you seemed
to hear it, for you came."

— '* You see what a considerate husband I am ! " replied
Polanetzki, smilingly — " but this is very simple. I noticed
that you were alone, that you looked at me. I grew
alarmed, thought you felt bad, and came."

— " I looked at you, because I feel lonely without you."

" That is just why I came. Well, how do you feel ?
Tell me the truth : maybe you want to return home ?"

— " No, I feel very well, indeed. I talked witli Pan
Svirski of Panri Mashko, and spent trie time s})lendi(lly."

— " 1 am afraid that you misjudged her. That artist
declared liimself that he has an evil tongue."

— "On the contrary," protested Svirski, — "this time
I was only admiring her figure. There will come a time
for tlie evil tongue, too."

^l«-i*.'>''^Wil-.-^"*«-:.<».>-^*"-'i*»^

4r,^\

" And Piinni Osnov.ski decluiedlier figure to be hideous,
which merely proves the op[)osite. But, let me, Miirinya,
tell you something of Piinni Osnovski." And Polanetzki
bent down to tlie ear of liis wife and whispered: '' Do you
know wliat I overheard when going to you a moment
ago r

'• Something funny, I know. "

'^ Depends how you look at it. I heard Kopovski ad-
dressing her ' thou.' "

^^Stachl"

"That is just wdiat he said to her. * Thou art always
the same.' "

" Perhaps he repeated another person's words."

" I don't know . . . maybe . . . But they were in love
with each other once upon a time."

'* But, Stach, are you not asluimed?"

" You had better tell them tliat, or rather Panni Osnov-
ski."

Marinya knew very well of the existence of per ^dy, but
considered it a vague French looking tlieory. Slit did not
expect that one could come upon it in ever}- step in real
practical life. In view of this she began to scan Panni
Osnovski with astonishment. Slie was too honest, how-
ever, to believe at once in tlie existence of this evil. She
could not agree that there was any tiling wrong in the re-
lations of these two, if only because of the stupidity of
Kopovski. Nevertheless it struck her that they led quite
a lively conversation.

[n the mean time these two, seated between a large
llower-pot and the piano, not only chatted, but quarreled
for over a quarter of an hour. When Polanetzki passed
them, after dropping a few words to Panni Osnovski, the
latter said alarmingly :

*' I think he overheard us. You are always so careless."

— '"• Well, here you are again ! I am always guilty of
something. And who is always repeating: ' Anette, be
cautious ! ' "

In this regard they were worthy of each other. Ko-
povski owing to liis stupidity could foresee notijing. He
Was incautious to a high degree. Two persons already
knew their secret, others could guess it, and Osnovski

■ •

must be blind indeed, not to perceive the frivolous sliort-
comings of his wife. Hut this is just what she relied on.

— "No, I assuie you, he lieurdnolliino-,"said Kopovski,
looking at Pohinetzki, and resuming- the conversation in
Fi'encli, lie said :

'vlt' you loved me, you would act differently. It's
})ecause you do)i't love me that you take no pains, that's
all tlie SI ^e t' ou."

— "W^ilu'] I love vou or not, but with Castelli —
never ! D; = v ^>; understand ? Never ! I prefer any otlicr
woman, but not ii." And if you really loved me, you
would not think of marrying."

— "'• Nor would I, were you different to me than you are."

— " Patientez ! "

— " Yes, till death ! If I could marry Linett', we would
always be near each other. "

— "I repeat : Never ! "

— "But why?"

— " You will not understand this. And at last, Castelli
is betrothed, and it's foolish to waste time in useless
arguments."

" It was by your advice that I feigned love for her, that I
pretended to court lier and proposed to her, and now you
have nothing but rebuke for me. At first I thought of
nothing, then I grew to like her. I won't deny it. She
is liked by everybody, besides she's a good match."

Panni Osnovski clutclied her handkerchief in her fist.

— " And you dare to tell me face to face that you like
her." She flamed up — "At last make your choice —
she or I ! "

" Of course you, but T can't marry you, while I could
marry Linetti. I saw that she liked me."

— " If you knew women but a little, you would he
grateful to me that I did not allow you to marry her.
You don't know lier. She is like a match, and very mean
at that. Do you mean to say tliat you did not perceive
my motive in making you court lier was to deceive Yuzia
and the rest? Otherwise how could you explain your
daily visits to our house? "

— *' This I would understand, if you were different to
me."

455

" In such case, do not hinder me in my work. You see
yourself, how well 1 nianiiged that your portrait should not
he linished, which gives you an excuse to come to Pritu-
lovo. Later on there will arrive in Pritulovo a relative of
Vuzia. Stephanie llatkovska. Doyou understand ? Vou
must, again, i)rctend to be in love, and I will attend to
Yuzia . . . Thus, }ou can remain a long time in Pjitu-
lovo . . . I've already written to Katkovska. She's not
prutty, but she's a very nice girh"

*•' Always pretend and pretend I And the reward — is
nothing. ..."

" Listen. T am consumed by a desiv^ t tell you !
don't come I "

— " Anettel"

'' Well, then, be prudent and patient. I ai not long be
angry with you. Now go to Panni Ma ' k^ and entertain
her for a while."

Kopovski went away followed by the eyes of Panni
Osnovski, who was a[)[)arently angry, but at the same time
sym[)athized with him. He was very liandsome, with his
chirk com[)lexion and ^^hite cravat ; she could not suffi-
ciently admire him. Though Linetti was already betrothed
to another, Painii Osnovski was still haunted by the
thought that her rival could not only take possession of
him as a husband, but as a lover. Telling Ko})OVski that
she would prefer any other woman than Linetti, she spoke
tlie truth. It was a question of her weakness to that
feeble-minded Phidymion and to her own vanity, in a
word, her "nerves" did not agree with it. A certain
L'sthetic love which she deemed the most su[)reme s})ecies
iiiid its origin her (Irecian nature, took the ])lace in hei'of
line moral sense and pure conscience. Owing to this
caprice she fell under the influence of Kopovski's beauty,
hut possessing a liery head and a cold temperament, she
int'lerred — as Zavilovski justly guessed it — to play
with evil rather than the evil itself. At the same time
clinging to the rule : " If not I — then no one, " she was
ready to go to extremes in order to prevent his marriage
to Tiinetti. She was firndy convinced that the latter, not-
wiihstanding her words of contem[)t, her sarcastic remarks
f^uout his beauty — gave utterance to witticisms which

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456

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betrayed her affection for the man she tried to belittle.
Above all Paniii Osnovski wished to vanquish her rival,
and in this she succeeded admirably through the aid of
Zavilovski. She knew that the young girl, empty -heaittid
and shallow-minded, would be unable to resist the temp-
tation of marrying a man with an illustrious name, 'i'hus
she saved Ko[)Ovski for herself. Besides she arranged ;i
brilliant spectacle, which all women love to see, who
thirst for more impressions than powerful sensations.
She triumphed; everything went according to her wishes.
Kopovski alone irritated her. She thought he was her
l^roperty, and yet she made the sudden and unexpected
discovery, that, stupid as he was, lie understood that Os-
novski could not hinder him loving Linetti, that in short,
two wei'c better than one. This upset all her calculations.
It enraged her and slie began to plan revenge. In the
meantime she rejoiced that Linetti, for the time being at
least, was, seemingly, genuinely in love with her Zavilov-
ski, which for Kopovski appeared incomprehensible.

Her meditations were interrupted by an invitation to
supper. Osnovski, to whom the words of Zavilovski about
married life appeared a very apt expression of his own feel-
ings on the subject, had the unfortunate temerity to
repeat at supper, in offering a toast, his old time wish that
Zavilovski might live as happily with Linetti as he with
his beloved Anette.

Unwillingly the eyes of Zavilovski and Polanetzki
turned to the charming hostess, who cast a quick searching;
glance at Polanetzki, and the doubts of both were shat-
tered at that moment. She was convinced that Polanetzki
heard her conversation with Kopovski; Polanetzki that
Kopovski was not repeating another's words when lie
addressed her " thou." The thought that Polanetzki spoke
to Marinya about it enhanced her lust for vengeance.
She became distracted, heard not the various toasts
offered by her husband, Zavilovski, Plavitzki and Bigel.
After supper she resolved to have dancing, and Yuzia,
obedient as usual, gave the plan the warmest su])port.
Being of merry mood he declared it was time for Ignati
to have Linetti in his embrace, '" because up to this mo-
ment he had never enjoyed that rare bliss."

< I'

4oT

Zavilovski, however, could not avail himself of the
golden op[)()ituniiy, for he liad not the least idea of danc-
ing, which surprised Panna Bronich and l^inetti niont dis-
agreeably. Kopovski was an excellent dancer and set off
with tiiv; lieroine of the nifjht — Linetti. They formed a
beautiful couple, and the eyes of all turned unwill-
ingly upon them. Zavilovski saw her light head leaning
on her [partner's shoulder, saw their breasts touch ; saw
them botli dancing in time to Bigel's music ; combined
their motions and gliding steps into harmony, as if melting
into one perfect figuie. He was angry, for he recognized
that there was something he could not do, something that
would attach her to others, and 2)ait her from him. To
fill his bitter cup, every one around him admired the
stately pair. " What a handsome man I" said Zavilovski.
•' If there existed genius of the masculine sex, as
tliere are of the female, he could serve as such in the
female paradise of Mahomet."

Thev waltzed on, and in the music of that waltz as in
their movements there was such an intoxicating languid-
ness that it irritated Zavilovski and recalled to his mind
the cynical, but truthful, verse of Byron about the waltz.
At last he said to himself with impatience: " Wlien will
tliat jackass let Linetti go ? "

That "jackass" finally released liis hold of Linetti and
ofTered his hand to Panni Osnovski. Linetti sat down
at the side of her fiance and said : *' He dances lovely
and likes to brag of it. . . . Poor fellow, he has very lit-
tle else to be proud of. Evidently I am awfully tired,
and my heart is beating fast. I wish you would put your
liand and feel it, but this is inconvenient in the presence
of others. . . . However, how strange this is ! I now
belong to you entirely."

— "Yes, youai'e mine," replied Zavilovski, extending
liis hand. " But for Heaven's sake, Linetti, to-day of all
days you must not address me ' You.' "

" Yes, I am your property," whispered she, and did not
push his liand away.

— " I envied him," said Zavilovski, passionately squeez-
ing her fingers.

'•Maybe you do not want me to dance any more?

458

?i.

t \>

,:{'[;

thongli I do love it dearly, yet I prefer to remain wiili
you "

" Oh, my adored one !....'*

'• Tliou<rh I am a foolisli, worldly girl, yet I wisli to be
worthy of you. . . . You see, I love music ; . . . even
waltzes and polkas affect me greatly. But how well lliat
Bigcl plays ! Of course I know that there are better
things than waltzes. Hold the handkercliief a minute,
and release my liand. Jt is youi* hand, but I need il to
ai'range my hair. . . . 'Jliere is nothing bad in dancing
after all, but if you object to it, I shall not dance. I am
an obedient creatnre. 1 will learn to read yonr wi.shes in
your eyes and then be like the water that reflects the
clouds and the rainy weather. I feel so good when at
your side. . . . See how well they dance."

Zavilovski had not sufficient woi'ds to express his grati-
tude. In the meantime she pointed to Polanetzki, who
danced with Panjii Mashko.

" He really dances better than Kopovski," said she with
shining eyes — '' and how light, how stately he is ! I would
like to have one dance with him, if you will allow it I"

" Oh, as much as you please, my darling, my treasure,"
replied Zavilovski, who was not a bit jealous of Polanetzki.
*' I will send him to you myself."

— " Ah, how well they dance, how well I Tliey simply
glide, swim and make my body shudder."

The same opinion was shared byPanni Polanetzki, who,
following with her eyes the dancing couple, felt a greater
chagrin than Zavilovski felt a moment previous. I toc-
curred to her several times that her husband looked ;il
Panni Mashko with the same glance that attracted lici'
attention when Svirski first observed that Polanetzki was
either bored or angry. From time to time the dancers
glided by her and slie saw distinctly how his hand em-
braced her waist, liow his breath touched her neck, how
Ins nostrils dilated, and how his glances glided over her
decolette bosom. All this could escape the observation
of others, but not so with Marinva, who read his face as a
book. And suddenly the light of the lamp grew dim in
her eyes. She understood that there was a great difference
between happiness and unhappiness. But this did not

459

.^^ii^

last long, not more tlian a minute, during wliicli her lieart
v/as oppressed and ceased throbbing. Hetore her seemed
to lift a curtain, fro'u beliind which was visible the whole
poveity of human nature, the whole sham of life. Natur-
ally, nothing had actually happened yet, but J'anni Pol-
anetzki was staggered by the hideous thought that there
might coUiC a moment when herconiidence in her husband
would vanish like smoke. She endeavored to i^et rid of
her tormenting doubts, .and said to herself that he was
under the influence of the dance and not the dancer. She
refused to believe hd own eyes. She was ashamed of her
Stach, of whom she liad l^een proud until this moment;
she struggled with her feelings, knowing full well that
from this insignificant and sudden suspicion great misun-
derstandings might arise which would cast tlieir sliadows
upon her future life.

At this moment was heard the voice of Panni Osnov-
ski near her, saying:

" Ah, Marinya, it is evident that your husband and
Panni Mashko were created to waltz with each other uli
their life. What a pair ! "

" Ye-es," uttered Marinya.

" Were I in your place," continued Panni Osnovski,
" I should be extremely jealous. And are you not? No?
I will be frank, and tell you that I am a jealous woman.
At least, I have been. I know that Yuzia loves me, but
men in general, even if tliey love us, have tlieir fantasies.
Their heads do not ache from that, but our liearts do,
though they see it not."

Mil? lya's eyes were all that time inte:«tly fixed on her
Imsbana, who escorted Panni Mashko to a seat and invited
Linetti to dance. From Marinya's heart a heavy load fell
away. It was tlie dance he loved, not the dancer. Her
suspicions began to ])nle, and she accused herself of un-
due haste in iudo-iiiQ-. In the meantime Piuini Osnovski
eontmued: "Do you know how I discover when Yu/.ui
begins to flirt?"

"How?"

" Let me teach you a valuable lesson. As soon as a
man's conscience is not clear, he begins to sus[)ect others,
ill order to distract attention from his own misdeeds.

460

- 1 ti

! '■;|i

This is their method. They are all liars, the best of
them.""

With these words and the fullest conviction that slic
made a good move, she went away, leaving in Maiinya's
head a vej'italjle chaos. A [)hysical exhaustion overctinie
her, which grew in intensity every moment. The sus-
picion, Osnovski's hints, Kopovski's addressing the host
'' thou," and to add to it all, the storm that raged outside,
and the dancing couples that whirled past her, inside,—
what a chaos of impression, what a torture !

— "No, 1 must be sick," mentally repeated slie. Slie
wanted to go home, but the storm outside increased in
fury. Home, home ! Ah, if her Stach would s[)eak to
her one caressing, kind word, her heart Avould grow light!
" How tired I am ! " she thouo-ht time and a^'ain with a
pang.

Polanetzki finally came to lier. At the sight of her
pale face, all the sympathy of which he was capable of
expressing was felt in liis words :

— "M}'' poor girl," said he, *' time for you to retire,
if only the rain w^ould cease. Are you afraid of a
storm ? "

— " No, sit down near me."

— "How sleepy you are ! "

— " Mayl)e I should not liave come here. I need rest. "

— "The devil take all these dances," said he, as if fol-
lowing liis own thouglits. "I'd rather sit at home and
take care of my own girl."

This was said in a sincere tone, and it relieved her.
She telt at ease.

— '* When you are with me," said she, "I do not feel
so tired. A moment ago I felt very bad indeed. Anette
was at my side, but what good is in that? When a })ei-
son is sick, they want some loved one near them. It may
sound strange here, at a party, in tlie presence of strangers,
... so long after the wedding, . . . but 1 can't help sayiiiu"
it, tliat I want you at ni}' side, that I love you. Yes, I
love you so dearly."

" And I love von, mv darlinjr," replied Polanetzki, who
at that moment wuderstood that his love to her could bo
pure and calm. ^

( , «a^*aK;jite«iSi'««<»J««!a>»

rr..,. -.j.^ iiiiiBili Ifliiiiifc^HI

iimiMmm0m m» « t fr i i/ ^ i»iiaBiii>,ixi-''

:6i

The storm ended, only streaks of liglitning flashing
tlirough the skies. A quarter of an hour hiter the \\ealliur
eleared up entirely ; the guests began to take leave. Only
one, Zavilovski, remained, wisliing to bid his bride good-
by unseen by others. Polanetzki ordered the eoacliman to
drive slowly, and Marinya, tired and slee})y, sank into the
arms of her husband. At tlrst slie wanted to })ut him to
the test, to ask questions, but soon dismissed the idea,
saying to lierself: ''I will tell him nothing. Never a
word!" At last weariness of mind and body overeame
lier, and when tlie carriage reached the house she was fast
asleep in lier husband's arms. At the same time Zavi-
lovski and Linetti went out from the parlor to breathe
the fragrant air of the garden. Tlie skies were all aglow
with myriads of twinkling stai'S, ami, after the rain, seemed
to smile, as if through tears. They stood silent for some
time, then Zavilovski took her hand, on which sparkled
the engagement ring, and said :

"No matter how long I gaze u])on this ring, my sweet-
heart, I cannot believe my own eyes. It seems to me all
like a beautiful dream, and I dare not think that you are
really mine."

Linetti put her hand in his, that the rings might touch,
and dreamily rej^lied :

" Yes, there is no longer Linetti, but simply your bride.
How strange that in a mere ring there should be such a
sacred power."

Zavilovski's heart melted with happiness.

" Because," said he, " in the ring there is a soul that is
given to you, and takes another in exchange. And this
golden link stands for all that's best in man : 1 desire, I
love, I promise ! "

'' Yes, I desire, I love, and I promise," like an echo
repeated the young girl.

He embraced her, and, pressing lier to his heart, began
to take his leave. Carried away by the power of love and
the yearning of his soul, his farewell was like a religious
adoration. He kissed tlic hands that gave iiim so much
lia[)piness, the eyes that looked at him with so much
nuituality, that little ] ead so dear to him.

Linetti and her aunt remained alone in the room.

^■^

%\'

x'* ' •* ■

■•*•€.''

^*-

462

; • ;■ I

" Are you tired, my child ? " asked the old lady,
looking at Linetti, who was awaking as if from a
dream.

"Alas, aunt! I am now coming back from the stars . . .
and that is such a long, long way !

? »»

463

CHAPTER XXXT.

Zavilovski could say now that even for poets will op-
ca.sionally shine a briglit star. From the moment of his
engagement to Linetti, he often jjondeied tlie question,
where to get means to cover the expenses of the wedding
and to furnisli a house. Being in love, lie had no clear
conception of such things, and imagined tliis to be a new
obstacle in life whicli must be conquered. But as lie had
already overcome many difficulties, he now depended on
his own strength and decision to win in this matter. But
how? This question did not worry him.

Otliers worried for liim. Old Zavilovski, notwithstand-
ing his recognition of genius, believed tliat tlie head of
t'very [)oet was full of nonsense ; lie nevertheless invited
Polanetzki to consult with him and said :

" I tell you candidly, I like this fellow. His father was
a good-for-nothing, lazy man, who only knew about cards,
women and h<nses. But God has punisbed him. The
young man did not follow in his steps, ))ut has kept up
the good name of the family. I\Iy other relatives are not
imicli to my liking, hut this fellow, if (iod will grant me
to live much longer, I will never forget, and would even
now like to hel[) bim out. True, be is oidy a distant rel-
ative, but he bears my name, and tliiit is important."

'' We also have thought about it, but do not know how
to help him. You cannot mention tbe subject to him, he is
so ambitious and would refuse lielj). You would lose pa-
tience with him."

'* (), he is a pi-oud fellow!" exelainied Zavilovski witli
evident self-satisfact ion.

" Yes, lie was employed i'; oni- establishment as book-
keeper and corresi)ondent and I took a gi-eat fancy to
I'iin, and togethei* with Bigel offered him a loan of a few

A, *

404

thousand to fix up a house, which he coukl return to us
from his sabuy, in the course of three years. But lie re-
fused, saying that liis affianced will accommodate herself to
his circumstances. Osnovski also wanted to offer his
services hut we dissuaded him, knowing that he will not
accept."

'' Perhaps he has liis own."

"He has, and has not. It came to our knowledqe
lately that his mother left him a few thousand and the
income fiom this money he devotes to the supj-ort of his
father, who is in an insane asylum ; lie will not touch the
principal. Before he entered our employ, he suffcied
from })overty, almost on the verge of starvation, but would
not take a penny from the fund. Such is his charactei",
and that is why we respect him. It seems he iiovi. expects
to realize something from his writings ; and with this Ik;
intends to defray the ex[)enses of the wedding. Possibly
sol His name is now well known."

"This is mere speculation. Ko matter how famous he
may be, mere speculation."

" Don't say so. But it is far off and long to wait."

"Perhaps he is only ceif^'./uiious with you because you
are a stranger, but I am ;■. r* ! .ive."

"We may be strangers but know him longer and better
than you," answered Polanetzki, shaking his head.

Zavilovski frowned and looked dissatisfied. For the
first time in his life he had to trouble himself how to give
away money and whether it wcnild be accepted. It wor-
ried and at the same time pleased him. lie remembered,
but did not tell Polanetzki, how many times he liad to
pay the notes of this young man's father, and what notes !
and now the apjile fell so far fioni the tree !

" "Veil," said he, •"• God wills it so. The young generation
has changed so much, that even the devil has nothing to
cfier in the way of temptation."

His (ace brightened. Optimistic by nature, his heart
was now full of merry thouglits.

"Just think of him, fii-m as a rock. — Rascal, able ami
iii'lustrious, and such character."

Saying this, he shook his head and purtjing his lips iis
if to whistle, added :

■..-ii..'-^^^ ji->*»«KA-!«*tiaii!-«»tsc

465

"Just think of it, this is a nobleman I By Heaven, I
did not f:;x[)ect it."

" It seems there is no other waj-," said rohmetzki, "and
liis affianced will have to get used to him."

But the old man looked displeased.

''That is all very well," answered he, "but will she
or will she not accustom lierself. Who knows her? So
long as the engagement lasts she will be satisfied, but for
how long? J^esides there is an aunt. I [)ersonally respect
l)eople wlio make their own fortune, but not upstarts, who
affect to be accustomed to palaces and luxuries. Others
again," pointing to his daughter, " would consent to live
in a garret, if slie promised. Look at iironich. Both he
and his wife were siiallow people, and the girl was brought
up in their school. Neither you nor Ignati know them
well."

"I do not know them at all, but have heai'd different
opinions in regard to them; but, for the sake of Ig.Miti, I
would like to know more of them."

"I have known them for some time, but stiU do not
know them well. Judging from what Panni Bronich
says, they are religious women, and so virtuous tliat tL^-'y
ought to be canonized while living. You see the>'^ are
women wlio fear God and strictly follow his comiiiand-
ments, and there are such wdio make sMort out of t! rur
faith, and these are tlie kind that grow ; I blossom."

"You are right," said Polanetzki, lau Jiing.

"Is it not true? I liave seen maiiv in mv davs. P>ut
let us turn to our subject again. Cai. you not thiidv of
some way in which this wild cat \\'!1 accept help from
me."

Helena Zavilovski who was absorbed in her embroidery
work, as though she had not heard a word of their con-
versation, raised her liead and looked at them wilh lier
steelnjold eyes.

"There is a way, and a very simple oi^e,"she intorpos<'d.

— " You don't mean to say you have found one! " said
the old nobleman with line scorn.

—-What is it?"

" Plain enough. Put a snug sum in the bank for
Ignati's father."
30

fli

^■'""s^i^

-.466

5^,

I
i

^'^

— " This won't do. I've done enough for his father,
and I never wish to see liini. Wljat I want now is to do
something for Jgnati himself."

'' But if you will pi-ovide for tlie fatlier, the son will Ix)
able to use the legacy left him by his mother."

*' To be sure, that is true, now vou see neith(u* of us
could devise a plan, while she easily found a way."

"" You are indeed right," said P()ianet/.ki,and he looked at
her with great curiosity, but she bent her head to her work.

The news of this tui-n of affairs greatly i)l(;ased Panni
Polanetzki and the Hiorels and awakened an interest in
Helena Zavilosvki. It w^as said of her, that she was cold
and unap])roachable,but it was discovered that beneath tliis
coldness there was hidden a tragedy that had changed
this society woman into a queer being, and took her from
the world and its pleasui'es. Some praised her pliil-
anthi'0|)y, but few really knew that she was charitable.
Men argued that in lier manners there was an ex})ression
of coritempt, as if she could ■ ot forgive them the fact that
she remained a s})inster.

Young Zavilovski took a trip to Pritulovo and returnrd
within a week after this conversation took })lace between
Polanetzki and old Zavilovski. As soon as he found that
the old nol. Ionian had de})osited, in the name of his father,
a sumt wice the amount of his own legacy, he rushed to
thank liim and ii refuse tlie gift; but the old man \\as
on firm ground and at once sto])ped him.

"How does this concern you? I did not do it for you.
Wliat light iiave you to acce])t or refuse ? if I want to help
my siciv rel;<tive, tliat is my affair."

'I\< this hrgu'nert there could be noi'eply. 'J'he interview
(Mided \v\[h embraces, and both, until now strangers, felt
nnly re':red io each otiier. ICven Helena appeared
hivorable to Ignati ; and to tlie old man, who often
s' '/retlv wi bed he liad a son, he became sti'onoly attacluMl.
.V week later Paimi iironich cr.me to Waisaw and ealled
on the old man. Sjieaking about th(» young couple, she
mentioned sevtu-al times tlKit her Linetti was man yiiig
a poor man, the resul*. of which was that the old man
lost pntience and exclaimed :

''• Wliat iire you talking about ! God alone knows who

■p

46r

made a Ijetier match, your niece or Ignati, financially as
well as iv. oilier respects."

Paiini lirohieli was not offended by this remark ; on llie
contrary, lier attention was attracted by the word '* liiian-
L'ial," and her imagination sti'etched the meaning of it.
She therenj)on visited tlie Polanetzkis and told them tliat
liie old man formally piomised to give Ignati an estale in
Prussia; at the same time she confessed that she loved tlie
young man with tlie same motherly feeling that she had
tor Leila, and finally expiessed her conviction that her
Theodor would have loved him as well, and tliat both
could have borne more easily the loss of Leila.

Young Zavilosvki knew nothing about this or about
the imaginary Prussian estate, or the fact that he took
Leila's place. lie onl}^ noticed that the conduct of people
toward him began to change. Information about tho
estate spread over the city with lightning speed, ins
acquaintances saluted him altogether different and his
ooUeao'ues in the office were no Ioniser familiar witli liim.
Returning from Pritulovo, he visited the })e«>[)le who were
})resent at the engagement party, and the rapidity with
which his visit was returned by ]\lashko evidenced the
change in his relations with the outer world ; for Mashko
from the beginning of their acquaintuice had looked down
u[)onhim. True, even now, he acted in a patronizing way,
but his manner showed a moie friendly familiarity.
Zavilovski, altliough very artless, was perfectly intelligent,
and knew that all this was affectation.

"It is queer," he wondered, '"why this clever fellow
played such a disgusting role?"

lit! mentioneil the matter to Polanetzki.
'' What concerns this Mashko," remarked Polanetzki,
'• is that he knows you are marrying a girl reputed to be
rich, knows that you are friendly with old Zavilovski and
perha|)s tinough you may come in contact with him.
Mashko thinks about his future, for that matter of invali-
dating the will is based upon very poor grounds."

As a matter of fact the young attorney who defended the
interests of the institutions in whose benefit the will was
made, showed great skill and energy.

With this the talk about Mashko was concluded. Panni

468

Polaiietzki asked Zavilovski about Pritiilovo and its
iiiliabitaiits, and this was an endless source of conversation
for the young man. lie described the estate witli its
sliady gardens, its sunny hikes, tlie paths lined with linn'
trees and the lawns planted with willows, the liazel busli.
and farther on the pine forest. Befoie the mind of
Marinya rose her native Kremen and she felt homesick.
She tliought of asking her liusband to takelicr to Vontori,
to that little church where she was baptized, where her
motlier was buried. Perhaps Polanetzki also thouglit
about Kremen, for he waved his liand and remaiked:

'* The country is monotonous. I remember Bukatzki said
that he would passionately love tlie country on condition
that it possess 'a good cook, a big libraiy^ handsome
women and not to stay longer than two days in the year.'
I can quite understand him."

" However," answered Marinya, " even you wanted to
own a small piece of ground in the suburbs."

" Yes, but only to avoid spending the summer with the
Bigels as we liave to do this year."

'*When I find myself in thecountr3%" remarked Zavilo-
vski, "I have a desire to farm. INIy betrothed does not
like the city, she is an artist. To me nature has certain
charms. Linetti points out objects to me wldch I myself
would never observe. Two da^^s ago, when we were in the
woods, she showed me a fern in the sun, and it was very
beautiful. She told me pine trees have a violet colorini^*
in the evening. Slie called my attention to flowers which f
never saw and like an enchantress shows me a new world."

Polanetzki thought this was merely the fashion, the
imaginary love of art which all young ladies adopt, not for
sake of ait or nature, but for the sake of attraction,
evidence of a desire to exhibit culture and an artistic soul.
But he kept his thoughts to himself. Zavilovski continued :

" She also loves the country children and tliinks they
are tine types. In fair weather we are always out and aie
both sunburned. We ])]ay tennis and are making great
progress in the game. Osnovski also plays, and what a
Bplendid man he i "'

Polanetzki had learned tlie game while in Belgium, and
boasted of his knowledge.

j,»»* ?«.j-i«te4.#«»*t. i 'tafcss--* «.*i«i«.'.

*iit»mm-»*-ii!i^tmtmiei>Kt.tMtmii'»ltt.

469

" Sorry I was not there, for I could teach you how to
phiy."

''Teach me, perhaps, but not the Osnovskis ; tlioy all
play well, especially Kopovski."

" How ! is Kopovski in Pritulovo? "

" Yes," answered the young man.

They looked at each otlier and guessed, in a moment,
what was in each other's thouglits. There followed a
minute of silence, disagreeable to both. Marinya 1)1us1km1,
not being able to hide her excitement. Zavilovski, who
thought he alone knew the secret, seeing lier blush, be-
came confused, and trying to overcome his perplexity,
rapidly began :

"Yes, Kopovski is in Pritulovo. Osnovski invited liim
to please Linetti, who washes to finish his portrait ; she
will soon have no time for it. There is now on a visit there
a young girl, Panna Ratkovska, to whose heart Kopovski
is laying siege in a vigorous manner. In August we will
all leave for Scheveninger. If old Zavilovski had not come
to the aid of my father, I certainly could not afford that
trip, but now I may freely dispose of my money as Hike."

He spoke to Polanetzki about his petition in the latter's
office, and asked for a vacation of several months, as he
did not wish to lose the position altogether. He soon
took leave of the Polanetzkls, and went home to write a
letter to his bride. In two davs more he would see her
again, but meanwhile he deluged lier with letters.

When Zavilovski departed, Polanetzki said to his wife:
" Have you noticed that Zavilovski either knows or sus-
pects something? There can be no doubt now. Poor
blind Osnovski ! "

" This very blindness ought to save her, to keep her on
the straight road," observed Marinya. '' It would be hor-
rible I "

— " Noble natures pay for confidence w4th gratitude,
treacherous natures with contempt and perfidy."

470

CHAPTER XXXII.

These words relieved and encouraged iMavinya. Surely
her husband could not utter them if he were ca^tahle of
betraying her confidence. She tlieret'ore thouglit calmly
of living in the neigliborhood of Panni jMasliko. 'J'he
latter, of course, living with her mother, will be a fre-
quent visitor in the adjoining villa of the Bigels, Mliieh
the Polanetzkis intended to share that summer. Mashko
would not allow liis wife to s[)end the summer in Kremen.
He loved her too well, and found in her his oidy comfoit
in his tribulations. Hard times were ahead foi- the iim-
bitious lawyer. Though the contest of the Ploshov.^ki will
was not a failure, yet it became com})licaled more and
more, and the numerous creditors of Masliko began to
murmur. His adversary, the young legal celebrity, Seli-
odka, was not content with spreading evil news concern-
ing Mashko's affairs, but liad some of tliem a})pear in
print. A struggle of life and death liad begun between
the two. Tlie result was doubtful, but meanwhile Mash-
ko did not fare well; his credit diminished, the j.opular
confidence in liim was shaken. Again a feverish hunt for
money began. Naturally, tlie annulling of tlie testament
could save him, but for this time was needed. In the
meantime the snapping threads had to be tied together — a
very difficult, humiliating, and painful task. At last
matters reached such a turn that, two weeks after Polan-
etzki removed his little liousehold to Bigel's villa, Mashko
was compelled to ask from Polanetzki a " friendh'' favor"
— to indorse a note for several thousand roubles. Polan-
etzki was a generous man, but had his own theories, that
advised caution in financial matters. He refused to in-
dorse the note, but instead treated Mashko to some of his
views on the subject,

471

*' With me it is a matter of |/iiMciple ; I never iTidorso
notes. I (^an see no benefit in it tor you oi' myself. I
would ratliur offer you my personal aid in cold cash, if
you are temi)oiarily end)arrassed, l)ut not ruined. As it
is, r [)refer to reserve my services for some future oc-
casion."

— '' In other words," dryly responded Mashko, "'you
are holdini^ out a faint hope of sup[)ort in case I am de-
clared ljankru[)t? "

— '" No, this means that if a catastrophe cannot be
averted, by taking- my money, you will have a chance to
start out ag-ain in life with the small capitaL Now you'll
(lro[) it, like so much paper in the lire, without a prolit to
you, with a loss to myself."

They returned to their wives. Both were angry:
Mashko because he asked favors, Polantjtzki l)ecause he
refused to errant them. This mood was intensilied in tlie
latter when he compared his own wife with thiit of
Mashko. To the ti^reat chagrin of the lawyer, nothinor
gave him the right to expect the birtli of an heir, and his
wife retained all the girlish grace of her slender form.
And now, di'essed in her new suit, she looked beside
Maiinya, not only like a young girl, but much yonnoei-.
Polanetzki thought he had lost his infatnation for Painii
^lashko, but now he realized that he was mistaken, that,
tlianks to the proximity of their residences, they would
see each other frequently, and he would soon become a
prey to her charms. However, his love for his wife be-
came warmer and more cordial. When Mashko left,
Marinya noticed their cold parting, and was bold enough
to ask her husband the reason. Polanetzki was always
adverse to discussing '" business" with his wife, but made
an exception in this case.

'" r refused to comply with ^Fashko's request," said he,
*-and, to tell the truth,! i-egi-et it now. Though he has
some prospects of saving liimself, yet his condition is such
tliat he might stumble and fall before he reaches his goal.
We have never been friends, and I iilmost det(\st him ; he
ii'iitates and iiinioys me ; nevertheless, life ])rings ns con-
stantly together, and he once did mc a great service. I
paid him in the same coin, but he's in trouble again."

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Maiinya listened to him witli ill-concealcl ploasuio.
She tliou<^ht tliat if her liusband was indeed fascinated l)y
Panni Masliko, he would not liave refused t(» lend Masliko
the paltry sum. She was sorry for Masliko.

— ''Do you suppose it would all be lost?" she asktil
timidly.

— '' Maybe, and maybe not. Hut I can refuse," he
added, not without })ride. " Higel is niueli softer."

— *' Do not say it. You are vei-y kind yourself, and th*;
best proof of it is the fact that you feel bad about it."

— ''Naturally it is not very pleasant to eontemphit(3
that even a stranger is struggling, like a fish on the ice,
for the lack of a few thousand roubles. I understand his
troubles. Mashko must make several payments to-nior-
row. He liuntedfor money high and low, but cautiously,
so as not to cause suspicion, not to frighten Lis creditors,
and as a last lesource counted on me. He cannot settU
these claims lo-morrow. He will probably ])e able to raise
the necessary sum in a few days, but in the meantime his
reputation for punctuality will be tarnished, and being in
close quarters, he may lose everything."

— " Is it very difficult for you to assist him?"

— '' To tell the truth, no. I have my check-book with
me ; I brouglit it to be ready for any er.iergency — to give
deposit on the purchase of a villa, if I find one to suit."

And he lauglied.

— '* You seem to be infected with a sympatliy for your
old admirer," added lie.

She also laughed. Slie was glad to see the face of her
liusband clear, but nodding her head in the negative, she
rej)lied :

" No I not sympathy for the admirer . . . but a hasty
egoism. T think that a few thousarids are not wortii
spoilinqf mv Stach's temper."

— " You're very kind, however," said Polanetzki, ])at-
ting liis wife's head. "In such case you decide; one,
two, three I to give?'*

But tlie young woman, like a spoiled child, closed her
eyes, which meatit the affirmative, and both became gay.
P(»lanet/,ki pretended to grtind)le :

'^ That's what it means to be under a wife's heel ! To

'•d I

473

go now at night and beg ALishko that he niiglit be so
good as to accept the check, because sucli is the wisli of a
spoiled child."

" Are you going at once ? "

*' Of course ! Mashko leaves for the city at eight in tlie
morning."

" Then order the sulky to be ready for you."

" No, it's not necessary. It is not far, and its very pleas-
ant walking in the moonlight. I shall make it on foot."

lie took tender leave of his wife, pocketed his check-
book and de[)arted.

" Marinya is too soft," tliought he. " She is such a dear
little creature that if a man intended to commit a crime,
the very tliought of her would stay his hand. Such wives
are rare in this world."

Absorbed in his thouohts he reached the villa of
Mashko, through the windows of v liich a light was seen,
that was reflected like a huge lantern on the dark back-
ground of the forest. Passing through the gate, into
the courtyaid, he espied through the window both Mashkos
— luisband and wife, sitting on a low sofa. Before the
sofa was a small table, holding a lamp. Mashko was
sitting, with one arm aiound his wife's waist, with the
other holding her hand, which lie pn.'ssed to iils lips,
as if he was thanking her; suddenly he embraced hvv,
drew her to his breast and began passionately to kiss her
lips, her eyes. She did not return these caiesses but sat
motionless and cold, like a form without fL\sh and blood.
At that moment in Polanetzki was Jiwakened all thesjiviige
instincts of a primitive man, who, at the sight of a woman
in the arms of another, is seized with a lit of violent rage,
is on the verge of attacking and slaying his rival. Witli
that desii'e was associated afeelinjj: of envv, so vnitamable,
that he who a moment aero reasoned that onlv an lionest
love for a woman constitutes tine ha]i])iness, would now
trample this very haj)pinoss under foot, would deprive
Mashko of it, and catch in his own arms that slcndei- hgnre,
and lavisli upon that cold, marble-like face, his violently
])assionate, fiery kisses.

Without giving the matter another thoucrht lie spiang
to the door and feverishly [)ulled the bell-rope. When

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474

tlio servant opened tlie door, lie requested to be annonnood.
and in the meantime tried to collect liis thoughts iind
rivet his [ittc^ntion on the obj(;ct of his eriand. In ;i
moment Mashkci came out, liis face betraying his fistonisli-
mcnt.

" Pardon my late call," said Polanetzki. " My \vif(!
grund)lcd at my refusid to ^lant your request, aiul I came
to arrange that matter, knowing that you will be leaving
early to-morrow morning."

" Come in, come in ! " replied he. " i\Iy wife has not
retircMl yet."

He led the way into the room, through the window of
which Polanet/ki saw them. Paiuii Mashko, silting in
the same position, held a ])aper-cutter and a book, \\hi(li
she appaiently had just taken fi-om the table. Her passive
face was calm, ])ut it bore the mark of recent kisses : the
lips weie moist, and the eyes misty. The blood fairly
boiled in Pohnietzki's veins, and in spite of all liis efforts to
preserve his calmness, he sfjueezed her hand with such
force, that she almost screamed witli })ain. 7\t the moment
he touched her hand a shiver ran through his body from
liead to heels.

'* We lH>lh have received a scoldino," becran Mashko,
*' you for refusing to do a favor, and I for asking it.
You liave a good wife, but mine is not bad. Your wife
defended mo, mine defended you. I disclosed to her my
embari'assment, and slie leproached me for not making a
clean bicast of it before. Naturally, she did not treat me
like a [)iosecuting attorney does a criminal, because she
lias no conceptiofi of his methods, but at the end she con-
cluded that vou were )-ii»ht in refusiufj me the assistance
re(piested. Siie further insisted, that if the creditors must
have their security, she was willing to give all she
possessed. At the very moment of your arrival I was
thanking her."

He put his hand on Polanetzki's shoulder :

'•" Do you know, my dear boy," he continued, '^ what I
am going to tell you ? 1 will iulmit that your wife is the
best woman in the world, on the condition that you will
agree that my wife is nota bit worse. If you knew licr, as
1 do, vou would not be surprised at this declaratiuii."

475

Polanetzki, not\vit]istaiuliii<^ liis mad desire to storm
and coiuiuer the heart of Paiiiii Mashko, did not hidieve
her eapable of making self-sacriliees, moreover, of being
guilty of noble eonee[)tions, and in view of this n)nsed:
" She is either .i good, honest woman, after all, and I am
sorely mistaken, or Mashko deeeives lier into believing liis
(Mubarrassment temporary, and her position brilliant." And
lie said aloud :

'* I am a very punetual man in business, but how ean
you su[>[)ose for a moment that I would demand your
property or security ? I refused more from sheer lazint!ss.
1 hate to go to Warsaw for the money. In summer people
generally beeome lazy and egoistical. . . . It's a trille, and
to people like your husband, always busy with his legal
matters, it can hap[)en every day. Very often men must
borrow various sums merely because they could not get
their own money back in time."

'' That's just what happened to me ! " siiid Mashko, de-
liglited that Polanetzki put the matter in such a light
before his wife.

"■ I never dabble in business, and therefore know very
little of it," replied she, " at all events, pray accept my
thanks."

Polanetzki laughed and added :

*' At least, of what use would your indorsement be to
me? Let's imagine, for argument's sake, that you aio
bankrupt, we can safely imagine it, because you are not
in danger of it. Can you picture youiself being the de-
fendant in a suit wherein the plaintilT wo»ld strive to rob
yoti of your income?"

— 'VNo," replied the young woman.

Polanetzki kissed her hand in true gallant fashion, ])ut
in that act there was so nuu'h passion that no confession
uttered in words could jiave imi)arted more of his feel-
ings. She did not wish to betray her insight in the matter,
hut she understood very well that the favor was done her
husband, but the passion of the kiss was meant for herself.
She long ago had made the startling discovery that Polan-
etzki was infatuated with her, that he was excited in her
jiresence, but l)eing neither too (hdicate nor honest, she
did not feel insulted. If anything, it pleased iier vanity

47(1

J '■

! ...t-

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to a very great extent. It excited lier curiosity and satis-
fied lier sluillowness. True, her instinct warned her that
it was a })()ld insolent man who couhl go too far, and thi.s
tliought filled lier with horror, but since tliis had not oc-
curred, the very horror was not devoid of a certain iliai ni
for her.

— '' Mamna always spoke of you as of a man who could
be trusted," said she.

" I hope you share your mother's opinion about me,''
r;,i)lied Polanetzki.

"Well, you may exchange your little confidences," jok-
ingly interposed Mashko. " 1 will go into my room, pre-
pare all necessary |)ai)ers, and m e'll settle the matter."

Polanetzki and Panni Mashko were left alone. For a
moment a shadow of embarrassment and confusion over-
cast her placid face, and she tried to conceal it, adjusting
the shade of the lamp, while he drew nearer and began
excitedly :

"I will be very happy, if }ou share your mother's
opinion of me. I am very much devoted to you and v/ould
like to enjoy your friendship. May I count upon it ? "

" Yes."

" Thank you."

He extended his hand, she did not dare to refuse it.
He took her hand in his, and not only kissed it, but
seemed to be ready to swallow her entirely. His eyes
grew dim. Another moment, and he would press to his
heart the long coveted being, but in tlie adjoining room
were heard the approaching stei)s of Mashko.

" My husband is coming," she quickly muttered.

The door opened, and Alashko said :

" Come, follow me, Polanetzki. And you," — turninir
to his wife — "order tea to be served; we shall not he
away long."

The transaction took very little time. Polanetzki signed
a check, and it was all over, but Mashko, offering him a
cigar, asked him to sit down, as he wished to have a
chat.

"Again I am over head in trouble," said he, " but I
■will find a way out. Until lately I had })usiness with
lai'ge creditors only. Now I must see that the sun dries

477

the (lew, and funiislios mo v. illi a new sonice of credit or
a new income to lielp me bring the work to a successful

l*ohine(/.ki, indignant at liis pretensions, carelessly lis-
tened to liis words, and impatiently bit his cigar. Sud-
(I(Mily it mean, hasty thoughi tlasluul through his mind: If
MasJdvo is ruined, his wile would be an easy prey. He
in([iiir(Hl dryly :

'• Have you tliought of what you are going to do in case
you l((Se your case?"

— " I will not lose it," leplied Mashko.

'" Kvtnything is [)ossible, you know it very well."

"• I do not want to think o/ it."

^' But you must. In that case, what are you going to
do?"

Masldvo put his hands on his knees, and fixing his
gaze on the tloor, replied gloomily:

*' In that event I will be compelled to bid farewell to
Warsaw."

A moment of silence ensued. The face of the lawyer
became dark and cloudy, he reflected, and linally said:
"Some time ago I made the acquaintance of Baron Hirsch.
We met frequently and once participated in an affair of
honor. At times, when doubts get the best of me, I think
ol him : to all appearances he retired from active opera-
tions, but he has many affairs on hand, especially in the
East. I know peo[)le tlnit have amassed fortunes work-
ing under him, because there is a wide field open for
every one in his employ."

"So you intend to appeal to him?"

— " Ves, but I can idso blow my brains out."

But Polanetzki did not hear that eaiiiest threat. From
the conversation he gleaned the following facts: that
Mashko, in spite of his self-confidence, feared a possible
crash, and that he had a plan ready for that emergency;
a visionary one peih;ips. Hefore joining Ids wife Mashko
thanked Polanetzki once more and both entered the parlor
where tea awaited them.

— "Well, have you finished your business?" asked
Panni Mashko.

Polanetzki, again impressed by her appearance and with

478

lier wonfs : "My husband i.s cominpr," still ringing in liis
ears, said, piiyiiig no attention to Masliko:

*' Ik'tween myself and your liuslxmd everything is
settled, between you and nie, nothing as yet."

Panni Mashko, not withstanding her coldness, became
visibly confused and almost frightened at liis boldness.

" lb)W is tliat?" queried Mashko.

*' Your wife presumed that I am capable of demandin^^
security in tlie shape of her [Jioperty, and 1 cannot forgixc
her this, inider any consideration."

The young woman looked up at him and actually
showed suri>rise. She was evidently interested by his
audacity and the wit which he employed to give his words
a proper turn.

'' I beg your pardon," said she, slowly.

" No, this won't do ; you don't know what a revengeful
man I am."

" I do not believe you," said she, with a hint at coquet-
ry, like a woman who was sure of herself and knew the
influence of her beauty.

Polanetzki sat down at her right, and taking with un-
steady hand the cup of tea offered to him, began to sip
slowly. Again he recalled the woi-ds : " My husband is
coming," and his heart was almost bleeding at the thought
that these words could only escape the lips of a womiui
prepared for the worst. At the same time some inner
voice whispered to him that it was all " a matter of chance."
At this thought his dissipated desires became a dissipated
joy — and he lost control over himself. In a moment he
becfan to feel under the table for her foot with his own,
but it occurred to him that this was impertinent and rude.
At last he calmed himself by the logical assurance that
if it was oidy a question of time one ought to know how-
to be patient. He did not do\d)t that: " the time and
chance " would come sooner or late^'. and in his own con-
vulsive shuddering and feverish trembling he saw the
prospects of future rapture. It was a torture to him in
the meantime to support a conversation that did not
harmonize with his feelings. lie considered Mashko's in-
terrogations about Zavilovski and his plans for the future,
his financial status andsimihir subjects, tedioJiS and annoy-

fe^

^:i

479

•-f>

ing.

At liist lie rose, and before taking leave, turnt'd h>
Masliko :

*' I'K'itse lend me your cane. On the way here I was
attaeked by dogs, and I have no weapon of any kind
With me.

It was a falsehood. No dogs attacked him ; he t^imply
wished to i>e left ahme for a moment with tiie hiwyei's
wife, and when her husband went into the adjoining looni,
he (quickly approached her^and said in a dnll, eold voice:

- " Do you see what's taking [)laee within me?"

Of course she noticed his agitatioji, his eyes gleannng
with passion and his dilated nostrils, and suddenly she
was overcome with alarm and teiior. l>nt he iemend)ere<i
her words ''My husband is coming," and determined:
''Let come what must come!" And tliis man, who a
minute before, just as logically resolved that he ought to
know how to wait patiently, now jisked everything on
one card and whispered hoarsel}^ :

" I love you I "

She stood before liim witli drooping eyes, as if stupefied,
or transformed into a marble column. These words were
the key to her i)erfidy, which in turn o[)ened a new epoch
in her life, and she only turned away her head to evade
his glance. Deep silence reigned. Only his liard breatli-
in^ was distinctly heard. Suddeidy the scjueaking of
Mashko's boots was heard, and Polanetzki whispered

again :

"Till to-morrow!"

In this "till to-morrow" there was an imiierative, com-
manding tone, but she stood still, cold, unmoved, with her
eyes on the floor.

" There is the cane for you ! " said Mashko reentering the
room. '^ I am going to the city early to-mono w morning,
and will return late at night, won't you b(; kind enougli
lo call U])on my fair 'desert-lady' if the wea'her is
pheasant? "

" Good night," Polanetzki (;ut liim short, and went home.

He was soon on the deseited road, gleaming in tlie
moonlight. It seemed to him that he just escaped a
roaring, flaming furnace. The stillness of the night
presented such a contrast to his own agitated mind that

480

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t;i'i'-j'

he was soon impressed hy it, and his first impression was
the feeling that his strii<]^gle and liesitation were eiid('(l.
An inner voiee upbraided liiiii, tliat lie was a niiserablv
small man, and in tliis very thought theie was the relit f
ot" despair. He said to himself, that if he eannot resist
temptation, then "" tlie devil take it all.*' A *' small man."
at least, need not struggle with his conscience, and he's ;ii
peace with himself. It's done ! The bridges are burniiK
he cainiot turn l)ack. lie will betray Marinya, rcpulsL-
lier heart, her purity, her principles on which he built iIk;
structure of his life, but he will be the master of Paniii
Mashko. Thei'e remained the alternative : either she will
confess to her husband, and a duel will follow, or she will
be silent, and then become his ally and associate in the
crime. Mashko leaves town to-morrow, he will have tli(3
prey in his clutches, — and then come what may! He
was not blind. He did not try to justify himself. He
knew that he was not better than other corrupt immoral
men. On the contrary, he was inferior to those who sunk
in the mire of adulter}- and depravity knee-deep, did not
deceive themselves, did not idealize nor pi'escribe laws to
otliers. He scarcely believed himself, that he was the
same man who in the days gone by worsliiped Panni
Chavastovska, sincerely pledged Marinya his faithfulness,
and deemed himself a man of character and moral sense.

But this unmerciful flaying of himself was a deception,
an illusion, resulting from lack of exi)erience ; if he loved
Emilya with an ideal love, if he resisted the advances of
Panni Osnovski, it was only because these women did
not arou.se in him those animal })a.ssions, which flared up
and stormed in his breast at the very sight of this doll
with red eyes, whom his soul abhorred, to wdiom his
thoughts flew day and night. He now thought with
horror that his feelings for Marinya had never been j)uii'.
but were also, after all, mere animal play of passion.
Custom and time dulled his nerves, and therefore encour-
aged or rather lepidsed by Marinya's ])resent condition he
turned whither he could, without an effort to control him-
self, without conscience, six months after his wedding.

Coming to his house he noticed that in the room of
Marinya a lamp was still burning. He would have given

481

murli to have found her asleep, and he almost deeided to
walk I'mtlieron until the liufht in hcriooni had disa))})eai('d.
Uut suddenly lie saw lier shadow. Evidently .die had
been waiting for him, and as the moon was high and shin-
ing brightly, she must have notieed him.

lie went in. She nu't him clad in a white blouse, her
tresses falling over her slioulders. In this theie was ji cer-
tain coquetry. She knew they were beautiful, that he
loved to play with them.

*• Why are you awake yet?" asked he on entering.

*' I waited for you to pray together before retiring,"
replied she, dniwing nearer to him, seemingly sleepy, but
smiling. Since their leturn from Rome they always
prayed together at bedtime, but now this thought sickened
him.

** Well, my Staoli, are yt u glad that you helped Mashko
— are you not, now ? Speak uj) ! "

•■' Yes," drawled out Polanetzki.

*' And his wife — does she know of his condition ? "

" She does and she does not . . , It's late ... let us re-
tire."

"Good night. Do you know what I was thinking of in
your absence ? That you are such a kind, considerate
man ! "

And she embraced him tenderl3\ He kissed her with
the feeling that he had a right to that kiss, and the assur-
ance of his own depravity, and of a long line of other
rascalities which were in store for him in the future.

The following morning he awoke utterly exhausted and
almost ill. He felt dissatislied and chagrined at himself.
By the light of a cloudy day, the whole affair assumed a
different aspect ; his future did not look so dark and
threatening, or his crime so black ; everything took a dim-
inutive form in his eyes. Now he began to ponder the
(juestion, whether Panni Mashko had confessed to her
husband or not. At times he admitted that she had, and
at the thought he felt like a man who was suddeidy pre-
cipitated into a dee)^ hole — '' a foolish, stupid })Osition to be
in," mused he. " One can blame Mashko for everything,
but one cannot accuse him of being either a weakling or a
coward, and it's doubtful whether he will leave such au

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482

insult pfo nn|)Uiiislj(Ml. This means un explanjition, a
sciindal, and i)iobal)ly a duel. The duvil take it all I
What a disa^n-t'cahlu alTair, especially if it reaches the ears
of Maiinya I " He innnedialely felt at war with the
whole world. He had always been calm, tran(|nil, nevi-r
liad a care, had no disai^reement with anyixxly, and to-
day

ce an o

woman, ne sa

it ll

lere yu ess hilt

said — or she did not," and could think of nothing else

siiu'e morninir.

It ihially came to the point tliat lie put the question to
himself: *^ Am 1 really afraid of Mashko?" He was not
afraid of MashUo, but of Marinya. 'i'his was also sojnethiiiL^
new and stranije to him. Two days previously he would
have ai^reed to almost anything', rathei' than to the asser-
tion that he would ever be afraid of her. At times, again,
he consoled himself with the hope that Panni Masiiko
Avould be silent, and then again the hope vanished, and he
felt that he did not dare to gaze into Alarinya's eyes, that

he would be afraid, too, of l>iL'"el, Bii-er

ife, P

iinm

Chavastovska, Zaviloski, — in a word, all his friends.

— "• This is what one false step costs — and how much
blood has been s[)oiled ! "

At last his alarm increased with such ra])idity that,
under the pretense of sending back the cane to Mashko,
he des[)atched a servant with instructions to give Panni
Mashko his regards and inquire about her health. Half
an hour later the messenger returned. He had a letter
for Marinya from Panni Mashko. While Marinya was
perusing its contents, his heart was beating violently.

Marinya read the letter, looked calmly at her husband,
and said :

'*• Panni Mashko invites us to tea this afternoon, also
the P>i<!eh

»>

'' Ah-al" he could oidy reply, drawing a deep breath,
and thought : "• She did not say a word."

'^ Shall we go?"

— ••' As you i)lease, darling. You may go with the
Bigels. I nuist be in the city after dinner ... I promised
to meet Svirski there. Perhaps I will bring him along
with me."

Then I might as well decline the invitation

t »«

4^3

— "Xo, ^o witli the l>iL;t.'ls. I will go In aiul exctiso
myself . . . or you c.iii do ii. !»>»• inc."

And lit' went Jiwiij-. He Wiinted to be left jilone with
liis thonylits.

'•She did not sfiy. Slie did not confess I' was his first
tlionc,dit, and he felt relieved. " She did not sa}' a word,
did not take otTeiise, hut invit(.Ml nie to eome. She eoi'-
sents to eveiythinjj. I'm williiejf to <2() farther. She will
h't herself be led, where it will please me . . . II(jw else
should I explain this invitation, if not as a reassuring re-
ply to my * till to-monow !' It all depends u[)on me now!"

He was seized by a sensation of trininph and gratified
vanity. But, analyzing Panni ?»Iashko, he mentally
apologized to her that he dared to doubt her, and Ixdieved
her an honest woman. Now, at least, he knt;w what to
thiidv of her, and he laughed heartily at his fears, at his
alarm.

Thus, for the first time, he confessed his contempt for
lier whom lie struggled to j)ossess ; she ceased to l)e in-
accessible, an object for which one is in a constant tight
between hope and fear. She now belonged to him, a
thing he desired, but did not vaUuj. At this moment, when
the door was wide open for his assistance, he noticed with
amazement that oi)position arose w ithin himself, he lemem-
bered Marinya, her condition, a future mother of hiit
child, he remembei-ed the ])eaceful happiness he could
enjoy at her side. He decided to go to tiie city and avoid
seeinjr Painii Mashko that dav. In the afternoon lie
ordered the servant to harness his favorite maie to Bicrel's
light carriage, and taking leave of ^larinya, went away.
His sour dis[)osition disappearing, he became of meriy
mood once more, and regained his old conlid(!nce in him-
self. He was elated to think of Panni Mashko's surprise
at his absence. He felt a necessity for revenge for that
merely physical im[)ression she ])roduced upon hiniT
From the moment he read her invitation, his contempt
for her increased.

— '' What if I would call upon lier now and give my
words of last night a difft-rent meaning ! No I one ought
not to be a scoundrel toward himself, at least."

However, he was convinced that if she s: him passing

> .1

I/"-..

I*!

by without going in, she would think him uncouth, — an
unpolished peasant.

But, strangely ! he was suddenly seized by a fear and
tlie same voice that called him last night '* a miserably
small man," now repeated to him with doubled energy the
very same words.

'* No, i will not see her," remonstrated Polanetzki with
liimself — " to understand oneself aFHl to control oneself,
— are two difi'erent things."

From a distance he could see the villa of Kraslovska,
Panni Mashko*s motlier. Gazing at its vague outlines, it
occurred to him that Panni Mashko, on the spur of the
moment, being piqued and irritated, might drop a word or
two to his wife, which would open the hitter's eyes. She
could do it with a word, with a smile, with a glance, giving
her to understand tliat liis insolent hopes met defeat at
the strong wall of a woman's purity, and thus w'ill his
absence be explained. Women seldom deny themselves
such pleasing trifles, and still seldom show mercy to their
rivals.

" Ah ! If I only dared call upon her, and "

At this moment his carriage was on a level with the
pavement of Panni Mashko's villa.

'* Halt ! " he commanded the driver.

He espied on the veranda Panni Mashko, who, however,
ran back into the room at tlie sight of him. Polanetzki
passed the courtyard. He was met by a servant.

" My lady is up-stairs," said he.

Polanetzki feH that his legs were trembling when lie
readied the second floor. The thought flashed through
his mind :

*' Whoever thinks life a toy, can do with it whatever
he pleases. If I, after all I felt, knew and reflected,
could not be my own master, 1 would be the last of
men." And he stopped before the door the servant
pointed out to him.

" May I?" asked he.

*♦ Come in ! "

And he found liimself in the boudoir of Panni
Mashko.

" I came in," baid he giving her his hand, " to tell you

485

that I cannot possibly be licio this evening. I must be
in the city."

Panni Masliko stood with lowered head and eyes.
Apparently she was lost, filled "with terror. In her fip;^ure
and in the expression of her face there '.vas something
that reminded one of a victim that sees the hand uplifted
to strike and knows that its fate is decided.

The same sensation was transmitted to Polanotzki, and
quickly, coming closer to her, lie grasped her hand and
asked in a hoarse voice :

" You are afraid ! What are you afraid of ? " . . .

■'^'■^

4B6

} ■■

Vit-

-fl*,"

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The next morning Panni Polanetzki received from lier
husband a letter in which he informed her that he would
not return that day from Warsaw, as he was going to
inspect a vilUi on the other side of the city. He retunicil
the next day with Svirski, wlio liad promised to visit tlium
with the Bisrels ^it tlieir summer villa.

** Just imagine!" said Polanetzki after greeting lii.s
wife. " The hamlet Buchinok which I inspected yesterday
is a stone's throw from Jasminovka — the estate of old
Zavilovski. When I learned of this I called upon the old
gentleman, who is under the weather, sick with the gout,
and found Svirski there. I took him along to inspect
Buchinok. He likes the house. There is a good garden,
a large yard and a small stretch of forest, in former years
it was a part of a large estate, but the land wao sold, and
but little is left with the mansion.

" Yes, a very handsome residence," confirmed Svirski.
" Plenty of shade, air and repose."

" Will you buy it ? " asked Marinya.

" Perhaps. In the meantime I should like to rent it,
we could speud there the rest of the summer and convince
ourselves of its real worth. The owner is willing to lease
it. I wished to close the bargain right then and there, but
did not know whether you would like it."

Marinya was sorry to lose the society of the Bigels for
the rest of the summer, but seeing that her liusbr.nd looked
at her intently, she took for granted that he had reasons
to live apart from them and expressed her consent. The
Bigels protested, but had to yield.

" To-morrow," declared Polanetzki, " 1 will rent tlio
villa, will remove our household effects from Warsaw,
and after the morrow shall see us in our ne^^ dwelling."

my VI!
his re'

487

— " You seem to want to run away from us,"8aid Panni
Bigel.

• Why are you in such liasle?" asked lier husband.

" You know that I brook no dehiys," hiughingly said
Pohinetzki.

In the meantime dinner was announced, during which
Svirski rehited how he came to be in Jasminovka willi
old Zavilovski.

'' Helene wanted me to ])a:nt her fatlier's portrait and
exj)ressed lier wish that I shoukl do tlie work in Jiismin-
ovka. I went there, because I feel lonely when not at
work. J^esides the old man is sucli an original character.
But my work did :;ot fare very well. The walls of their
house are too thick, which makes the rooms dark. I could
not draw. Besides, my model became sick with the gout.
The pliysician whom we brought to the village told us
that his heahli is very poor, that in fact, the worst might
be expected."

" I am very sorry for Zavdovski," said Marinya.

" He's such a nice man. Poor Helene ! In case of his
death she'll be left all alone. Is he conscious of his real
condition? "

*' Hardly. He's an original. Ask your husband to tell
you how he received him."

— *•• When I came to Jasminovka, Helene brought me to
her father. He was saying his pra3'ers, and did not even
bow to me. I waited. At last he finished his prayers
and turned to me : ' Thiid<ing of heaven, I cannot at the
same time think of piivate matters,' said he ; — 'I am an
old man, and reason in my own fashion.'"

'^ What a type I " exclaimed Svirski.

— " Then he hinted to me tliat it was time for him to
make his will," continued Polanetzki, " but I did not
iin;ree with him, as is usually done in such cases. I also
thought of Ignati. We spoke of him, by the way. The
old man took a great liking to the poet."

— *' Yes," exclaimed Svirski — " as soon as he learned of
niy visit to Pritulovo he began at once to question about
his relative."

" Then you were in Pritulovo ?" inquired Marinya.

— " Yes, four happy days. I dearly love Osnovski."

4,1

■'SI

i!f

488

'■hi

[;' n

" And Panni Osnovski ? "

— "• I have ill Rome already given you my opinion of
the hidy, and as far as I remember gave my tongue too
much license."

— " Yes, I remember it. You were very discourteous. . . .
Well, how does the young couple get along ? "

— "Quite happily. A certain Paniia Ratkovska is
there. A charming little girl : — I almost fell in love with
her."

" So ! Stanislav told me that you are so easily smitten
you are in love riglit along."

— " Yes, absolutely. I love all women, and independ-
ently, too."

'' This is the best w.iy never to marry," said Bigel witli a
serious manner.

*' Unfortunately it's so," agreed Svirski, and turning to
^larinya, said : '* I presume tliat Stanislav repeated to you
our recent conversation. What do you say ? If you say
— marry, I will marry! This was the agreement be-
tween your husband and myself. I wish you could see
tliat Panna Ratkovska. She is called Stephanie — which
stands for * adored.' A beautiful name, is it not ? She
is so meek and timid, is in mortal fear of Panni Osnovski
and Castelli, but withal, aj^jparently, a very genei'ous soul.
She is courted by that handsome dandy Kopovski, but slie
is not a bit enthusiastic about him, as are tlie otlier
ladies, who paint his portrait, invent for him various cos-
tumes, and almost carry liim around in their arms. She
told me herself that Kopovski bores her, because he's as
stupid as a cork."

— "Kopovski, as I heard," interposed Bigel, " is out
for money, and Panna Ratkovska is not rich. I know-
that her father left unpaid deljts amounting to "

" What's that to us?" interrupted Panni Bigel.

— " True, we really don't care a straw for it. — But how
does she look, that Panna Ratkovska?"

— "She's not prett3% but very nice, with a pale face and
dark eyes. You will see her, for the ladies plan to visit
you. I encouraged tliem in this intention, because I
wanted you to see her."

" Very well," replied Marinya with a laugh — " I shall

489

see her and pronounce my verdict. But what it shall be
— I know not."

— '* At any rate I shall propose, and if jilted, I will go
away duck-shooting. At the end of June this sport is
available."

" Oh, this is a serious question ! " exclaimed Panni
Bigel, " a wife or a duck I Zavilovski would not be guilty
of saying this."

*' What's the use of discussing and arguing wlien you
are in love ? " wisely remarked Marinya.

— '''' You are right, and I am consumed by envy — not
Castelli — oh, no, though I was once fascinated by her, but
I envy that condition, when one does no longer reason."

— '* What liave you against Castelli ? "

'* Absolutely nothing, except sincere gratitude. Thanks
to her I experienced in my time a good deal of self-de-
ception. Tlierefore I will never say anything bad al)out
lier. Unless a word escapes my lii)s now and then against
my own will. Therefore don't 2)ull my tongue, pray.'*

" On the contrary you must tell us everything, but not
before we c^o out on the veranda : it's much nicer there."

All left the dining room for tlie veranda. Bigel's chil-
dren scattered over the garden and among tlie trees like so
many butterflies. Bigel treated Svirski to cigars. Ma-
rinya approac led her liusband standing aside, and looking
at him with lier kindly eyes, asked :

— *' Why are you so silent ? "

— ** I am tired," replied he. *' It's hot and close in town,
but it's still hotter liere. Besides, the whole of last night
I could not sleep thinking of Bnehinok."

— " I am very glad that you rented the place, and would
like to see it soon."

But seeing tliat he was glum, she added:

*' We will entertain Svirski here, and you lie down for
a short rest."

'' No, it's useless — I cannot sleep."

"Now tell us more of Ignati Zavilovski," Panni Bigel
accosted Svirski.

"I like Zavilovski. Thei'e is a certain harmony in
everything lie says and does. I liad the opportunity to
become intimately acquainted with him during these Ust

mMk

■^ i«i-i

I'm,

1 Mi'
■ 'j<

ill

'II
•■•p

i^^'

490

few (lays in Pritulovo, and we became fast friends. Os-
novski also thinks the woild of liini. I spoke to him and
to Osnovski very frankly, and I am afraid that Ignati will
not be happy with these ladies."

— "- And wliy not ? " asked iNIarinya.

" It's hard to say why, since there are no facts at hand.
But it's felt somehow; they are i)eculiar natures. . .. You
see, all loftv ambitions and views that to Zavilovski are tlic
soul of his life, serve to the fancy of these ladies the oHice
of lace sewed on the seams of the dresses in which thev
receive visitors ; at all other times they parade in wrappers
or Mother Ilubbards, — and this makes a great difference.
I am afraid tliat tliev, instead of soaring with him in tlie
blue space, would demand his coming down to their low
level, to walk in their steps, that, in short, they would
change in small coin the best, the noblest lie possesses for
the gratification of their common wants and caprices.
However, that chap has something in him ! I do not ex-
pect a catastrophe, but they might be unhappy. In a
word I may sum up — you know Zavil(fvski, — he is a very
plain man, and in my opinion in his love for Castelli is his
all. He puts into it his whole soul, and she only a part
of hers ; the restshe retains for varioaa other amusements,
in short for that millstone, in which our whole life is
ground into dust."

— " Yes, one can expect this from Castelli, and if you
are mistaken, the better for Zavilovski, but generally,
you said it very cleverly."

" No, first of all it is not honest you seem to be indeed,
a woman-hater."

— " I — a woman-hater ! " exclaimed Svirski raising his
hands to heaven.

— " Don't you see that you make of Castelli a doll-like
creature ? "

— " I only gave her lessons in painting, but otherwise
had nothing to do with her general education."

— '' Really, it's so strange that such a kind man should
have such an evil tongue ! " said Marinya, threatening
him with her finger.

— " In this you are partly right. I am conscious of it
myself and often q^uestion myself whether I am really kind

491

or not. But I think I am. There are people who con-
demn their fellow-creatures for the sake of wallowing in
the mire — and this is hideous ; others are prompted by
envy — and this is mean. ... A Bukatzski did it for the
sake of cracking a good joke, but I. . . . I am above all
a chatterbox, and then a man, and woman interests me
more than anything else ; — smallness and shallowness of
human natuie irritate me. I should like to see all women
have wings, but noticing that a good many of them have
oidy tails, I raise my voice at them from sheer astonish-
ment."

— " But why don't you use the same tactics toward the
men?"

— *' What do I care about them ? Besides, speaking
seriously, we are worth more than our fair sisters."

This was a signal for a ilerce attack b}' both ladies. The
luifortunate artist defended himself bravely and continued :
"Take as an illustration Zavilovski and Castelli. Since
childhood's early days )al has toiled and labored, came
across many iui[)leasant things, kei)t his brains in motion,
did something for himself, something for the world. And
she? A real canary bird in a oage ! Give her water,
sugar and bird seed — she will eat and drink her till, rufile
her feathers with her bill, and sincf soncfs. Is this not a
plain truth? Yes, we are constantly laboring! Civiliza-
tion, science, art, bread and everything on which this world
is based — is the work of our brain. And what a fabulous
work it is ! It's easily said, but not so easily done. Of
course I will not say that, justly or unjustly, you are barred
from it, but generally speaking — your lot in life is only
to love, know how to love, then."

And his dark face assumed an expression of great ten-
derness, and even melancholy. He continued:

" For instance, I am devoting my time and lal)or to nrt.
Twenty years I painted and daubed and smeared on paper
and on canvas, and Ood alone knows how much of both I
})ainted until I reached a certain height in my profession,
and yet I feel absolutely lonety. And mind you, I don't
want very much, eitlier. Only some honest woman, who
would love me a little bit and be grateful for my love."

— " Then, why don't you get married ? "

t. '^ ■

i ' ~' '

T'>. .'if"

7¥

■?Pi,-

492

- — "Because I am afraid," exploded Svirski ; "because
out of ten women, only one can love."

The conversation liere was interrupted by the arrival of
Plavitska with Panni Masliko. The latter was dressed in
a light blue garment with large buttons, and from a dis-
tance looked like a multi-colored butterfly. Coming u[)
to tlie veranda, Plavitska said :

" Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, good evening,
Marinya ! I captured Panni Mashko and brought licr
here. I came here in a hired liansom. Suddenly I espied
Panni Mashko standing on lier veranda. I dismissed tlie
driver, and we came here on foot."

They all greeted tlie young woman, who, flushed from
her long walk, was taking off her hat and telling them
how she was "captured" by Pan Plavitska. She awaited
lier husband, and did not care to leave the house. Pan
Plavitska reassured her that in the country no one would
think of gossiping or clinging to etiquette.

He pulled his vest with the giimace of an old man who
dreamed that he could still be gossiped about in connec-
tion with fair women, then looked roguishly at Panni
Mashko and rubbed his liands.

" Yes, the country has its own rules. . . . Yes, its own
rules ... I like nothing better than the country."

— " If you like the country, why don't you leave
town ? "

— " Because in the city there is always shade on one
side of the streer, and the sun on the other. If I am cold
I walk on the sunny side, if I am perspiring, on the shady.

I wanted to go to Carlsbad, but " He paused, then

added : " But is it wortli while worrying over two or
three years of life left to me?"

" There you are again, papa ! " gaily exclaimed Marinya.
" If you don't go to Carlsbad, you will drink Milbrun
waters with us at Buchinok."

" At Buchinok ? "

" Oh, yes, you don't know yet our grand news?"

And she began to relate to her father that they had
rented Buchinok, that they will ultimately buy it, that
within two days they will be installed on the premises.
Panni Mashko looked with astonishment at Polanetzki.

nice,
beli(

/?\,

493

*' Are you really going to desert us?" she asked.

— " Yes," replied Polanetzki.

— *' Ah ! " was all Paiiiii Masliko uttered, but she gazed
at him with the glance of a pei-son who does not conipre-
liend and inquires : '" What does it mean ? " And, receiv-
ing no reply, slie turned to ]\Iarinya and began to speak
to lier. She was familiar with, tlie forms and laws of
etiquette, and Polan tzki alone knew how the news of
Buchinok affected lier.

— " How she must despise me," thought he.

But neither of them knew that contempt is only a
question of time. Nevertheless, the young woman
thouglit of it as a temporary ca[)rice of a dreamer. She
looked upon it as an insult she could not very well ex-
plain. One word of his, said in good humor, and at tlie
right time and place, could atone for the wrong. Believ-
ing that Polanetzki was eager to explain himself, she de-
cided to accord him that pleasure. When, after tea, she
was about to return home, slie said, looking at Polanetzki:
" Maybe, some of you gentlemen will have the goodness
to see me home?"

Polanetzki rose. His worn-out, angry countenance
looked as if he would say: "If you want to hear the
truth from me, you shall hear it." But Bigel unexpect-
edly came between them by saying: *' The evening is so
nice, we will all accompany you to your villa." Plavitska,
believing himself Panni Mashko's knight for the even-
ing, gave her his arm, and the entire way to the villa
engaged her in conversation, so she could not say a word
to Polanetzki, except "good night" at the gates of her
house. This was accomj^anied by a shaking of hands,
into which she put a hidden significance. It, however,
remained unanswered.

Polanetzki was glad that he was not required to make
any explanations. He concluded that to remain in Bigel's
villa was a dangerous play with fire, and he leased Buchi-
nok only because all strong natures, when pressed to the
wall, instinctively take measures for their defense, though
their actions had' no close connection with what actually
pains them. He did not think that his flight meant the
return to the straight path, or at least leads to it. It

I-

I .:

494

•VJr

(•: ■:

^t'.

seemed to him that it was too late, that now everytliinrj
was lost. Having i)roveii false to Mariiiya, he now l)c-
trayed Paniii Mashko. This was a now rascality wliich
he owned up to in despair, heing convinced tliat witli jiU
liis efforts lie will surely sink into tlie dark and driaiy
abyss. After bidding good-by to Panni Mashko, the
entire company returned home. ]\Iarinya walked besidr
her husband, who was pensive, and Marinya, believii'!
that he was pondering over the purcliase of Buchinok, did
not molest him. They all remained on tlie vernnda.
Bigel made efforts to detain Svirski for the night, niakini,^
fun of liis herculean form squeezed into Plavitzka's smail
sulky, together with its owner.

'* Remain here," urged he; " to-morrow morning I lun
going to the city myself and will take you along in my cart.'"

" I wish to begin, work to-morrow morning early. If I
remain another delay will ensue."

" Why, is it such a timely order ? "

'* No, but my hand becomes heavy. Painting is likt;
music, it demands constant exei'cise. I lost a good deal of
time in going to Pritulovo, and visiting you,— meanwhile,
the colors are becoming dry."

Panni Polanetzki laughed, and looking in the direction
of Svirski's hand said : " You are complaining in vain.
It is not only artists who must always go foiwaid and
never halt. Whether one works over a painting or over
himself, he must go ahead, every hour, every minute, or
he runs the risk of being left behind."

— " Yes, we must all work very hard ! " sighed Plavitska.

Marinya paid no attention, but raising her eyes as if
looking for comparisons, continued :

** You see, whoever said to himself that he is sufficiently
good and clever, this very saying of his is neither good
nor clever. It seems to me, as if we are swimming on a
stormy sea, trying to reach the shore, and whoever folds
his hands for a minute, goes to the bottom owing to his
own weight."

*' Bosh ! Phrases I " interposed Polanetzki.

" No, Stach. These are not phrases ! " protested his wife.

*' God grant that all may speak thus," said Svirski after
a pause. " You are absolutely right."

495

CHAPTER XXXIV.

" Oh, my dearest, wliy don't you dress, like Kopovski,'*
said Paiini Bronich to Zavilovski. " Of course, Linetti
values more your poetry than any costly garment, but you
will not believe wliat an esthetic soul she is ! Yesterday
she came up to me and asked with such a })retty manner:
* Auntie, why has not Ignati a white flannel suit for morn-
ing wear ? ' O.snovski has one, and you'd better get one
yourself. I know it's a trifle, but women desire that men
should satisfy tlieir caprices in small tilings. She is very
observant. In Sheveningen all men parade in those
white suits till noon, and it would shock her to have
people think you don't belong to good society. You ai'e
so kind, and will do it for my sake. I hope you are not
angry, for my interfering in the matter."

" On the contraiy — with great pleasure."

'* Oil, what a good kind man you are. . . Yes. What
did I wish to say ! . . . Buy yourself a dress-suit case.
Linetti is very fond of those traveling bags the men carry
on their journeys. Pardon my intrusion, but it's a trifle,
you see. I know women well, especially my Linetti. She
wants to be pleased even in trifles. As to great things, she
can always resign herself to her fate. You heard what
grand matches she could have made, but she chose you.
You, as a psychologist, ought to have observed that such
natures are capable of Ijiinging great sacrifices, but they
control themselves for extraordinary exce[)tional occasions,
but in everyday life they want to be pleased and [)etted."

Zavilovski took his notebook from hi: pocket and said:
"I must put down all your suggestions or else I might
forget them."

In this reply there was a shade of irony, but Panni Bro-
nich often abused his patience, especially with her fond-

49r,

11. a

i:' ^

^^A

ness for tlie outer polisli. It divulged the " parvenu"
nature. Hut loving Linetti, and" feeling liiniself, thanks
to this h)ve, a l)etter man, he thought kindly of tluj old
woman, and reasoned that a human heing, sineerely attachtMl
to another, ejinnot be very bad, and in the name of that
common, love he forgave her lier defects.

However, in Linetti he could find nothing detrimental
to her charms that captured liis love. The loftier souls of
men make blun(U;rs only because theyciown the women of
their choice with their Jialo, not comprehending that the
glinnner of light that shone U})on them, belonged to them-
selves. Thus it was ever with Zavilovski. Linetti be-
came accustomed more and more to her role of betrothed,
and the thought that he selected her, ])referrcd her to
others, that he was infatuated with her, lost its origiiud
charm and value. All she could possibly gain from it for
lier own glorification, she obtained with the aid of her
*' sweet auntie." Once they came in their i)romenades upon
a damp meadow, and Zavilovski leturned hastily to the
house and broujrht her rubbers. Kneelinjr down at the root
of a tree, he i)Ut the rubbers on her little feet, and kissed
the latter. Gazinijat his head bent to her feet, she said:
" The world considers you a great man — and you are put-
ting on my rubbers."

" Because I love you so! " said Zavilovski merrily, still
on his knees.

" This is well, but what would people say ? "

The last question seemingly interested her most of all.
Zavilovski was blind, and Linetti stuck to him like a
cobweb to the wings of a bird, that unwillingly raised it
to that height where one listens to every throbbing of the
heart, divines everything, feels and understands everything.
And I^inetti was sueh a " dear lazy girl ! " She said that
herself to her " falcon," who did not guess that all those
heights to which he wished to ily with her made her dizzy
and ^vear3^ She learhed all her lessons, related all she
was taught and believed the last days of her maiden frolics
would be her vacation. She had an ample supply of
eccentricities, original characteristics and clever sayings, of
lier own make and bowowed, with which she fouijht and
won her battles. Now she noticed that their stock became

49T

exliansted, and at tho ])ottoin of tlic well tliero was iiotliinp^
— but tliu bottom itself. All tliat leniaiind was the
artistic feeling, and if Ignati could contcni himself with
that. She often j)ointed out to him a piett} nook in the
forest, a dale fragrant with flowers, a sunset^ and saiil to
him exultingly : " How beautiful !" With Kopovski she
felt much more at ease. With him slu; made; no effort to
look wiser than she was, and his company was to tier a
much desired rest. His very face called baclcthe smile to
her lips and her disposition for joking. Hut Zavilovski,
who gloried in living a" menial " life, and therefore meas-
uring everything with his own yardstick, could not con-
ceive how such a '* clcvei'," such a spirited, ''ins])ired"
girl could wjitfte one moment on Ivo[)ovski with any other
object than to make him the target for her jokes and sar-
castic remarks. He could not com[)are his I^inetti to
Panni Osnovski. The two women in his eyes were two
opposite poles — North and Souih. IJnetti chose him —
and he was the antithesis to Kopovski. 'J'his alone shat-
tered all his doubts. Linetti let herself be entertained
by Kopovski, found great amusement in fliiting with him,
just because she was a child and in need of a toy. But
Panni Osnovski, among others, said to her husband that
Castelli was seriously flirting with Kopovski. Osnovski
at times "• woke" up to the conclusion that Kopovski would
be better out of Pritulovo, but his wife would not submit
to it. "As long as he courts Stephanie," declared she,
" we have no right to interfere."

Osnovski was at first sur[)rised and then shocked at Lin-
etti's behavior with Kopovslvi, and not being as stupid as his
Anettc wished him to be, made many a discovery that
caused him alarm for the ha[)i)iness of Zavilovski.

He thought with horror what the future of Ignati
was likely to be with a woman who did not appieciate
him, and is so little developed as to lind delight in the
company of such a brainless Adonis. " No, she is a mere
Marionette, and if the influence of such persons as Anette
and Ignati was in vain, nothing will arouse her."

Thus Zavilovski, this unfortunate man suffering with
the blindness of love, while discovei-ing the true situation
on one side, committed a grave error on the other.

498

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Kopovski's plienomenal stupidity was growing as it
seemed in the fresh air. Bnt liis face, as if to rec()ni[)eiise
him for the above deficiency, was becoming still more
handsome. The sun tanned liis face, which made his eyes
appear more expressive, his teeth whitei", and the giow ih
above tlie lip brilliant like silk. Indeed, the splendor ic-
tiected itself in his attire, from the wliiteness of his neclv-
ties, to liis exquisite, though sim})le, costumes. Dressed
in the morning in a suit of English flannel, for tennis,
he was an inspiration of the freshness of the dawn. Ilis
lithe, pliant figure was charmingly set oiY by the s )ft
material ; how iiulecd could that angular, bony Zavilovski,
with his bold Wagnerian jaw and long legs, compare him-
self with him before the ladies. One ninst be as qneci-
as Stephanie Ratkovska to insist that Ko[)ovski is nothing
more than an unbearable doll. It is ti'ue, Castelli smilrd
approvingly when Svirski told her once that Kopovski,
when sudtlenly confronted with a question, had the air of
one who swallowed a yard-stick.

Still he was gay, amiable, and notwithstanding his stn-
pidit3% well traiiied, and so charming, so fresh, that a good
deal conhl be forgiven him.

Zavilovski was mistaken in his belief that Panni l>ronicli
was partial to external gloss, and that his bride was igno-
rant of her demands. Linetti knew all. Ilaviiig lost hope
that Ignati would ever oompaie with Kopovski in a[)-
pearance, she now strove that he should be at least more
or less similar to him. She had an iiuiate attraction for
the ex(piisite things of a man's toilet, and whenever hei-
aunt made those frivolous requests of Zavih)vski, it was
done accoi'dinof to her wish.

lint for Panni Osnovski and other outside iniluence,
Linetti would pi'obably have married K()[)()vski. In hut
Osnovski wondered that it did not ha|)pen so. After all
Ilis observations he came to the conclusion that it w(>ul(l
have been better for I^inetti as well as for Zavilovski.

Once he uttei-ed this thought to his wife, but the lathT
grew angry aiul replied:

"It did not hap})en, and could not have ha[)poniMl ! 1
was tlie fii'st to notice her flirtation with Kopovski. Wlio
could know that she has such a character — a bride of one

yet.

499

and flirting with another! Perhaps she does it out of
spite for Ratkovska, or in order to arouse Zavilovski's
jealousy. Who can tell ? It is for you to put all the
blame on me, that I arranged tlie match. Just recall how
many times you yourself were enthusiastic about Linetti,
how many times you said that heis was an extraordinary
nature, that she would make Zavilovski happy. A really
good natuie ! Now she flirts with Kopovski, but if she
were engaged to the latter, she would have probably
flirted with Zavilovski. An empty-headed person will
always remain such. You say that she would be more
suitable for Kopovski but you ought to have thought of
it before. You say purposely in order to prove how stupid
it was of me to aid Ignati."

"All, Anette I " Osnovski began to justify himself,
*' how can 3^ou admit that I wanted to cause you any un-
pleasantness. I am sim])ly anxious about Ignati's
future, for I love him dearl}-. I would be delighted if
God sent him just such a creature as you yourself are.
You know, my darling, that I would rather bite my
tongue than tell you anj^thing disagreeable. I simply
wanted to speak to you and consult you, as I know very
well that there will always appear an idea in your little
head."

And he kissed lovingly and passionately her hands, her
shoulders, her face, but she turned away from him and said :

" Ah, how you perspire ! "

There was always, really, a layer of perspiration on
him, for all day he was either playing tennis, riding,
rowing, or engaged in some sort of violent exercise, in
order to reduce his weight.

'' Well, say only that you are not angry with me," he
answered, releasing her hand and looking into her eyes.

"Well, certainly not. But what can I advise? Let
them go as soon asj^ossible to Scheveningenand Kojiovski
can remain hei'e with Stephanie."

" Now, you liave fouiul a remedy. Tliey must go in
the beginning of August I . . . But did you observe that
Stephanie is not (juite dis[)osed toward liim ? "

"Stephanie is dissembling! . . . You don't know women

yet."

iil

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fVjflf J;,

f«

500

*'You are right. I even noticed that she is a little
inimical to Linetti, and perhaps at the bottom of her heart
she is angry with Kopovski."

''What?" inquired Osnovski with animation. "May
be you have observed something in his relations to
her?"

*' No ; he simply jests witli her and smiles, for he iiHs
beautiful teetli. Bah ! if I observed anything, he would
not now be here in Pritulovo. It's possible that Castelli
shows off her charms before him, because she simply can-
not help doing so. Sans le savoir ..."

'* Nevertheless, we'll have to speak to Kopovski in refer-
ence to Stephanie, and you know what? I will take a
ride on horseback with him in the direction of t,vesnicli-
ovko and will talk to him seriously ; you ride in the
opposite direction."

"Very well, my dear. Evidently, your little head be-
gins to work."

He wanted to leave, but, stopping at the threshold, he
meditated, and uhen added :

"But how strange and incomprehensible it is: this
Ignati is so penetrating, so wise, and still he does not
see anything to disquiet him about Castelli."

At midday, when Kopovski and Panni Osnovski were
riding on the sliady roadway in the direction of Lyesnich-
ovka, Zavilovski, looking after her and gazing at lier
beautiful figure, clad in her riding-habit, thought to him-
self :

" Kow graceful and attractive she is. Really, it is
irony of fate, that the honest and hearty Osnovski should
be so blind."

Yes, it was irony of fate, but it did not consist of that.

501

CHAPTER XXXV.

With the ride of Panni Osiiovski luid Kopovski to
Lyesnichovka, a change took place in the hitherto amiable
relations of the inhabitants of Pritulovo. It is true, Zav-
ilovski still gazed into the eyes of his bride with delight,
but in the hitter's disposition toward him a shade of si)ite-
ful irony could be noticed. Kopovski felt constrained,
glanced at Linetti by stealth, and this only in Osnovski's
absence, but generally conversed with Ratkovska absent-
mindedly. As to Panni Osnovski, she was more ani-
mated than ever, and extended her managing function
over the affairs of Pritulovo so far ;is to drive with Ko-
povski a couple of times more for serious explanations.

Still, these clianges could only be observed by an expe-
rienced eye familiar with tliat sort of life, in which, with the
absence of better aims and eveiyday toil, the slightest tints
of emotion and the finest fragments of thought not oidy
assume the form of incidents, but very frequently contain
the germ of the latter. Externally life remained as of old,
that is — a daily festival consisting of picnics, love, esthet-
ical impressions, more or less interesting convei'sations,
languor and diversions. The making up of the i)rogram
for each successive day was the sole care of Osnovski, as
the master of the house.

One morning, the usual monotony waslnoken by the ar-
rival of two letters v/ith ])lack edi-es addressed to Osnovski
and Zavilovski. They were all at the tiibh; drijddng tlieir
coffee after dinner. The eyes of the women were curiously
and anxiously turned to the two men, who having opened
the letters almost simultaneously exclaimed :

" Old Zavilovski is (h^i I ! " *

This intelligence produced a startling effect.

Madame Bronich, as i woman of the old school, deemed

502

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III

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'pi

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it good taste to be deprived for a time of the power of
speech. Ratkovska, who lived for a time witli the Zavil-
ovskis, grew pale. Liiietti, grasping her aunt's hands, tried
to draw her to her and whispered : " Chere tu n'es pas
raisonnable ! "

The silence was broken by Ignati Zavilovski :

"I knew him very little and was ev^en prejudiced against
him; but now I aiK heartily soriy, for the old man, as 1
convinced myself, was in reality an excellent man."

"•He also grew to love you," returned Osnovski. ''I
have })roof of it."

'* The old man," Panni Bronich, who had collected her-
self was heard to remark, " was very fond of Linetti, and
surely a loving man cannot be bad." At times he reminded
lier of Theodor, and she was, therefore, attached to him.
True, he was frequently as rough as Tlieodor was amiable,
but both were magnanimous and God will bless them.

Zavilovski, feeling that he and Linetti were stricken
with their first common sorrow, began to kiss her hands.
But this was soon interrupted by Kopovski who, as if med-
itating on the mortality of man, suddenly declared :

" It is curious to know, what will Helena do with her
father's pipes."

The old nobleman had the best colleclion of pipes in
town ; disgusted with cigarettes and cigars, he frequently
entertained in his liouse lovers of the patriarchal pipe.
Nevertheless, Kopovski's anxiety about the pipes remained
unheeded, for anotlier letter was brought to Zavilovski from
Polanetzki, who conveyed to him the same intelligence
with an invitation to the funeral.

It was decided by those present to go at once to the town
foi their mourning appaiel.

Zavilovski, after having made the necessary purchases,
leturned to Osnovski's country house intending to passtlie
evening witli 1 is bride. At tlie entrance lio heard souii'ls
of music cominof from the inner rooms. He met Ratkov-
ska in the corridor and inquired who was playing.

*' Linetti with Kopovski," she answered.

*' So Kopovski is here yet?"

" He came a quarter of an hour ago."

♦* And the Osnovskis?"

ft- i

503

"They have not letiinied yet. Aiiette is shopping."

For the liist time lie felt displeiised ^^itll Linetti.
Though llie old nobleman was nothing to licr, still it
seemed rather bad taste to play duets with Kopovski.
Especially that gay waltz, at such an inopportune time.
Panni Hronieh who wms also present in the room evidently
perceived Zavilovski's displeasure for she hastened to re-
mark :

" Linetti was very much agitated and fatigued ; and
you know that only music (juiets her nerves. '

They sto[)[)ed playing, and tlie dis.agreeable im])ression
in Zavilovski was soon dissipated. At dusk he vas affec-
tionately walking with her arm-in-arm tliiougli the
rooms.

" Do you remendjer," he said, sto{)ping in her studio,
'* liow, once, while })ainting, you placed your liands on my
temples to adjust the head a little, and I kissed your
hand for the fust time? ... I lost my presence of mind
then, but I remendjer your words : ' S})eak t(» aunt ! ' "

" And liow pale you were then ! " she leplied.

" It is not surprising at all. I loved you witli all my

1 i- "
iieart.

'' But how queer all this is ! " Linetti said, glancing at
him.

" What is queeV ? "

*' That all this commences generall}' with a sort of dis-
turbance, mysteriousness, a kind of poetry . . . then you
become used to it, and the lock is closed. . . ."

''Yes, vou are locked in, mv <larliiiL'- ! "' he said, i)ress-
iiig lier shoulder to his chest, "and now LU not let you
'M) any more."

A short pause followed, which was suddenly' inter-
ru[)ted by Zavilovski :

"■• Do you love me? "

" You know it yourself."

"Tell me: Yes?"

'- Yes."

He pressed her again to his heart and spoke in an
alteied t^ne :

'' You yourself have no idea what an amount of real
li;i|)piness is contained in you, and how I love you. You

-ft i;

- ;<

r.04

are for nie life, the world, every tiling. I am ready to die
at your feet."

" Let us sit down," she wliispered, "I am tired."

And they sat down in a dark corner of the room, close
to each other.

"What is tlie matter with you?'- suddenly inquired
Linetti. " You are all in a trcmhU'."

Rut slie herself, excited by recollections, or perha[)s
seized with the same feelinpr ^^ himself, began to breathe
harder and with half-opened eyes, drew to him for a
kiss.

On going home, Zavilovski I'eflected, that indeed Linetti
had become coiled around his heart so closelv that it

ft/

would be impossible to live a day without her.

The funeral of old Zavilovski took place in the presence
of oidy a few of his former acquaintances. Most of his
neifrhbors were abroad. Rut in the church a biff crowd
of peasants congregated and stood beside the rich colilin.
Ap[)arently, it seemed to them strange that such a rich
man should die and ])o buried like any })easant. As to
the friends, the greater })art were mainly preoccupied
with the thought as to what disposition the heiress, —
Helena, would make of her bequeathed millions. They
were wondering at the stoicism with which she bore the
loss of a father, the more so because she was left alone
without relatives or even frieiids. The la<lies of Pritulovo
did not understand that Helena was supported in her
at'lliction by that sublime faith which teaches that death,
however sad an occurrence, is simply a transitory stage in
existence. Speaking of his last days, Helena turned to
Zavilovski and said :

'' He remembered 3'ou also. About an hour before his
death he requested to be informed at once as soon as you
arrived in Buchinok, as he wished to see you. He was
very foiul of vou and vour work."

*'• I myself am sincerely soriy for the bereavement,
replied Zavilovski, kissing her haiul. There was so much
feeling and candor in his woi'ds and tone, that Helena's
eye'i tilled with teais. Even Panni Bronich began to cry,
and but for the bottle of smelling salts would have
swooned away.

505

But the young girl, giving no heed at all to Panni
Bronich's wailing, turned to Polanetzki and thanked him
for tlie assistance he rendered her during the funeral.

Polanetzki's wife was not present at the burial, but
after the interment she endeavoied by all means in her
power to console the daughter of the deceased. Slie in-
vited her, together with the ladies of Pritulovo, to a stay
at lUichinok. Polanetzki seconded her invitation, but
Helena refused, saying that she would not feel lonesome
in Jasminovka.

The ladies of Pritulovo accepted the invitation to visit
Marinya, who was very curious about Katkovski, and {)laced
the latter in the same carriage with iierself. The two young
women at once felt an attraction toward each otlier. In
Ratkovski's sad eyes and face there was something that
betokened her timid nature and reserve, which Marinya
perceived at once; on the other hand, Ratkovski, who
had heard very much of Marinya, clung to her at on(;e
with all her heart. They came to Buchinok the best of
friends.

Marinya showed her residence to the guests. They were
mainly interested in tlie garden in wliich grew granc^ '^>ld
poplars. Svirski, wlio came to learn Marinya's opinioi of
her new friend, took tliis opportunity, when all the vis-
itors were scattered on the paths, to hurriedly inquire of
her :

" Well, v/hat impression did Stephanie produce on

you?"

" The ni(»st favorable. She is probabl}' a most S3'mpa-
thetic and kind child. Improve your ac(piaintance and
study her." •'

" Study, what for ? V\\ this very diiy, and even rii-lit
here in Bucliinok confess to her. I have no need for
examining and reflecting. In such affairs theie must be
a certain degree of hazard. Positively, to-day ? "

Panni Pohmetzki laughed; she thouglit he was jest-
ing, but lie replied earnestly:

"' I am myself rejoiced, because there is nothing mourn-
ful in this. All my life I have feared women, but I am
not afraid of Stephanie ; it must be because she has a kind
heart."

506

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.<'«ll

>iji

'* T think so myself."

" Well, then, now is the time. If she accepts my proj)-
osition, I'll carry her right here (he pointed to his breast
pocket), if not, I'll "

'^ Well ? "

** I'll sliut myself in for a whole day and paint fiom
morning till niglit. I htjpe she will accept ... I know
she does not like that wax doll of a Kopovski. Slie is un
orplian and will commit the most benevolent deed by taking
me. I'll be grateful for tliisboon ail my life. I am really
a good fellow ; I am only afraid of growing stale.'*

Marinya observed that Svirski was possibly capable of
serious conversation, and she replied :

" You are, indeed, a kind man, and you will not, there-
fore, become stale."

" On tlie contrary," lie returned with great animation,
*' this is my only misgiving. Let me be frank with you.
I am not at all as happy as it might appear. It is true, I
attained fame, money, but tliere is no other individual in
this world who yearns for a true woman as much as 1 do.
There is so much levity, egotism and triviality among our
ladies, that at the mere siglit of them I feel tliat staleness
coming on me. But this child is altogether different, —
so quiet, modest, amiable. Ah, if slie only consented ! "

While Svirski was thus engaged with Marinya, Panni
Bronich took Polanetzki aside and began conversing with
him.

" Yes, he reminded me of my young days ; thougli our
friendly relations were interrupted for a long time, I still
entertained the warmest regard for him. 1 suppose you
lieard. But no, you could not have heard, for I divulged
it to nobody ; nevertheless, it depended on me to become
Helena's mother. Now there is no need of keeping it a
secret. He })roposed to me twice, and I refused, though
I loved and lespected him. You understand that when
one is young she seems something like what I liad found
in my Theodor. . . . Ah, yes ! Refused twice. Ah, how
lie suffered then, but what could I do. You yourself, in my
position, would not have acted otherwise. Is it not true ? "

Polanetzki, not in the least desirous of answering her
quest

ion, Sim

Pb'

sai(

507

'* Did you not wish to inquire about something ? "

" Yes, yes! I wanted to know liow lie passed his last
moments. Helena told me that he died suddenly ; but you,
a neighbor and friend, probably had an inkling of his latest
intentions or thoughts? Of course, personally I am little
iriterested, but vou don't know Linetti ! . . . Zavilovski
gave her his word of honor that he would bequeath to
Ignati his Prussian estates. If he did not fullil this
promise or could not do so, may God forgive him as well
as I do. Certainly, the main })oint is not the fortune ;
Lord knows we little need it. If it were otherwise, Linetti
would not have rejected such offers, as for instance from
Marquis Kolimacho or Pan Konafaropulo ; and perhaps
you heard of Cherimski ? It's the same that, thanks to his
pictures, acquired a palace in Venice. This year he pro-
posed to Linetti. Perhaps somebody does really need a
fortune, but it is not us, thank God. All I want is that
she should never, by word or thought, consider herself as
having committed a sacrifice, for from the worldly point of
view she really sacrifices herself for his sake."

The last woids angered Polanetzki.

'' I don't know either the Marquis Kolimacho, or Kona-
faropulo, and even the very names sound somewhat
strangely in Warsaw. ... I suppose Linetti marries out of
love; there should, therefore, be no question of self-im-
molation. Pardon my candor. Whether Zavilovski is a
practical man or not, — it is inmiaterial ; but he does not
know nor wishes to know, if Castelli has any dower ; while
you are not ignorant of his possessions even from a woi'ldly
point of view,"

*' It appears that you don't know of Castelli's origin :
she descends from Marino Falieri."

"It is unknown to me, as well as to anybody else, I
suppose. Since you mentioned the word ' sacrifice,' let
me tell 3'ou frankly that in no particular is Zavilovski in-
ferior to Linetti, even if you lose sight of his talents and
social position."

It appeared from Polanetzki's tone of voice and expres-
sion of face that he was a[)t to go further in his candor
should Panni Bronich prove not contented with what she
had already heard. But apparently there were still left

508

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f -i - ■ .=1

some shafts in her quiver, for, grasping his hand and
l)ressing it violently, she exclaimed:

'* Ah, liow good you are with your kind defense of
Ignati ! But really there was no necessity of protecting
liim against me. Why, I love liim like my own son. If
I inquired about the last arrangements old Zavilovski
made, it was sinqjly in behalf of Ignati, out of my gieat
love for him. Certainly, Helena has no need of those
"millions . . . while Ignati could do so much with them."'

"What can I answer you?" returned Polanetzki.
*' There is no doubt that Zavilovski thought of Ignati,
but this is all I am certain about. If there is a will, it
will be made public in a few days, for Helena certainly
will not conceal it. . . . "

" You know that dear, kind Helena "^ Of course, not as
much as I do. Have the goodness, therefore, not to sus-
pect lier in my presence. Helena will never conceal it."

" Have the kindness not to ascribe to me opinions
which I never entertained. Besides, a will cannot be
concoaled, because it is drawn in the presence of wit-
nesses."

" Now, you see, it cannot even be concealed ; I was my-
self convinced. Besides, old Zavilovski was so fond of
Linetti, that, at least for her sake, he v ould not have for-
gotten Ignati. Why, he carried her in his arms when
she was such," and she made a movement with her hand
showing to Polanetzki how big Linetti was at that time.

They soon rejoined the company. The table was laid
for breakfast, and the guests took their seats. Looking up
at Castelli, Polanetzki observed :

" So you are an old acquaintance of the late Zavilov-
ski?"

*' Oh, yes," replied Linetti, '* three — four j^ears. Aunt,
how long ago were we introduced to Zavilovski V

"And what does this little head only think of?" ex-
claimed Panni Bronich, turning to Svirski. " Ah, wdiat a
happy age, what a happy epoch ! "

Meanwhile Svirski, sitting near Ratkovska, felt that
t}'e explanation was not at all so easy an affair as he told
Marinya. There \vas the presence of strangers, and
besides he experienced a certain anxiety, losing his pres-

r>09

ence of mind even in the coutenndation of the coining
jivowah '' It's qneer," he thought. '* I am a greater
coward than I expected." Now lie noticed tliat Kalkov-
skii possessed a beautiful neck, there was the tint of ])earl
around tlie ears, and she had a very musical voice. After
breakfast the company ke[)t together, as if purposely to
interfere with his intentions. Tiie ladies were fatipued
with the funeral, and began soon to take leave. It was
disagreeable, but still it relieved him a little. '* Ii is not
my fault," he thought, " tliat she goes away. I positively
wanted to confess." Nevertlieless, at tlie last moment, lie
summoned all the fninness of his will. While acccmi-
panying Ratkovska to the carriage he said :

" Osnovski asked me to visit Pritulovo. I will come
without fail witli my brush and palette. It would be
delightful to have your head I"

And lie broke the sentence, not knowing how to come
to the j)oint that interested him most, l^ut the young
girl, evidently not accustomed to being the object of inter-
est, asked with surprise :

"Mine?"

"Allow me to be my own echo this time and repeat
what I said," he hurriedly whispered in a subdued
voice.

Ratkovska looked at him as if not comprehending the
meaning of his woi'ds. But just then Osnovski called her
to the carriage, and he hardly had time to take her hand
and say :

*'Good-by!"

The young girl raised her umbrella, and the painter
cast his last glance in the direction of the carriage.

" Did I explain or not?" he asked himself.

Tie was inclined to answer in the aflirmative, and his
firm hint about " having that head " pleased him im-
mensely. Still there was no particular joy or anxiety
usually felt in such cases. On the contrary, he felt a
want of a mysterious something.

Panni Polanetzki, who watched their leave-taking from
•«afar, was bui'uing with curiosity. It was betokened in
her eyes, though she did not dare to inquire verbally. He
smiled, and replied directly :

1 ••

510

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) " i

^* '.4) >

" Yes . . . almost . . . but not all. There was neitlior
time nor occasion to speak more freely, and there was,
therefore, no answer ; I don't know if she understood inc.
In any case, I shall bo in Pritulovo to-morrow, o^* will
write to her. 1 hope the answer will be favorable."

He kissed her hand, and in a moment was drivin<:
homeward.

**Ah, Svirski, Svirski I " he muttered to himself.
" What became of you ? Was it not you that for twenty-
five years prepared the leap over that chasm ? Did not
what you have chanted about happen only this moininrj?
Where is your loncfing then, your joy ? And why don't
you call aloud : ' At last I ' Don't you see, old dotard, you
are goini^ to be mariied ! "

But all efforts to excite himself were in vain. Inwardly
he remained undisturbed, cool. Surprise and wonder
took possession of him. He certainly acted consciously,
and was not a giddy child that did not know its own
whims. Having once concluded that matrimony would
be the ])est state for him, he did not change his opinion.
Ratkovska was the same sweet, quiet creature, the longed-
for "girl"; why, then, did not the recollection of her
agitate him at least.

*' What I told her was all rig'"*- but rather dry. Yes,
really dry and incomprehensible. . . . Besides, 1 hardly
myself believe that it happened."

And tiie impressions of the artist interrupted his train
of thoughts. On the meadow glistening in the sunbeams
a herd of sheep were grazing. On the green background
they appeared to him like wdiite spots.

" 1'hey feel well — these sheep. They are grazing calmly
on the meadow. But the devil take it, I will also
marry."

And he resumed his reverie. There are different thoughts
crossing man's mind that he fain would not admit ; there
are also feelings which one is loath to turn into clear con-
sciousness. He did not love Ratkovska, but would not con-
fess that he was going to take the girl simply because he
had to marry. Others loved, thanks to a woman, while lie
took the other road and reached simply the requirement
of woman. Many, possessing an idol, built a temple for

611

liini, wliile he 'lid just the opposite. Now lie uiulei'stood
v/hy he was so energetic juid resolute in the morning and
so cool a little hiter. This was the more distressing since
he knew his capacity for love. Me recalled what Polan
etzki told liini of a certain physician, who was rejected
hv a senseless doll and who observed :

'* I know what she is, but cannot tear my heart away
from her." That was true love.

lit

ill:

512

CHAPTER XXXVII.

'|r'' ^

r ft

A FEW days later the will was to be made public. At
Helena's request Zavilovski went to Jasminovka together
with Polanetzki, a notary public and the lawyer Kono-
novich. The first two days he wrote to Linetti letters full
of endearments, love, but not a word about the legacy.
This evidently did not please the aunt ; she secretly told
Anette, that first of all, it is absurd to write letters to a
bride, an.d second, — that it is " quelque chose de louche,"
premeditated silence on an inteiesting point. She could
not remain quiet in Pritulovo, and in two days went to
town, under some pretext, in order to learn something
definite about the lesfacy.

She returned the next day bringing with her Panni
Mashko, whom she met at the station, and the informal iou
that old Zavilovski left everything to his daughter Helena.
But this 'vas already known in Pritulovo from Igiuiti's third
lettei", which was received in lier absence. Nevertheless,
the old woman's story produced a disagreeable impression.
Here a few strange things have to be noted. These ladies
made their acquaintance with Ignati when he was poor.
Linetti became his bride when there was no expectation of
any inheritance whatever! All this hai)pened, thanks to
Panni Osnovoski, under the influence of the generiil en-
thusiasm aroused by Zavilovski's poems and fame. It was
also due to a great extent to public pinion that eulogized
Linetti for marrying a man wlio possessed no earthly riches
but poetical genius. It was much later that hopes hiul
arisen, which made Zavilovski an enviable match even
from a material standpoint. But such is human nature,
that as soon as those ho[)es were dissipated, the man
aj)])(>ai'ed lower in tlieir estimation.

In his last letter Zavilovski wrote to Linetti that '' 1

i-H-i

,i: '

513

would wish to oe a Crcesus for your sake, but what are
riches in com[)arison with you. I do not even think of it,
you shoukl not, tlierefoie, be distressed. You are my only
lia{1J)iness, everytliing else is naught," etc. As toLinelti,
Zavilovski was not mistaken. She studiously avoided the
subject of the legacy, at least in the presence of people,
whatever the motive might have been.

Osnovoski, tliough sorely disappointed, tried nevertheless
to belittle the catastrophe.

" I don't think he wouhl have ceased to write if he had re-
ceived the inheritance, still the mere administration of such
,an immense estate would have deprived him of a good deal
of his \aluable time, witli the consequent detriment to his
talent. 1 involuntarily recall the words of Henry VIII.,
who said to one of his princes about (lolbein : ' I can
turn ten peasants into ten princes, but would not be able
to produce a single (iolbein from ten princes.' Ignati
is a rare man. Believe me, aunt, I loved and respected
Linetti, but these feelings became ten times greater since
her acquaintance with him. To be something in the life
of such a man is a high destiny that will arouse envy in
every woman. Is it not so, Anette ? "

" You are right," replied Panni Osnovski, " every
woman likes to belong to a man that represents some-
thing."

Osnovski grasped her hand and covered it with kisses.

'' Do you think it does not vex and disturb me," he
observed half-seriously and half-jestingly, " that such a
being as you should belong to a zero in the person of
Joseph Osnovski. But what can be done ! It took place.
Now I can only say that this zero loves his unit to mad-
ness."

He turned then in the direcUon of Panni Bronich :

" Just take into consideration, aunt, that Ignati has his
own capital of ten thousand roubles : besides, his father
will leave quite a signilicant sum which the late Zavil-
ovski placed in a bank in his name for his maintenance in
the liospital. In any case he will live comfortably."

Panni Bronich shook her head disdainfully.

"• Naturally," she re[)lied, '^ Linetti consenting to marry
Zavilovski never thought of his financial condition. If

514

In-;;!

r
,1

i^J

/I'i.

such a consideration should enter her head, all she needed
is just to liint, and Konafaroi)ulo would be her husband.

•■* Spai-e nie ! " exclaimed Panni Osnovski laugliing.

" iS'otbing awful has occurred," rejoined OsnoVf^ki.
" Helena will, probably, never mariv, and lier fortune will
be left to I^nati or to his cliildren."

But noticing her saddened face he grew silent and then
added :

" Really, aunt, the best policy is to trust in God ; be
kind and merry ! . . . Ignati is not lowered one iotainoui-
eyes."

Well, of course," slie replied with some aiiger, " Zavil-
ovski is just the same. Certaiidy, he possesses talent, but
still everybody will say that he makes an excellent match
by marrying Linetti. There can be no two opinions on
this subject. . . . Nobody thinks of his fortune ; but
people speak variously about the means througli which old
Zavilovski raised him in public o})inion. IMay God forgive
the old man's sins and deceit. Nevertheless, it were better
if Ignati had made no hints as to tlie probability of his
becoming the heir of old Zavilovski."

" Pardon me, aunt! " exclaimed Osnovski, "this is en-
tirely too much ! He never made any sucli hints, and
would not even have gone to the old man if not for you."'

But Panjii Bronicli let loose the wings of her fancy, and
she continued with irritation :

" Perhaps he did not hint it to you, Osnovski, but he
did so to me. But I liave told you already that the main
point is not riches. You, Anette, never were a mother, and
can't therefore perceiv^e what anxiety we experience while
giving away our daughters. . . . First of all I discovered
that, with all his good qualities, Zavilovski has a dreadful
character. I suspected this before. If his character be
bad, wiiy, it will ruin Linetti. Polanetzki himself does
not deny that it is so. Ignati's father has also an imi)os-
sible cluiracter, whicli brouglit him even to insanity ; this
might be hereditary. I know that Ignati loves Linetti
apparently (if men are only capable of love), but liow
long may it continue? Why, you yourself will not deny
that lie is a great egotist (but all men are selfish). It
iphould, therefore, be no surprise to anybody that I feel

515

anxious about Linetti, that I fe;ir lest she should fall into
the hands of a barbarian or ijisane eirotist."

" No, tliis is impossible I " exclaimed Osnovski, turning
to his wife. " It is enough to drive one crazy."

Panni Osnovski vas amused with their continuous
wrangling. This time, however, it assumed a too serious
character, for the old woman, looking witli compassion at
Osnovski, continued :

'' Besides, that sphere. . . . All those Polanetzkis, Svir-
skis, Bigels. ... It is all inadeciuate for Linetti. Be-
tween ourselves, whoai-e these people, Zavilovski*s friends,
with whom Linetti will have to come in contact! . . - "

'* Ah, tliat's how we speak ! " interrui)ted Osnovski.
'• If it comes to this, allow me to remind you, dear aunt, who
old Zavilovski was. As to the sj)liere, I have the honor to
declare tliat we are mere upstarts in compaiison with the
Polanetzkis ; it is they who condescend, not we. I am
not fond of genealogies, but if it be your wisli, I'll get for
you conclusive data for my assertion. You probably
heard of the Svirskis, who descend from an old princely
stock, one branch of wliicli, on migrating into gi-eater
P land, voluntarily gave up its princely title, although it
belongs to them by right and justice. That's who they
are. As to ourselves, mv grandfather was a notary in
Ukrayna, and I .am not at all ashamed of it. Wlience the
Bronichs come, you yourself, aunt, know better than I.
T!ie same is true of Castelli."

" Castelli descends from Marino Falieri I " exclaimed
the old woman with dignity.

" Allow me, aunt, to remind you that we are alone here,
and can permit ouselves, therefore, to speak the trutli."

" But did not it de[)end on Linetti herself to become
the Marchioness of Kalimaclio?"

"Do you know, aunt, tlie comic opera, La vie pari-
nenne? Tliere figures in it an admiral from Switzerland.
But why should we quarrel ? You know I always loved
Linetti, and oidy wished that slie should prove woitliy
of Ignati."

But this was adding fuel to the fire. It a})peared to
Panni Bronicli a real blasphemy, and she completely lost
her temper.

510

• ' I

\ i
t •

.■V

r I

"That Linetti should urovo worthy of Ignati ! '* .she
ex(;hiiniecl.

Foituiiatel}', the conversation was interrupted by tlie
arrival of Paiini Masliko. Osnovski inquired where the
rest of the con)})aiiy remained.

" Kopovski, Linetti, and Stephanie pre in the green-
house ; they are doing some painting, while Koj^ovski
diverts tlieni."

'' With wliat ? " inquired Osnovski.

'' Witli his chat ; we all laughed listening to iiis
stories."

" Is Stephanie also in the greenhouse ? " asked Panni
Osnovski.

" Yes, they are painting together."

" Do you wish to join them ? " inquired the husband.

" All right."

Just then the servant In'ouglit some letters. Osnovski
read the addresses.

" Tliis one is for Anette," lie said, "and here is another
one to the same destination ! This little writer has alvays
a large correspondence. And this is for you," lie added
turning to Panni Mashko, " this one is for aunt; and here
is for Stephanie . . . The handwriting is familiar. May I
leave you for a minute ? . . . I'll just take this letter to
Stephanie."

" Go, go," returned Osnovski, " and meanwhile we'll
read our letters." Osnovski went to the greenhouse ex-
amining the letter on his way.

"Positively, I have seen this handwriting before," he
muttered ; " bu\3 whose could it be ? . . ."

He found the young people in the hot-house. The girls
were ])ainting in their albums. Kopovski dressed in a
wliite flannel suit and black stockings, sat a little behind
smoking a thin cigarette.

" Good morning !" said Osnovski on entering. " How
are my orcliids ? . . . Are tliey not superb ! . . . Beautiful
flowers ! . . . Here is a letter for you, Stephanie, excuse
yourself and read it. Tlie liandwriting is familiar to me,
but I cannot recollect whose it is."

Ratkovska opened the lettc and began to read it. In a
minute the expression of her fa^e changed, suffused with

r) . (

a blush, and then it suddenly became pale. Osnovski gazed
at her with curiosity. Having linished it she said in a
trend)ling voice,

** ^t is from " and slie showed the signature to

Osnovski.

'' Ah I " he exclaimed and at once perceived what it was
about.

"• jNIay I ask you to spare a moment for me."

" With pleasure, my child," replied Osnovski gra-
ciously. '' I am c.>, your disposal."

They left the hot-house.

'* They have left us alone for once," n lively observed
Kopovski.

Linetti did not answer. She took his exquisitely worked
cigarette case from the small table near by and began to
rub her face with it. He gazed at her with his brilliant
eyes, under whose glance she simply thawed. Linetti
knew what to think of him, and his absolute foolislmess
was no secret to her, still, tlie grace and enviable beauty
of this dullard agitated lier pK'beian blood. Every hair in
his beard had a certain charm for her.

" Have you noticed, that for some time they have been
watching us ?" continued Kopovski.

But Linetti feiufued inattention and continued to rub
lier cheek witli the cigarette case bringing it near her
lips. Finally, she said :

^' How soft and pleasant to the touch . . . see how
acfreeable it is."

Kopovski took the cigarette-case and kissed that side of
it wliich had been in contact with her face. Deep silence
reigned.

" However, we must leave this place," she said, and
taking the flower-pot she tried to place it on a shelf, but
could not reach it.

'* Allow me to do it," said Kopovski.

" No, no, it will fall down and break. I'll place it from
the other side."

Witli these words she turned around and walked through
the narrow passage between the shelves and the wall.
Kopovski followed her.

Linetti stood on a pile of bricks and placed the pot on

518

iT-: '

,;l

the highest shelf, but just at the moment of descent tlie
pile of bricks yielck'd under her feet, and she almost fell
to the ground. In the twinkling of an eye, Kopovski
clasped her waist and they grew motionless like statues.
Finally, he bent over so that her head drooped on his
shoulder. lie pressed it to his !;osom.

" What are you doing ! . . ." she whispered in con-
fusion, exciting him with her warm breath.

Instead of replying he put his lips to her mouth. Sud-
denly, with a passionate movement, she embraced him, and
as if letting loose the fire within her she began to pour
down on him burning kisses.

Entranced with their passion they did not observe how
Osnovski, having returned to the hot-house, quietly walked
on the soft sand to the shelves, stopped short and stared,
distracted and pale as a ghost.

'it

519

);'

!^i.
•»(•

•'1

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Meanwhile Zaviloski was preparing for his coming
marriage, allowing himself but brief though frequent visits
to Pritulovo. His presence at Bucliinok was necessary
on account of Helena. Tiie latter, outwardly indifferent
and cool, surrounded Ignati with real maternal care. On
learning througli Polanetzki that Zavilovski was looking
for suitable quarters to be occupied at once after the wed-
ding ceremony, she requested the former to place in a
bank in the young man's name a considerable sum of
money.

In his turn, Zavilovski, thanks to his grateful heart, soon
became attaclied to her, as to an older sister. They enter-
tained a feeling of mutual sympathy and confidence. Still,
at that time, Zavilovski could spare to her only a small
portion of his heart, for it belonged totally to his adored
Linetti.

Meanwhile Zavilovski was running back and forth from
Warsaw to Buchinok forming new acquaintances. Among
others, there was Professor Vaskovski who had lately re-
turned from his pilgrimage to the " Younger of the
Arians." The professor's state of health was so unfavoi-
iible that the Polanetzkis took him to Bucliinok out of
compassion. Zavilovski loved him from the first, as a
man with a definite idea. This feeling was fully recipro-
cated by Vaskovski. Having read Ignati's poems, lie
looked at him with particular curiosity. Once, sitting at
the table, after Zavilovski was gone, Vaskovski turned to
Polanetzki, and raising his finger said :

"• Tliere is a heavenly s])ark ! He does not know for
what God predestined liim I"

Panni Polanetzki told him about his approaching mar-

•i)
I

6 20

It'

V4 •'

riage with Linetti, praising the latter's beauty and kind-
ness.

'* Yes," he replied, " slie also has Iier task in life ; slie
is to be a priestess, a vestal for feeding the heaven Iv
flame in that temple. All this impels human progress,''
he added, after a short pause.

Polanetzki glanced at liis wife, hinting that the oil
man was beginning to grow confused in liis thoughts.

*' It must be tliat the girl has a pure soul, if God
selected her for that high oflfice," rejoined the professoi-,
after a short interval.

Svirski's arrival interrupted further conversation. Panni
Polanetzki was awaiting him injpatiently, for he promised
to inform her about the result of liis explanation witli
Ratkovska. On entering the room he looked somewhat
queerly at Marinya.

Evidently he wanted to speak to her, but not in tlie
])resence of her husband or Vaskovski. Perceiving this,
Polanetzki came to his help, and pointing to his wife,
said :

" The physician advised Marinya as much exercise as
possible. Would not you be kind enough to take a walk
with her in the garden? Don't I know that you want to
speak to her?"

They went out. After some silence, each one waiting
for the other to begin, Svirski tinall}' said :

*' I suppose you told everything to your husband."

*' Yes . . . Stach is so well disposed toward you that I
could not conceal it from him."

" So much tlie better!" he exclaimed, kissing her hand.
" I am not ashamed of it. Well, I was rejected."

" It's impossible ! You are jesting ! " she exclaimed,
stopping sliort.

But, seeing that the news affected her disagreeably, lie
said :

"• You must not take it to heart more tlian I. It's done,
and I am here before you hale and hearty. No thought of
suicide, I assure you."

^' But wliy? Wliat did she answer?"

" Why — I don't know. r)Ut her answer — you shall
learn. In fact it is only the answer that distresses me.

521

But it must be confessed that I w<as not in love with Rai-
kovska ; 1 simply- liked lier ns 1 '^o so many more. I
thought she would prove kindly ai.d grateful, and it was
time for me to marry, — tliis was the reason wliy I pio-
posed. In the beginning it was rather disagreeable to
exjdain, but on recalling that my words addressed to her
in Buchinok were not sufliciently clear, I wrote lier a let-
ter, and this is what I received in response to it."

He took the letter from his pocket and began to
read: " In the beginning the usual preface. She respects
me very liighl3% would be very happy, proud of me. She
feels a true, warm sympathy for me (if she feels the
same for her husband, lie won't grow fat on it), and con-
cludes : ' I am not able to give you my heart with that
gladness you deserve, therefore I decided to decline the
honor, and if I shall never be happy, I will at least never
accuse myself of having been insincere. But, owing to
what has occurred, I can write no more. Nevertheless, I
beg you to believe me, that I shall always remain grateful
for your faith and confidence in me, and pray to God that
He might send you a woman worthy of you, and bless
3'our life.' " He paused, then added : " Whatever she
writes about me is all bosh. Her words show clearly
that she loves some one else."

— " Yes, it seems so. Poor girl ! However, what a
warm, sincere letter ! "

— " Yes ; warm, sincere, honest ! " exclaimed Svirski ;
" they're all honest, and this adds to my misery. She
does not wish to be mine? Very well. It's her privi-
lege. She is in love. She has a right to that, too. l\ot
with Osnovski, nor Zavilovski, I am sure. Then it's Ko-
povski — that idol of servant girls ; that dandj-, who looks
like a wax figure, or a picture in a fashion magazine.
Plave 3'^ou ever seen the pictures on linen labels ? This is
his portrait. If he stood in the window of a barber shop,
the girls would break the window looking at him. You
remember what I said of him: a male houri ! This em-
bitters me, and it does not recommend women. Naturally,
bring them a Newton, a Raphael, a Napoleon, they will
put above them all a ' sweet-looking ' imbecile of a dandy.
Such are women ! "

■hM

ft »

522

-" But not all, not all

oil, as an artist, must under-

•i .'

'!'■ '■

l'\ b^=

stand what feelings are. Once it builds its nest in the
heart, the mind is gone."

"' or eourse, not all ; I know this myself. And to love
— wliat do you say? — will build its nest in the heart, and

Mavl)

lo^

everytlnng is gone. iMayoe. lerliaj)s love is a disease.
But tiiere are diseases which do not affect noble natures ;
for instance, a hoof malady. One ought to be born wilh
hoofs to have that disease. Do you remember how I once
expressed myself at Bigel's about Castelli? And yet she
preferred Zavilovski. I am only attacking these false
preiensions, those insincere phrases. Do not lie, pretend,
or tempt. I know women, and am convinced that l{at-
kovska is not apt to fall in love with Kopovski ; still, it is
so! Certainly, I will soon he consoled, but this comedy,
this lie disgusts me, that such an ass as Kopovski
should prove the conqueror."

" Yes, you are right."

Svirski waved his hand.

" If she married me it would probably come to this that
I would actually carry her in my arms. Upon my honor I
It would be real bliss . . . Oh, well, she is not the only
one in this world. You will have the kindness, I hope, to
find for me another girl."

Marinya cheered up, noticing that Svirski was not par-
ticularly alHicted by the loss of Stephanie.

" Did you observe," she returned, '* that she mentions
some incident, due to which she is unable to write at
greater length. Do you suspect anything?"

" Possibly, Kopovski had an understanding with her."

" No ! . . . she would in that case express herself more
clearly. Tlie poor girl lias neither money, nor property,
and Kopovski, being himself poor, expects a dower; it is,
therefore, rather problematical, if an agreement between
them could be reached."

" You're right, though she is in love with him, he will
liardh' marry her. But this being the case, why does
he stay there?"

" Well, they are liaving sport, and he participates in the
game," replied Panni Polanetzki, turning her face away
in order to conceal her agitation.

pect 1
Sister
go ale

"Si
She is
I saw

"Y(
toil ut

"Pi
valids,

"If

Jus
appror

'^I

" rii 1

turniii
The

tea foi
"I

wish

where?

What
"Itl

had od

will
does

523

But she knew more. Since lier husband inipaited to lier
his misgivings witli regard to tlie relations of Kopovski
and Panni Osnovski, slie perceived j)lainly that the young
man's courtship of Katkovska was merely a screen, a pre-
text. This subterfuge was the more dislionest, if Kat-
kovska loved liim. But the intrigue could not remain a
secret much longer, and Marinya loflected : '' Is tliere
possibly a connection between what the girl hinted in her
letter and Osnovski herself. In this case a calamity really
took place — equally disastrous for Osnovski as for Ste-
phanie."

" I'll be in Pritulovo, to-morrow ; it must be proven that
I entertain no nialice toward anybod}' there. If anything
had occurred, you'll know it through me ... Is Zavi-
lovski there now?"

" No, he is in town. To-morrow or a day after we ex-
pect him here. Stach is going to-day to visit my friend,
Sister Amelya, who is very sick ; unfortunately, I cannot
go along. We intend to bring her liere."

" Sister Amelya, whom your husband calls Emilya . . .
She is a true Fra Angelico . . . The face of a saint! . . .
I saw her in your house ... If she were not a sister "

" Yes, she is wQvy sick. It's tlie result of unremitting
toil utterly beyond her strength."

"Pitiful, very pitiful! . . . Now, you will have two in-
valids, her and Vaskovski . . . Oh, how kind you are ! "

"It's Stach, not I."

Just then Polanetzki was seen in the pathway rapidly
approaching them.

" I was told you are going to tow^n to-day," said Svirski,
"I'll join you."

" Very well. You are fatigued," added Poh\netzki
turning to his wife, "take my arm."

They walked to the veranda, and Marin3'a left to order
tea for the guests. Polanetzki returned to Svirski.

" I received just now a telegram," he said, " and did not
wish my wife to see it. Osnovski inquires of Ignati's
whereabouts, and requests my immediate presence in to\>n.
What can it mean ? "

" It's queer. Ratkovska wrote to me that something
had occurred there," replied Svirski.

->,

. f

5-24

" Possibly somebody taken sick ? "

" Then Zavilovski onl} would be called, without me.
If Castelli is sick, and if Osnovski did not want to frighten
him, he would not have telegra[)hed to me."

Full of grave forebodings they stared at each other for
the solution of the mystery.

'H":

■M

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< >'j

525

XXXIX.

; i

'4 1

.'d '2; J

Next morning, soon after Polanetzki's arrival in Warsaw,
Osnovski rang liis bell. Polanetzki 02)enecl the door him-
self. Since the previous ev^ening he had felt uncomfort-
able. Of course, the likelihood of a sudden explosion in
Pritulovo was admissible, but still he could not understand
what connection it had with Zavilovski.

Osnovski shook his hand with unusual vigor, and hur-
riedly inquired :

"Is your wife in Buchinok?"

*' Yes, we are alone here," Polanetzki replied.

They went inside. Osnovski sat down, bent his head and
kept silent. He was breathing violently. After a short
pause, Polanetzki inquired :

" What has happened ? "

" A calamity," replied Osnovski with a deep sigh.
" Ignati's wedding is not to take place ! "

" What ? "

" A nasty affair occurred, and perhaps it would be better
for Ignati not to know its cause. I hesitated for a long
time, but am now resolved that the facts should be laid
bare before him. It is more important than liis vanity.
Possibly his indignation and contempt will help him to
bear the blow. In any case, there will be no wedding, for
Ciistelli is unworthy of him ; even if it were possible to
readjust the relations I certainly would be the first to put
a decisive veto on it."

Osnovski began to breathe heavily. Polanetzki, who
listened as one dazed, shocked, suddenly jumped to his
feet and exclaimed:

"But, my God! . . What has happened? '

*' The two ladies went abroad three days ago, taking
with them Kopovski as the betrothed of Linetti."

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Polanetzki regained his seat. There was an expression
of anxiety and surprise in his face. He stared at Osiiovski
as if not perceiving the meaning of liis words. Finally,
he uttered, somewhat incredulously :

" Ivopovski, together with Linetti?"

But Osnovski, stricken to the core of his lieart by tli.-
occurrence, did not heed the form in which the question
was put, and continued :

** Unfortunately, yes. You know I am connected wiili
those ladies by ties of blood ; my motlici- was a cousin of
Aunt Bronicli, and, therefore, of Castelli Linetti's nioilui'.
You would for that reason naturally suppose that I would
endeavor to spare them, but most decidedly not : on icla-
tions are severed, and were Castelli my own sistei-, tliu
resolution would not be changed an iota. As to Zavi-
lovski, I will hardly be able to see him ; we also are goiiij^
abroad this very day. Besides, I simply caunot muster
sufficient courage to tell him everything without reserva-
tion. As a friend, you'll be able to accomplish the task
much better and more gently; I will now tell you what
has ha])j)enecl."

And Osnovski imparted to liim what he saw in the
green-house. He was agitated and surprised at the fever-
ish attention with which Polanetzki was listening to him.
He little thought that there wore sufficient reasons wliy
this tale affected Polanetzki's nerves more than the pos-
sible news of Castelli's or Zavilovski's death could.

''The first minute I lost my presence of mind," con-
tinued Osnovski. "Though not a hot-headed fellow, it is
still a wonder to me that I did not break his bones rijjht
there and then. I Avent away, but soon retuiiKMl and
oi'dei'ed him to follow me. He was pale but coHocted.
On entering the house I told him that his conduct was
mean, that he had betrayed our confidence and hospitality,
that Linetti was a trivial girl deserving nothing but con-
tempt, that hei' union with Zavilovski is hei'ebv dissolved,
and finally, that I sliall com[)el him to many her. They
liail appai'ently had time to s])eak of it, for Kopovski
declare<i that he had been in love with Linetti for a long
time and would marry her, and as to Zavilovski he is
ready to give him full satisfaction at any moment. I felt

trzi

con-
it is

these words were inspired hy Linetti, for Kopovski liini-
self is incapable of such a reply. * Besides,' — he rejoined,
— * there is no need of squaring accounts with Zavilovski,
as I am not in the least obligated to him ; and as to Linetti
])referring me — well it's lier own free will, and tlie worse
for him.' I don't know what Castelli said to lier aunt,
with whom she conversed u'hile our explanation with Ko-
povski was going on, but suddenly Panni Bionich bioke
into the room, cursing like a witch, denouncing me and my
wife for having, she said, interfered with Linetti's natural
inclinations, for continually obtruding Zavilovski on poor
Linetti, who could not love him, and was ciying her eyes
out day and night, for making her miserable, and so on —
during a whole hour ! We aie to blame, Zavilovski, every-
bod}', but they arc propriety itself ! "

And Osnovski rubbed his forehead.

" Ah, dear I " he added, '' I am thirty-six years old, and
had no conception how far woman's perversity could go.
Now I see liow capable they are of turning things inside
out, of making black aj)pear white. But this capacity for
evil, this absence of all moral sense, truth, justice, this
egoism — it revolts one terribly. I would send them all to
the devil if it did not concern Ic^nati ! Certainly, with
them he would be the most unfortunate of mortals, but for
sucli an exalted nature— it is a terrible blow. And
Linetti! Who could imaoine ! . . . Wliv, he is such a
dullard, such a ninny ! And this girl, — the bride of Zavi-
lovski ! Reallv, it is enoufrh to drive one mad I "

"Yes, it is," like on echo returned Polanetzki, and both
grew silent.

"When did it liappen ? " Polanetzki, at last inquired.

" Tln-ee days ago tliey left for Scheveningtiu ; — this was
just Jifter our explanation. Koj)ovski had a [)assport read3\
Though he is such a jackass, he had suihcient foresight
to prepare that item. To all appeaiances, the admirer of
Stephanie, he intended to go with tliem abroad, and ])i'o-
vided himself, therefore, with the document befoichaiid.
Simulating love toward one, he courted anothei-. Yes,
poor Ignati I If lie were my own l)rother I could feel
no greater compassion. . . . Well, it is better he did not
commit himself to such a girl I "

"..•■• t Is

■Lib

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■i^

528

Ho took off his glasses, and began to clean them with
a handkeroliief while blinking his eyes. His face appeared
overcast with grief and an expression of wretchedness.

" Why did you not communicate this before ? " inquired
Polanetzki.

*' There was no time, . . . mv wife fell sick, . . . she
was exceedingly perturbed — nerves. . . . You cannot im-
agine how deeply this affair affected her ! . . . She is so
nervous ; besides, it happened in our house. To her
sensitive nature, this was a terrible calamity : first of all,
because slie was so mistaken in Linetti whom she loved,
then her compassion for Zavilovski, and, finally, the mere
contact with such evil and nastiness ! ... It was entirely
too mucli for her pure, cliaste nature. At first 1 was afraid
of a severe illness ; even now I am not at all confident
that it will not affect her nerves. We men caii't even
conceive what turmoil is produced in the hearts of these
pure women at the mere contemplation of wickedness."

Polanetzki looked up at Osnovski with particular atten-
tion, bit his lip, but preserved his silence.

" Of course, I at once sent for a physician," continued
Osnovski, " and for the second time lost my wits. For-
tunately Stephanie and Panni Mashko were on hand.
They took great pains with her, and for this I'll be thank-
ful to tliem all my life. Though Panni Mashko appears
rather cold, she is in reality a very kind woman. ..."

" 1 think," interrupted Polanetzki, in order to change
the point of conversation, " that if old Zavilovski had be-
queathed an estate to Ignati, this occurrence would not
have hap[)ened."

*^ Possibly. But I am absolutely certain that if Linetti
married Ignati, her instinct would draw her to all such
Kopovskis that she would come in contact with, be Zavi-
lovski iia rich as a Croesus. It's lier nature. I doubt
if she could ever have sincerely loved Ignati. She is in
need of Kopovskis. They ascribed to her various ideal
aspirations till she herself believed in her high destiny.
She wheedled Ignati out of vanity and ignorance of her
own nature. But what is insincere camiot last long, and
the interest in Ignati i)assed. Then tliey grew anxious
about the future, that it would probably prove different

H; Vc

.20

from what tliey wislied ; pciliaps tliey wore oven embar-
rassed by liis ideal asi)ii'ations. Besides tliat cxpeeted iii-
lieritaiiee — evidently, its non-realization lo'\ered him in
tlieir eyes. To this you liave to add Linutti's instinets,
Kopovski — and you have an answer to all your questions.
Tliere are women like my and your wife, but there aro
also others."

After a shoit pause Osnovski continued :

"lean foresee the grief and indignation of your wife.
It's a pity you did not see how mine received the intel-
ligence, even Panni Mashko. Yes, tliere are different
women, and we ought to thank God every day of our lives
fo]' the favor He bestowed upon us."

And his voice gi-ew tremulous with agitation. . . .
Meanwhile, Polanetzki thought, how that man, who spoke
just a minute ago like a man of sound ideas, could now be
so artless. Although his thoughts were preoccupied with
Zavilovski, he could hnrdly abstain from laughter, when
Osnovski mentioned Panni Mashko's indignation. An
oppressive sense of the irony of life took hold of him; the
general disturbance was a natural sequence of it, he
thought.

"So you will not see Zavilovski," inquired Polanetzki.

" I really cannot make up my mind to it; besides we
are immediately going abroad. I must take my wife awa3\
Her health may depend upon the change of surroundings.
Certainly we will not go to Scheveningen. . . . You know
my love and regard for Ignati. Don't refuse, therefore, the
favor ril ask of you : write to me how the poor man bore
his fate."

And he covered his face with his hands. After a while
lie exclaimed :

'*Ah ! how sad, how miserable

» »»

*'■ Very well, PU write ; but you must send your ad-
dress," said Polanetzki. '"If it is my duty to l)ieak the
news to Zavilovski, 3'ou must render me some hel[). It's
important that the sad intelligence should be communi-
cated to him not by a third i)erson, but by the one who
saw and knows all. Othei-wise, be might have a wiong
conce[)tion of the affair, and, as one drowning, catch at a
straw of an excuse. You must leave a letter. Til nive it

580

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to him in confirmation of what I am going to tell liini;
otherwise Ije might run after them to Seheveniiigen."

" But he might be here any moment."

" No; liis father is sick, and lie is at liis bedside, ex|»ect-
iiig me only at noon. Write ! "

"Very well," replied Osnovski, and sat down at the
writing-table.

" Irony of fate, irony of fate!" reflected Polanetzki,
walking to and fro. "How otherwise can yon exi)lain
what has happened to Zavilovski. Why, for example,
that \swan ' with the instincts of a servant girl, that
'priestess,' as only yesterday Vaskovski called hei'. This
very same Osnovski, with his unshakable confidence in
the wife, her purity, her chastity, her indignation at the
mere contact with filth. And Panni Mashko? It is all a
comical farce, in which some deceive others, while the
latter deceive themselves; deceivers and deceived, errors,
blindness, lies, victims — in a word, a confusion without
an end. Yes, a funny, but also desperate irony — and this
is our life ! "

And here Polanetzki thouoht of himself. Was he anv
better? Linetti betrayed a man for the sake of a dul-
lard, while he betrayed his wife for a senseless doll.
But she, as a woman of the world, set at naught only
words, while he tramples principles under foot. If it
was a flagrant injustice for such a girl to become the wife
of Zavilovski, how could he be the husband of Maiiiiya?
If a single word of reproof could be found for Castelli —
and it was impossible not to lind them — he should, to he
consistent, part with his wif3, something tliat he could
never resolve upon.

A grave foreboding, almost a presentiment, took pos-
session of Polanetzki, that, due to some mysterious looic,
iin awful catastrophe would take place in his life. His
thoughts reverted to Zavilovski.

''Poor boy," he reflected; "little does he suspect lluit
Osnovski is at this moment here in my study writing his
sentence! And for what?"

At last, Osnovski finished, and opening the door, he
said :

" I broke the news gently, but did not conceal anything.

liini ;

531

And now ma}' the Lord have mercy on him, and grant
him enough strengtli to hear the blow ! I never expected
to be a carrier of such intelligence."

'" I repeat again my request that you write to me about
Ignati," he rejoined, while taking leave. '^ Good-by. I
am hurrying to my wife ! God grant tliat we meet again
under more fortunate circumstances. My hearty greeting
to your wife. . . . Adieu ! "

And Osnovski left.

" What is to be done ? " thought Polanetzki. " Send
the letter dii'cctly, or await Zavilovski here? In such
trials it is not the best policy to leave a man alone ; but I
must go to Bucliinok. Besides, nobody could keep him
fron. hiding somewhere. I myself would hide. Well, I
must go to Emilya."

He was relieved a little at the prospect of seeing Emilya
and taking her to BuchinoK. He wanted to postpone his
interview with Zavilovski until the next day, but on re-
calling that Ignati, not finding him in, might repair to
his country-house, he resolved to await him.

'' No ; it is better he should learn everything here," he
said aloud. " Marinya is in such a condition that the
affair must be kept a secret from her. Everybody must
be warned to piesei've silence on the subject in her pres-
ence. It were best that Zavilovski went abroad. I would
then tell her tliat he quarreled with his bride in Schev-
ningen and left her."

He again began to pace the room, repeating :

" Irony of fate, the comedy of life ! "

Suddenly the bell at tlie entrance rang. Polanetzki felt
his heart flutter at the sound. He forgot his appointment
with Svirski to breakfast together, and was sure that Zav-
ilovski was coming up the stairs. He sighed with relief
on recognizing the painter's voice ; still, he was so wearied
that his arrival displeased him.

" He will let his tongue loose," he remarked angrily to
himself.

Nevertheless, lie decided to disclose everything, becau' e
it could not be kei)t a se(;ret; and then he wanted to im-
press on tlie painter the necessity of being careful, in case
he should happen to be in Buchinok. But he was miis-

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taken that the artist would weary him with his theories
oil woman's faithlessness. Tie simply exchaimecl on hear-
ing the news; "A misfortune; an awful misfortune!
The devil may take them all ! " and he clenched his her-
culean lists in rage.

Meanwhile, Polanetzki began to denounce Linetti in
the most uncompromising terms, forgetting that he was
announcing liis own conviction by doing so. In general,
this conversation relieved liim, and liis usual presence of
mind returned. Deciding not to leave Zavilovski alone,
lie asked Svirski to take Panni Chavastovska to Buchinok,
and to explain his absence to Marinya as a business en-
gagement. Svirski readily consented, and they were soon
driving in a cab to Emilya.

They found her very emaciated, with a transparent face
and drooping eyelids. She could walk only with the help
of crutches. Heretofore toil l)ound her to life, illness now
was severing her from it. But she did not suffer ; this
was consideied a bad omen by the physicians. As a Sister
of Mercy, she was familiar with disease, and understood
now that there was no hope of recovery. But this was
rather a comforting thought to her. Death was really
welcome to her. She even refused to go to Lourdes,
notwithstanding her firm conviction that recovery would
speedily follow this pilgrimage. She v/as perfectly con-
tented to remain near the grave of the ever-lamented
Lida, and drift gradually into the unknown.

Nevertlieless, she smiled with pleasure at the prospect
of seeing Marinya again. Svirski was to call for her at
five o'clock, in anticipation of which he went with Pola-
netzki to a restaurant to appease his hunger. At the
table Polanetzki said :

" You'll liave the kindness to do me another favor.
Tell Helena of the occurrence, and mention to her that my
wife must be kept in ignorance of it."

" Very well, this \eiy day, PU walk down to Jasminovka
and try to see her. . . . By the way, did Osnovski tell
you whether Patkovska went along with them or remains
in Pritulovo ? "

" No, he did not. But Ratkovska usually resides witli
her old relative Melnitzka. If she accompanies them

533

abroad, it will only be for tbe sake of diverting Panni
Osnovska, whose angelic soul is shocked with tlio late
happening, so absolutely foreign to her pure iKitiiic"'

" Ah ! "

" Why, Ratkovska stayed with the Osnovski lu.ly be-
cause Kopovski apparently courted her; but since he l;as
the consent of another, there is no reason for hei lo re-
main with them."

" II all sounds to me like a fable ! " exclaimed Svirski.
" So all those women, with the exception of Orfiiovski,
were in love with that hoopoe ? "

Polanetzki smiled ironically, and shook his head as if
saying : " Without exception, v/ithout exception ! "

Now Svirski also began his theorizing on the subject of
woman :

" I know women, German, French and cliiefly Italians.
There is more impulsiveness in the latter, tliey are less
developed, but more sincere and simpler. iMay this
maccaroni stick in my throat if I ever saw among them
such false pretenses, sham and discord. If you only knew
what Ratkovska said of that Kopovski ! . . . Or even
tliis ' Linetti,' or 'Swan,' or what was slie not named —
Castelli — a real lily, a mimosa, a Sybil — and wliom did
she select? Not a man, but a dude, a wax doll. As soon
as it came to a test how speedily our Sybil turned into a
servant girl.

Svirski clenched his gigantic fist and prepared to drop
it on the table, but Polanetzki caught his hand and said :

" But you must admit that there are exceptions among
them."

Svirski contended that "they are all alike," and gradu-
idly grew open to conviction.

"Do you renienil)er what I said when you asked me
about the Bronichs ? " continued Svirski. " Canaille, pos-
itively, canaille ! . . . No principles, no character — in a
word, upstarts, tlial's all I . . . He was a fool, and she —
you know vourself. But, as God is holy, I'll go with
Zavilovski abroad ! . . . Knouofh of this."

They left the reslauiant.

"What will you do now?" inquired Svirski in the
street."

" Will look for

iivi

lovski

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"• But where will you find liiin

5»

*' I expect to meet him in the Insane Asylum with his
f'lllier."

Just then Svirski saw Zavilovski from afar.

*^Why, here he is coming," he exclaimed.

'^ Where?"

"On the olliur side; of llie street. I could reco2fni/.o
him for a mile by liis jaw. I will retire, — this is best told
without witnesses."

"All riLi-lil," reMlied Polanetzki.

Zavilovski al>' j observed them and hastened his stop ;
he was smart Iv dressed and almost Q-ay.

" My fatiic'i- feels better," he said holdintr out his hands
to them. "Now I am fiee, and can go to Pritulovo."

Svirski [)ressed liis liand and left silently. Zavilovski
glanced at him witli sur})riso and inquired:

"Is he not offended at sometliing?"

He looked at Polanetzki and observed that his face was
also grave.

"What does it mean, has anything happened?" he in-
quired. Polanetzki took his arm, and said in an agitated
tone :

" Listen, Tgnati. I always considered you not ot:1/ as a
capable man, but also as one endowed with an exceptional
character. I must impart to you some very unpleasant
news, but I am confident that you are sufficiently firm to
bear tlie calamity."

" What has occurred ? " he stammered, pale with fright.

Polanetzki hailed a cab.

" Let us get in," he said to Zavilovski. " To the
bridge !" lie added, turning to the driver. After a wliile
he took from his pocket Osnovski's letter, and gave it to
Zavilovski.

Tlu! latter hurriedl}^ tore tlie envelope and began to
read. Polani^tzki compassionately placed his arm around
liis waist. He did not take Ids eyes from the young
man's face, on which now surprise, now incredulity, now
fear in tnrn a[)|)e;ired. It was ap])arent tliat thougli he
felt the misfortune, there was still a lurking hope in him.
He finally raised his eyes, and stammered out :

r.-i

).».>

is?

*'Ts it possible ? How could she ? "

He took off his luit iiiul hc^au to snioolh liis luiir.
Meiinwhile, PohiiietzKi inter{)(>s('(l :

*• I (h)irt exactly know wliat Osnovski has written to
voii, l)iit it is true. Tliere is no use of oihliii*4 tiie cap-
sule. Have tlie manliness to admit tliat it has occurred,
and it is irretrievable. You were to l)e piticil before, for
she was unworthy of you. Tlieri; are people who sin-
cerely love you. I understand that it is a great misfor-
tune for you. But it is done, my dear Igiiali. They
have gone away, God knows where, tbt; Oskovskis as well,
and there is nobody now in Pritulovo. . . . 'I'here is a
better future for you in store than that with Castelli.
God himself predestined you for that futui'e by bestowing-
on you such great power; why, you aie the chosen of this
-world. You have duties not only to yourself, but to man-
kind as well. Naturally, it is diilicult to forget at once
an object of intense love, and I don't demand it, but you
must not, like a common mortal, succumb to despair."

Polanetzki spoke much longer in this vein, Ijut Zavi-
lovski scarcely heard. He was bewildered, and could not
giv^e himself an account of the terrible occurrence, the suf-
ering, the trampled [)rinci})les ; he was only conscious that
Linetti was no more for him, that slie did not love him,
that she went away with Kopovski, and he was left alone.

He lieard Polanetzki sav : " Svirski — abroad — -Italy —
art;" but he did not understand that Svirski was an ac-
quaintance, abroad — departure, and Italy — a country. All
l»is thouo'hts were concentrated on Linetti.

'' It is all very good," he thought, "but wliat will it be
to me now? How did you forget me and my love — wliy
there was such a bond between us, and I am still the
same, your own ! " And suddenly his protruding jaw
trembled, the veins in his forehead swelled, and a tear
rolled down his ch<iek. Overpowered by that keen
agony, Polanetzki wound liis arm around Ins neck, and
becran to kiss him. Zavilovski came to himself, and his
face seemed })aralyzed ; just then the thought occurred to
liim that it would not be so terrible if Linetti had died.
Death leaves, at least, to Ixilievers, a liope of a mutual
life in the other world, and to infidels — of a mutual non-

*■' '- -^ 1

530

.,5'

;:2i

existence, therefore, a common fate. But Linetti de-
prived him of everything : hope, the right to love, respect,
compassion.

Meanwliile, Pohinetzki continued:

" Go with Svirski to Italy. . . . Tlie world is larqe,
and you'll find in it many objects of interest and love.
Everytliing is open before you. You'll experience new
impressions that will divert and relieve you. Svirski will
sliow you the whole of Italy, open for you new iiorizons.
He is an excellent comrade. You must leave immedi-
ately. This is the advice of a sincere and devoted friend.
In the spring we — I mean Marinya and myself — will
probably go there; you'll see liow nicely we'll get along
together. Do you promise to leave?"

*' Well," Zavilovski answered mechanically, not com-
prehending what was demanded of him.

"If this be the case, let us return to town and pass the
evening together."

Polanetzki ordered the driver to return.

" Where will we go — to your or to my place ? "

The noise and movement of the cab sobered Zavilovski
a little, for he now looked at Polanetzki sensibly, and re-
plied freely :

* Since yesterday I have not been at home ; I passed
the ni.i^ht with father. Let us drive to my house ; per-
liaps there are some letters."

Zavilovski found a letter from Panni Bionich awaiting
him. The young man opened it with feverish haste, and
becfan to read. Polanetzki watched his face and re-
fleeted.

*" Probably there is still a lingering hope in him."

He recalled the words of the physician, who in his time
remarked about Kraslovska :

'^ I know what she is, but cannot tear my heart away
from her ! "

Zavilovski finished, rested his head on his hands and
stared stupidly at the pa])ers on the table. Then, as if
coming to liimself, he said to Polanetzki:

*' Read ! "

Polanetzki took the letter and read :

"I know you believed in your feelings toward Linetti,

f-,'' -sf '»

o37

lie

and what has happened will, at the first moment, appear
to you a misfortune ; but, believe me, that it was ditlicult
for me, as well as for her, to make the decisive step. Pos-
sibly, you will not be able to appreciate Linetti (a good
deal cajinot be appreciated by men,) but still you must
know liow painful it always was for her to cause the slightest
un[)leasantMess,even to a stranger. But what could be done?
This is (lod's will, which must be obeyed. We act ac-
cording to the demands of our conscience. Linetti is too
honest to give her hand without her love. This occurrence
will be a lesson to you as well as to her. If she married
you without love, she could hardly Jifterwards witlistand
the temptation of a corrupt world, liesides, you have talent,
while Linetti possesses only a lieai I that could be broken
at any moment. But if it seems to you tliat she deceiver
you, tell me sincerely : who is more to blame ? You
caused a great deal of harm to Linetti by subduing her
free will and not allowing her to follow the inclinations of
her heart; for the sake of satisfying your egotism, you
were ready to sacrifice her. But this being the ease, I am
certain she would not live with you one year. Well, may
God forgive you, as we do ! '* Have the kindness to re-
turn the ring to the Osnovskis, your ring you will obtain
from Katkovska. Once more, may God forgive you and not
de^jrive you of His benevolence and protection."

"' Well, this exceeds all limits of decency," exclaimed
Polanetzki.

" I suppose truth can be treated in tlie same way as
love," replied Zavilovski with despairing sadness.

'^ Listen, Ignati, this is now not only a questioji of
misfortune, but also of your dignity. You may suffer as
much as you will, but you must show that you spit on
them."

A h)ng ])ause ensued. Polanetzki, recalling the word-
ing of the letter, repeated several times:

'' 'i'liis is beyond anyone's comprehension ! . . . Never-
theless." lie added, turning to Zavilovski, '" Svirski on his
return from Huchinok will step in to see me. Let us pass
the evening together and talk of the journey."

''No, I can't, Uh- I promised my father to pass the night
with him. We will see each other to-morrow."

r)38

u«v:'

'it;'.

(',1*

Pol.inetzki thouir]it tliiit fitteiidaiice on the sick wniild
possibly divert his tlioii^lits t'lom Liiietti, Jiiid fjitii^iic
would dispose liiin io sleep. He aeeoiii});iiiied the yoiiiM'-
man to the <r;itii of the institution and look liis leave.

Zavilovski, havin<( pansed there a few minutes and in-
qnired of tin; mirse ahont his father's health, retniiit-d
stealthily lionie. He lit a candle, reread Hronic.'h's letter
and eoverintif his face with both hands hei;an to relleet.

"•Tlius, Linetti is no more, no fntnre, no liappiness,
Kopovski took possession of everything! Thoiioh sliu
avowed love to me, it was in leality for him!" He re-
called how slie shuddered in his embrace after theengaoc-
nient. So now she is trembling in Kopovski's arms ! At
tliis thonglit he grasped his handkerchief, thrust it in his
mouth ;ind clenched his teeth, so as not to scream with
pain and despair.

" What does it mean? " he exclaimed. " Of what crime
am I Gfuiltv before her ? "

He clutched the letter again, wildly glancing at it here
and there, as if tiying to find an answer to tliat dreadful
question. But there was no reply, and lie felt truth blend-
ing with lies, goodness with evil, a turmoil of misery,
wretchedness.

''How could you admit that I will bear this parting?"

m'-

6o0

XL.

Four days after tlie events detailed in the last chapter,
the Bigels and Svirski came to Bucliinok. It was Marinya's
birthday. Panni '-ohiiielzki was at vespers in Jasniin-
ovka's church. On learning this, Panni Bigel with the
children also repaired there. The men, left alone, began
to converse about the latest evrul, tlie attempted suicide
of Zavilovski, which was the topic of the day in the whole
town.

'* To-day I was there for the third time," said Bigel,
'* but tlie servants had strict orders not to admit anyone
except ph3^sicians."

''I was not admitted either," returned Polanetzki, "the
first two days, though I finally succeeded in passing a few
hours with him."

"Will.you tell me how it ha[»])encd ? " inquiied Bigel,
desirous to know all details and pass judgment.

"After our conversation, when I handed him Osnov-
ski's letter, I invited him to pass the' evening with me,
but he refused, under the pretext of having to see his
father. It ap[)ears now tluit lie simply wanted to get
rid of me, to have perfect liberty to blow his biains out."

''So you were the first to learn of it ? "

"No; I did not think such an occurrence as likely
to hap2)en, and patiently awaited till morning. Fortu-
nately, Helena Zavilovski came ; she was informed of his
trouble, and drove immediately to see him."

" It was I who communicated it to her," declared Svirski.
" She was terribly affected."

" That Helena is a rem-rkable girl," observed Polanetzki.
"T im still ignorant how it hapjxMicd, but she \\ as the fii'st
to lender assistance. Phvhicnans were called, and she
Oidored him to be taken co her liouse."

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*' And what is the professional opinion ? Will he live ? '*

'-'• The physicians cannot decide yet. His hand prob-
ably trembled, and the buUei iiaving pierced the foiehead
lodged under the scal[: at tlie side of the head. It was
located and extracted, but it is still an open question if ho
will live, or retain his memory and reasoning faculties in
case lie survives."

Although tliey were all familiar with the event through
the newspapers, the intelligence produced a most distress-
ing effect upon Jie listeners. Svirski, v»dio, notwithstand-
ing his athletic frame, had the lieart of a woman, gi'ew pale.

" And all this on account of a worthless girl," he ex-
claimed.

"And you did not suspect an^'thing?" inquired Bigel,
turning to Polanetzki.

" The thought of suicide never occurred to me. Of
course, I noticed his despair, and during our ride I ob-
Ewrved how his chin trembled, as if he were ready to burst
into tears. But you know his pride. He soon gained
control over liis emotions, and appeared outwardly quite
calm. I think," he continued, after a short silence, "that
Broiiica's letter was the List straw that broke the camel's
back. I read it. It is full of rebukes and forgiveness
for the evildoers, who stifled their natural inclination — an
absurd epistle. I noticed the effect it produced on him.
He understood that everything could be corrupted,
trampled under the feet — reason, truth, the very founda-
tions of justice, and then this vandalism ascribed to God's
will. It cut even me to the quick. Such blatant cynicism
and absence of all moral sense ! "

And he nervously pulled at his beard ; meanwhile,
Svirski remarked :

" I think in such cases the most pious is apt to send
everything to the devil."

" Yes, there are some," Vaskovski was heard to say as
if to himself, " who believe not out of the goodness of
their hearts, but sim[)l3^ through despair, as if their athe-
ism exhausted itself. Whoever supposes that behind the
heaveidy phenomena exists nof God, but something un-
known, inaci'ossiblc, ma}' just as well claim that every-
thing is chance, accident, and the unseen Being only an

541

abstraction that cannot be loved ; then, of course, it is
easy to blaspheme."

•'AH this is beautiful," retorted Svirzki, *'but in
the meantime. Zavilovski lies there with a wounded head,
while they are traveling somewhere beyond the seas, feel-
ing undonbledly very comfortable."

'" And I Y/ill tell 3'ou that they are miserable," returned
Vaskovski. " At first they'll try to persuade themselves,
but will nt ver regain their self-respect, and little by little
will grow ■:o despise, even hate, themselves."

''Oil, le^: them go " repeated Svirski.

In the meantime, Bigel sjioke to Polanetzki, admiring
the kindness and energy of Helena Zavilovski.

''Tliis will probably give rise to tales," said Bigel.

"Well, she little cares for that," replied Polanetzki.
" She has no accounts with the world, and demands notli-
ing of it. Helena is also very proud. Tiie girl was
always kindly disposed to him, and the attempted suicide,
therefore, unsettled her. . . . You remember the incident
with Ploshovski?"

" I knew him personally," returned Svirski. " They
sav Helena was enoao-ed to him."

"No, she was not; but probably loved him secretly.
Such is her fate! After his death slie changed com-
pletely. For a believer as that girl is, tlie suicide must
liave been a terrible blow. . . . Tliat one, and now an-
other I . . . Certainly, she will do everything in her
power to save him. I saw her yesterda}'. She was almost
half dead with fatigue — pale as a ghost. Tliough there
are a good many others to nurse him, she would not leave
hi^j bedside. Ratkovska told me that she had not slept
more than one hour in four days."

" Ratkovska?" inquired Svirski with great animation.

"• Yes, I forgot to tell you tliat she is tliere witli Helena.
As soon as she learned of tlie suicide she innnediately
went to Zavilovski and begged i)ermission to attiiiid the
sick. Slie is now more like a shadow tlian a human being."

" So, Ratkovska is there!" repeated Svirski, and me-
chanically putting his hand in his pocket took out her
letter.

Now he recalled her words : " Therefore, I have de-

542

Mil

•'iv'--'

cided otherwise. If I can never be liappy, at least, let me
feel that I was not insincere." He understood now the
real meaning of the words. Notwithstanding all possihle
gossip, worldly decorum, her youth, she went o nuisu
Zavilovski. It was clear now. If she were indifferent to
him the girl would not attend him like a Sister of Mercy.

"No, methinks I am a I'eal jackass," murmured Sviiski,
and anguisli took a firm hold of him. He was again yearn-
ing for Jiatkovska. He did not know what to do wiili
himself.

" I missed it, old dotard that I am ! " he tliought. " Well,
it serves you I'ight ! A decent man would feel compassion,
while you begin to grind your teeth, denounce hei* fancied
love for that fool, to slander her. Yes, you deserve it well,
you jackass ! You are not worthy of her."

Tliere was a deal of truth in these self-accusations.
Svirski was iiot in love with Ratkovska, but her refusal
cut him deeper than he knew. Not being able to contiol
liis affliction he began to denounce women as exemplified
by Ratkovska. Now he understood the absurdity of his
deductions.

" 1 deserve it well," he repeated, " if such a girl is not
ten times higher than myself, the sun is but wortliy to
light my pi])e. She was certainly justified in rejecting
such a bull-dog as I ! What a girl ! Even by her refusal
she did me a favor. With one phrase she set at nauglit
all my theories on women. . . . But I shall see her and
tell her my opinion, even if Panna Zavilovski orders a
regiment of dragoons to guard the house. ..."

The next day he repaired to Jasminovska. At first,
they would not admit him, but he insisted, and finally
gained his point. Helena, who thought him im})elled
there by compassion and a desire to see Ignati, took him
even into the sick-room. The blinds were down, and
there was a strong- odor of drno-s. Both women sat attlie
bedside, emaciated, broken dov;n, and scarcely i-esembling
their former selves. Zavilovski lay there witli month
open, eyelids swollen and liardly seen from under the band-
ages. He was completely changed — old — haggard.
Svirski was surprised, and in a half audible voice inquired
of Helena,

(;

543

»»

*' Has he not regained consciousness yet ?

'' No," slie replied in a wliisper.

** What does the physician say ? "

Helena waved her thin arm as if to say that they had
not arrived yet at any definite conclusion ; after a while
she whispered ag-ain :

^^iL's tlie iiftii day/'

*' But the fever is dec^reasing," added Ratkovska.

Svirski wanted to offer his services in the sick-room,
hut Helena })ointed with her eyes at a young physician
whom he had not observed in the semi-darkness.

" Weliave tw^o doctors," whispered Ratkovska, " besides
some skilful nurses. '

" Still you are so worn out."

*' It can't be hel])ed, . . . his life depends upon it,"
replied Ratkovska, throwing an anxious glance at the sick
man.

Wishing to instill some courage into the hearts of the
young women, Svirski said, contrary to his own belief :

"• With such wounds one dies quickly or eventually re-
covers."

Helena did not reply, but her face grew dark and the
lips [)ale. Evidently, the thought occurred to her that he
would die, but she would not despair.

Svirski began to take leave of them. He deemed it in-
a[)propriate at the siglit of sach a tragedy to s})eak to
Stephanie on the subject that brought him there. On
coming out on the stieet lie recalled Zavilovski with his
head bandaged, ciianged and aged. Notwithstanding all
his compassion he suddenly felt indignant :

" H'm !" he grnnd)led, '' bx'oke his skull ; . . . and those
kind ladies turn their souls inside out and trend)le like
leaves over him."

A feeling of envy and commiseration for himself stole
upon him.

"^ Well, and if you, old fellow, were to send a lump of
lead through your brain, who would tend you and walk
on their toes before you ? "

These meditations weie interrupted by Plavitski whom
he met at a turn of the street.

" And I am just from Carlsbad," uttered Plavitski.

•?1

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544

Ah, how many beautiful women are there ! . . . I am jrc
mg to Buchinok. ... I have already met my son-in-law
and learned that Marinya is hale and hearty. . . . But he
seems :3t) depressed, discouraged."

;^ Yes, some unpleasant things have happened. .
Did you hear of Zavilovski ? "

-Yes.^ Well, how is he? What do you think of

It ; . , ,

"Misfortune! . . ."
^ " Yes, a misfortune . . . and it's all due to those new
inventions, your atheisms, hypnotism, socialism. ... Our
youtli hav» flo hrm foundations, that's what it is. . . ."

V''^'

545

CHAPTER XLI.

PoLANETZKi, Oppressed by the late events, forgot his
promise to Osnovski to wiite liow Zavilovski bore his
calaniit}'. But Osnovski, w^o learned of the fatal occur-
rence through the Jiewspapers, inquired daily by the cable,
.IS to how Zavilovski got on. For a long time Polanetzki
was unable to communicate anything definite or comfort-
ing. Only after two weeks had passed did he inform
Osnovski that Ignati was fairly on the road to recovery.

Osnovski replied with a long letter in which he detailed
to him different items of news from Ostende.

" I am very thankful for the information," he wrote. *' So
the dancrer is over? I cannot describe what a burden
your information took from my heavt. Tell Ignati that
not only I, but my wife as well, received with tears of joy
tlie happy news of his recovery. Anette thinks of nobody
and nothing else now. Oh, you don't know what women
tliere are. Volumes could be written of them ! Anette is
an exception, and you can hardly imagine how Ignati oc-
cupies lier thoughts now. But, thank God, Zavilovski is
beyond danger ! "

III spite of the autumn weather, Panni Polanetzki still
remained in Buchinok, and her liusband, after receiving the
letter, went first to Bigel where he dined and read the
epistle.

— '' It is comforting," remarked Panni Bigel, '* that
Castelli is going to many Kopovski. Otherwise we might
fear that Ignati would return to her, when he is well
again."

— '* No, Zavilovski is, after all, a man of strong will,"
objected Bigel, " and it seems to me that he will never do
that. What is your opinion, Stach ? '

Bigel had become so used to ask Polanetzki's advice in

*:. ■vill

■"♦/.

646

i -' V

/I- ■

r?5r ' T. " 1

ill iiffairs, that even in this matter he could not dispense

\vi

Ih 1

lis

inioii.

— '' To tell you the truth," answered Polanetzki, " I can-
not vouch for him. I liave lost my faitli in mankind. I
Iiave had a good deal of experience in my life and wit-
nessed so many extraordinary occuri-ences."

And, saying this, he remembered the expression : '* I
know what kind of a woman she is, but my lieart is with
her."

— '' And if you were in liis place would you return?"
asked Bioel.

— '' Probably not, but I am not sure of that. At any
rate I would not send a bullet into my liead. But after
all, I cainiot vouch for myself."

lie said it with evident displeasure, as it occurred to
him that he, indeed, was not sure of himself.

— '* 1 don't know what I would give merely to see
Zavilovski," broke in Panni Bigel ; "• but it seems easier
to take a fortress than to enter his room. I don't under-
stand why Helena is guarding him so rigorously, even
itgainst such devoted friends as we are."

— *' Because the doctor has prescribed absolute quiet.
Besides, since he has regained his reason, it is i)ainful to
liim to see even his nearest friends. And that is clear, lie
cannot speak of his act, but he sees that everybody around
him ihiidvs constantly of it."

— '• Do you see him every day? "

— '•'• Yes, I am admitted, as I was somehow implicated
in the matter from the beginning."

— '^ Well, does he renunnber the girl ? "

— " No, I ([uestioned Helena and Steplianie about it.
And I myself have not heard him mention her, although
I have passed hours sitting near liis bed. Itis veryqueei',
he is conscious and knows that he is wounded and sick,
but it ap[)ears that he does not remember any tiling. The
doctors say it is always the case witli wounds in the head.
But he recognizes everybody, and is very grateful to
Helena and Panna Ratkovska. He is especially attached
to the latter, and he seems sad whenever she leaves him,
even for a minute. Both of them, it goes without saying,
are extremely kind-hearted women."

mmmm

547

— " Most of all, Panna Ratkovska is a surprise to me,"
said Painii Bi^^el.

— " Thinking of it, I came to the conclusion that she
had fallen in love with him," observed Higel.

— " Well, it is useless to lose time by lliinking," an-
swered Pohmetzki, " when it's as clear as the sun. The
poor gill tried hard to conceal her feeling until the trouble
tjame. For that reason she refused Svirski. This is not
a secret, as Svirski himself confesses it. When Zavil-
ovski made the attempt to end his life, and she learned
that Helena had taken him to her liouse, she went imme-
diately and begged her to allow her to help nurse tlie
wounded man. Everybody understands that it is doubt-
f nl, but slie does not pa}' any attention to tlieir opinions ;
and it is the same with Helena. You say," added he,
turning to Panni Bigel, "tliat Painia Ratkovska surprises
you, but consider, what a tragic being Helena is. Zavil-
ovski is, after all, living, but Ploslikovski did not miss,
and is among the dead. According to her notions and
superstitions, his soul is condenuied forever, but, never-
theless, she loves him still. Isn't it tragic in tlu highest
degree ? And then, after this suicide, there happens
another that opens the liardly healed wounds and causes
painfnl recollections. Panna Ratkovska is disturbed and
excited, but Helena's life is broken, and without hope."

" True ; but she is probably attached to Ignati, as she
is nursing him so devotedly."

— '* That is clear ; by saving Zavilovski she hopes to
obtain the Almighty's mercy for Ploslikovski."

— " Maybe Zavilovski will marry Panna Ratkovska
when he recovers."

— " Yes, if he can forget the other, and will recover."

'* How is that? You said tliat he will surely recover."

— "■ Yes ; but it is hard to tell if there will not be fatal
complications, and if he will retain all his faculties.
Bear in mind that he shot himself in tlic head. . . ."

The conversation was interiupted by a servant, wlio
brouglit a letter from [Masliko to Polanetzki. He opened
it an 1 read :

*' 1 must see you on account of your affair. Will v/ait
on you until five."

'■ ' il

548

If!,

',i(
,.,j J

** Affairs and affairs ! " exclaimed Bigel, when lie
learned that the letter was from Masliko. "'I ani really
surprised how he manages tliem all. liy the way, do you
know that Panni Kraslovska is now entirely blind? It
fills one with pity to look at her."

— "■ Misfortune is a good school in which to teach men,"
said Panni Bigel. " You know that we always consid-
ered Panni Mas^ '0 as a cold, unfeeling being; but it is
remarkable h. • -voted she is to her mother. I confess I
did not exi ; fiom her. And Panni Kraslovska

has also changed fo he better; slie is not proud and
haughty as formerly. It is really very pleasant to see
how they love eacli otlier. Anyhow, it proves that we
failed to find something good in Panni Mashko's cliar-
acter."

— " Yes, they were incensed at the behavior of Castelli,"
added Bigel, '*and Panni Kraslovska told me that if her
Theresa should act thus, she would renounce her, thou^li
blind and helpless. Panni Mashko is a woman of a better
kind."

Polanetzki was not at his ease when Panni Mashko l)e-
came the topic of conversation, and he took his leave. lie
did not wish to think of her, and was wondering what her
husband had to tell him.

*' He v/ants money again," decided Polanetzki.

But lie was mistaken. Mashko was on the edge of an
abyss, cand he came to confess it to Polanetzki.

— '^ I am irrecoverably lost," began Mashko, looking
sharply at his old friend to observe the effect of his con'
fession.

— "Have you lost the case?"

— " Not yet, but I will lose it in a couple of weeks."

— '* Why are you so sure of it?"

— " Well, I have already explained to you the chances
for and against my winning the case. It is useless to re-
peat tliem, and all these cavils will only confuse you.
Perliaps T could succeed in evading tlie law, if my op-
ponent should not prove too strong for me. He is not
only an experienced and able lawyer, but my bitter enemy,
bent on ruining me. I once insulted him, and lie now
takes his revenge. In short, as matters stand, he will

I-

and ;
fall I

you,

fjVJ

have as easy a \ictory over me as I would have had ovei
him, were I in his phice."

— '* You will appeal tlieu?"

—''No, I can't do thiit."

— "VVliy?"

— '• Because I have more debts than hairs on my head,
and as soon as my creditors learn of my defeat, tliey will
fall u[)on me like birds of prey, and I will be forced to

fly."

He sighed deeply, and after a short silence added :

— '*■ I am defeated and ruined ; there is n^ 'lope for me,
but I came to si)eak with j^ou of your own aluiir Listen !
I owe money due your wife after the sale >f . .emen ; I
owe you a few thousand roubles, besides- '\\ annuity of
your father-in-law; and now I must tell yoi tluit in two
weeks I will run away, and vou will ^ot get a single
rouble."

He looked at Polanetzki -with the air of a man who lias
nothing to lose. He expected that Polanetzki would be-
come furious, but in this he was agreeably disappointed.
True, Polanetzki's face grew dark, but he soon suppressed
bis feelings, and said calmly:

— "I always expected such an end."

Mashko, who was expecting that Polanetzki would
seize him by the collar and throw him out, glanced at
liim curiously and thought: "What is the matter with
him ?" But Polanetzki thought: *' If Mashko asks me to
})ay his traveling expenses, I will not be able to refuse
liim."

— ''■Tliis could have been foreseen," ad(l(;d Polanetzki.

— "Oh, no," returned Mashko, who still clung to the
idea that his failure was the result of a chain of unhapp}'
circumstances; "you are mistaken ; as I have already told
you, it could have happened otherwise."

— " But tell me, for Heaven's sake, what do you want
of me ? " asked Polanetzki, losing liis patience.

— ** I don't want anything of you." answered Mashko,
sighing. " I simply came to tell you — a man wlio has
alwaj's been kindly disposed toward me, and to wliom I
owe, not only monej', but gratitude — tliat lam ruined, and
that you should try to save sometliing from the ruins."

iS.-

'i>

:•:?*

550

u::<

Polanetzki gnashed liis teetli, and thought : "• Go to tho
devil with the money and your friendship!" but he said:

— ** I don't see an escape."

— "' There is only one. Nobody knows yet that I will
fail, and my note is still worth something. You can sell
the liouse of your wife under the pretense that you have
resolved to capitalize your property, or something of thu
kind. I will help you, and you can easily find a l)uyL'r
if you will make a lower price. Any Jew will be at-
tracted hy the pros[)ect of gain. Let somebody else be the
loser instead of you. Be sure that the buyer of the house
would not hesitate to sell it, even if lie knew that the
next day it woidd not be worth a broken nail. The world
is a stock exchange, and such things are usually d(jne
there. This is called smartness."

— "No, this is called otherwise. You mentioned the
Jews, and I will therefore tell you that there are things
which they call dirty. No, I will try to save the money
of my wife by other means."

— '* As you like. I fully understand the real meaning
of my advice, but, in spite of that, I resolved to give it
to you. Maybe it is the scrupulousness of a future bank-
rupt, but I can't help it. I hope you understand what it
costs me to speak thus. Anyway, I was convinced that
you would not agree to it, but I wanted to show you the
only visible means of escape. And now, please order a
cup of tea and some brandy for me, as 1 am exhausted."

Polanetzki rang the bell and gave the required order.

— " Many must lose," continued Mashko, " but I prefer
that the losers shall be my enemies and not my friends.
There are circumstances when one becomes callous in le-
gard to his conscience. Maybe it is the moral of a Ri-
naldiiu, but it is a moral, nevertheless."

The servant brought tea and brandy, and Mashko took
a good draught of the brandy, with the evident intention
of raising his spirits.

— " Well," said Polanetzki, "you surely know your pos-
ition better than I do ; and you, of course, have made all
arrangements necessary for your flight. I will, therefore,
only ask you whether you have enough money to accom-
plish it?"

551

— *'I have. After all, it makes a difference whether
you fail lor a liuiidred or a hundred tlioi:sand loubles.
iVnyhovv, 1 thank you iieartily for your interest."

Masliko drank another cup of tea with a good ])oition
of bran(' , and said :

— *'■ Don't think that I am driven by despair to diink.
I am merely tired to death, ami the brandy will stimnlnte
me a little. After all, I have not yet given up the battle,
and 1 am still alive, as you see. Here J have lost every-
thing, but I can make it up somewhere else, in the Orient
or l*aiis. The battle-lield will not be so limited as it is
here. I^ook at tlie liaion liirsch, who had not three hun-
dred francs when lie was obliged to leave his country. I
know that I am a strong, energetic and able man, and
that there is a whole world befoie me. You will see."

— ''Drop the future and let us look at the present," im-
patiently interrupted Polanetzki.

— " Well, now% I will be branded as a scoundrel, and
nobody will think of my losses. My wife's dowry is not
touched, and she is secured. I w^ill go without her, but
I hope we will not be separated long. She does not know
yet of my ruin, and this thought drives me mad."

Mashko dropped his head and sighed deeply.

— " When do you go ? "

— '*I don't know vet, but I'll soon be able to inform
you. Now, I have to ask you a favor : you have just
now offered your services — I will accept them, but not in
money. There is no doubt that after my flight all our
acquaintances will shun my wife, and therefoie I entreat
you to comfort her and take her under your protection.
Will you promise me to do it?"

" It is madness, indeed ! " thought Polanetzki, but an-
swered :

— '* Yes, I will."

— " Thank you. Now, grant me another favor. Y^'ou
have an influence over my ladies, and they will believe
what you say. I ask you, therefore, to justify me in the
eyes of my wife. Explain to her the dift'erence between
dishonesty and misfortune. Indeed, I am not such a
rogue as I will be painted. Consider, I could ruin my
v\ife, but I did all in my power to secure her property; I

8',.. ^\

,■5'^

tb2

ill

■m

nH ■ ■

m^'

could cheat you and get from you two or three tliousinul
roubles, hut I don't want it. You will tell all to my wifu,
and she will believe you. Will you?"

— '^ I will."

Masliko pressed his burning head and shuddered.

— '" This breaks my heart and causes me so mueli piiin.
ful anxiety and suffering," said he. And aoain waniiU
thanking Polauetzki for his kindness and friendship, jiu
went away.

Polauetzki, leaving soon after, took a cab and drove to
Buchinok.

On tlie road to Biicliinok he tliought not only of Masliko
and his fate, but also of himself.

"I also am bankru[)t! " said he, and he was right. This
feelino- tormented him for sonie time and he could not
get rid of it. lie saw around him nothing but misery and
ruin, and could not banish the evil foreboding that ])rt'-
dicted a wretched future, and his heart was heavy. Lately
his nerves were becoming so weak, that he actually gri'W
superstitious. He always returned to Buchinok with the
anticipation of finding some calamity at lionie. 'J\)-day he
came rather late. He found thei'e Maiinya, Emelya and
Vaskovski, who were sitting in the parlor. Marinya was
initiating Panni Chavastovska into the mysteiitjs of some
card tricks. Gazing at her, Polauetzki thought: '• Here
is a ]nu'e, honest soul.

^' You are late to-day ! " said his wife when he kissed
her hand, ''but we delayed supi)er for you."

— " Masliko detained me. Well, what's the news here ? "

"Nothing, all's well."

"And how do you feel?"

"Excellent!"

Polauetzki for the first time since his conversation
with Masliko heaved a sigh of relief.

HJfi?;

653

CHAPTER XLII.

Cold weather set in about the middle of September.
Pohinetzki decorated and freshened up his house with
llowers. He iniagiiiett that he had h)st liis wife's love, but
he was mistaken. He became more distant and polite to
her ; he acted toward her as if she w as his bride and not
his wife. Panna Bigel praised the manner of Marinya and
her husband, and found fault with her own.

— ''With us," she said, ''it was different. In the be-
ginning we loved each other passionately, afterward it
took a long time before we were able to pull together, and
now I would not exchange my old man for all the riches
in the world."

— " That was after the birth of the first child," exclaimed
Marinya. " It seems to me that real love only begins
with that event." _

Panni Bigel laughed :

— " And how funny he acted at the birth of our first
boy ! He looked as if he was gazing at a freak ; then he
came over to me and kissed my hands."

Soon ii. ter the removal of the Polanetzkit; totown news
was suddenly received from Ostende. One morning
Svirski dr(>^)ped into the ofhce like a bomb-shell, and
motioning to Polanetzki and Bigel to follow him into
another room, he mysteriously said:

— "Do you know what has happened? Yesterday I
received a visit from Krasovski, who has just }"eturned
from Ostende. He says that Osnovski has parted fiom
his wife, and gave Kopovski a good thrashing. A terrible
scandal I It is tise talk of Ostende."

His listeners were duni founded at tliij intelligence.
Finally Polanetzki replied :

■i

554

— " It had to happen some time. Osnovski has been
blind."

— '* I cannot understand it," Bigel said, " a teriible story,
who would liave thought it."

— " What does Krasovski say ? "

— "lie says that Osnovski arranged with some iMiglisli-
men to go hunting, but missed his train. You can iiiiagine
wliat he found on his return home, that caused liim to give
Kopovski such a sound beating that the latter is ill in
bed."

— "Osnovski loved liis wife so much that I should think
ifc would (li-ive him insane or provoke him to kill her,"
remarked Bigel.

— " This is a woman's love I " exclaimed Svii'ski.

Polanetzki was silent. Bigel, after walking up and
down the room, said to Svirski :

— " I don't underr.tand it at all."

But Svirski, not replying to Jiim, addressed himself to
Polanetzki :

— " Do you remember what I told vou in Rome at tlie
time your wife was sitting for a poi'trait? I knew that
Panni Osnovski was not woithy o. lier husband's love, but
I never thought she would go so far. Do you think her
jealousy of Castelli had anything to do with it?"

— " You are right," replied Polanetzki, *' Osnovski was
always opposed to Kopovski nuirrying Castelli, and that is
why she tried to marry her off to Zavilovski ; but finding
that she did not succeed in keeping them apait, she tiicd
to gain Kopovski over for herself by all possible means.
It is an old story."

— " Now I begin to comprehend," said Bigel, " but how
sad this all is ! "

" Sad ! " remarked Svirski. " On the contiary, Osnovski
felt very joyous. And how he tried to please her! She
Lad everything ; money, affection, but she trampled it all
under her foot in tlie dirt. After all Castelli is unmarried
— and this one "

— " Have they really parted ? "

—" Very possible, because she has already left. Some-
thing fearful must have happened."

— " I wonder wluit she will do now. Everything is

ki lias Leen
ri'iible story,

me lMi<rlisli-
can iniaoiiic
I liim to givt'
tier is ill in

jhouldtliink

kill her,"

ski.

ing up and

1 himself to

Rome at tlie
[ knew that
id's love, hut
u think her

•

snovski was
, and that is

hilt lindini:'
it, she ti'ied

ible means.

1, " but how

y, Osnovski
her! She
mpled it all
s unmarried

left. Some-
verything is

his," said Bigel, looking at the matter from the practical
point of view.

— '' If he has not killed her outright he will surely
not allow her to starve. He is not that kind of a
man. Krasovski tells me that he remained in Ostendo
to challenge Kopovski, but the latter will l)e confined
to his bed for some time. Castelli and Bronich left for
Paris."

— " And what about Kopovski's marriage? "

— ""Why do you ask? Certainly, after this open
scandal it is impossible. They are all badly left. Let
them now hunt abroad for some prince Kra})ulesko.
After the way they treated poor Ignati no decent man
will take her. Of course Zavilovski will not return to
her."

— " This is what I said to Polanetzki, but he replied :
Who knows.' "

— " Do you really think such a thing possible?"

— *' I don't know. I would not even be responsible for
myself."

— " Maybe yon are right," Svirski replied after looking
at him with surprise. ''If some one would have told me
that the Osnovskis would part I would have called him a
fool."

He took his leave, having promised Krasovski to drive
with liini. Bigel and Polanetzki remained alone.

— " Crime always linds its punishment," remarked Bigel ;
"but do you know what strikes me very forcibly — that
morals w'itli us are getting low. Let us take for instance,
Hi-onich, Osnovski, Castelli — what corru[)ted women they
are, and what is still worse they are foolish, a mixture of
the devil knows what with the manners of hous<Mnaids.
And such men as Osnovski and Zavilovski pay for it often
witli tlieir very lives."

~" This logic is unexplainable," Polanetzki replied
gloomily.

Bigel once more commer.ced his walk from one end of
the room to the other. At last he stopped in front of
Polanetzki with a bright ned face and clap[)ing him on
the shoulder, he said :

— *' But we two, you and I, wi^n great hapniness in life's

'm, '

r.n

lottery. Although we were not saints in onr time, yet no
doubt our luck came to us as a reward for not trying to
undei'niine somebody else's family liappiness."

Polanetzki did Jiot repl\' and soon left to goliome, wheie
a note, sent b}'' Helena Zavilovski, awaited his coniiiio-,
and invited liim to come to her after dinner.

— "Is Ignati worse?" inquired Marinya.

— *' No, I saw liim this morning, but could not see He-
lena, as she was occupied with tlie notary Kanoiievitz ; but
I saw Ratkovska and Zavilovski. He spoke to me and
seemed quite livel}'."

At dinner Polanetzki decided to tell his wife the news,
because it was, after all, impossible to hide it. Some one
will undoubtedly tell hei', and then it will be worse. And
when she asked him about the news in the oOice, he re-
plied :

— " In the office nothing, but in the city they say that
things are not as they should be between the Os-
novskis."

— " Osnovskis ? "

— " Yes, something happened in Ostende, and it seems
that the fault lay with Kopovski."

• — " What is it ? " she asked, blusliing for curiosity.

— " I tell you what I heard. It is vory unfortunate."

— " But you told me that Kopovski was engaged to
Linette."

— " So he was, but now it is all ended."

Marinya was very sorry for Osnovski and spoke with
bitterness of his wife.

— " I thought that he would win her love in time, but
now I see that she was not worthy to be his wife. Svirski
was seemingl}' right when speaking badly of women."

Plavitska, who came in at that time to share the news with
his friends after an early dinner at the restaurant, could
tell them nothing new, and Polanetzki was glad that he
was the first to impart the news to liis wife, for the story
as now told by the old man could do nuudi less hunn.
Despite V. hat he said to the contrary, the old man seemed
to be really glad of the news. It made everything in the
city livelier.

— " You can say what you please," he said in conclusion,

MfMIW

tlie news,

Some one

orse. Aiitl

ice, he re-

!y say that
u the Os-

\ it seems

■osity.
til mite."
iigaged to

poke with

time, hut
i. Svirski
omen."
news with
•ant, coukl
!id that he

the storv
hiSs Imrni.
an seemed
h\g in tlie

lonclusion,

557

" but Panni Ooiiovski is a good one. She got square with
every one. Poor Osnovski ! "

and

son-

The okl man looked intently at his daugliter
in-law to see wliat impression his words made upon them.
But Marinya's face showed only great uneasiness.

— ** How nasty and dirty it all is I " she said.

658

CHAPTER XLIII.

PoLANETZKi called on Zavilovski after dinner and
found him listening to Ratkovski, who was reading fiuiii
a book of poetry. At liis entrance she closed the hook.

— ''Good evening. Did I disturb your reading? What
book is that ? "

Ratkovska looked at the book and shook her lit^id with
its sliort hair, which she had cut so that it would not in-
terfere with her attendance on Zavilovski during his
illness.

— '' Poetry by Pan Zavilovski," she replied.

— '• So you listen to the reading of your own poems ! "
lau(2rhed Polanetzki. " Well, how do voii like them '? "

— '' Like those of a stranger," replied the invalic stut-
teringly ; "• but I will resunc ..^y writing as soon as I get
better."

Helena entered the room.

— " I am very glad you came," she greeted Polanetzki.
*'l want to consult with you."

— '' I am at your service."

— " Have the goodness to come with me."

She led the way into another room, where she showed
him a seat and sat down. For a time she was silent, as if
collecting her thoughts, then she began in her cold and
resolute voice :

— " I do not need your advice personally. All I want
18 to ask your help for my cousin. You know that at my
fatlktr's (^'^atli J \, anted to choose another path in life, but
then this misfortune liappenedto my cousin, and of course
I couhl n<^t leave my relative at such a time. Now wlien
he ii hotter T want to go my wity, h?aving him the greatcsfe
|ij.rl f:i the fortune my lather lei't me. I believe father
meant him to have it, and he would have surely made

r)59

liner '.umI
ling from
le book,
g? Wluit

licad with
(1 not in-
uring his

poems ! "
hem ? "
aht stut-
n as I get

olanetzki.

e showed

lent, as if

eoUl ami

11 I want

lat at my

n life, bill

of eonrst'

\)\V wllL'll

«• orealt'st
ve lather
ely made

that disposition of it if he had succeeded in making his
will. I will keep more than enough for myself and Rat-
kovski. Knowing your friendship for my relative, I beg
of you to tell Ignati tliat everything now belongs to him.
The physicians say good news will onl}- benefit him ; so
much tlie better. 1 want him to have the papers immedi-
ately," she concluded, with a smile on her pale lips.

Polanetzki sliook her hand and inquired with a voice
full of agitation.

— '• Pardon me, but I would like to ask you one ques-
tion : What do you intend to do witli yourself?"

Slie seemingly did not care to reply to his question at
once, because she said hesitatinolv :

—'•'• Every one has a right to do with himself what lie
choose, and intrust himself to the care of God. Ignati is
still very young and good-hearted ; I ho\te the great for-
tune will not spoil him. I have done everything possible
to save his life and encourage his love of work. Let lUia
write as heretofore and com[tensate society not only for
the shortcomings of himself, but also of those who ruined
themselves and their capabilities."

She was quite excited. Her lips grew jialer and it
seemed as if she was going to break down ; but she t^i .n
recovered, and only her clinched hands showed what a
struoo-le it had cost her.

— '' Certainly, this will make a great cl ige in Ignati's
life," remarked Polanetzki, trying to make her see life
from the [)ractical })oint of view. " T ho- e your kindness
will be for his good. Knowing him one cannot think
otherwise, but could you not postpone i for a year or six
montlis? "

— - Why ? "

— *' For reasons wholly independent of Fgnati, but hav-
inir some connection with him. You must have heard
that the marriage of Ko[)ovski and Castelli will never take
place. The situation the two women re placed in is
terrible. 'I'ht^v h;ive :ie(]uire(l a bad reputation by sever-
ing llieir relation witii IijMiali, now they will see a Ava}'
out of it. Heariu'"' o'i his newlv-ae(iuii(M] liehes tliev will
try to catch liim again in their net, and after such a fear-
ful rupture."

500

{'if :

Helena looked at Polaiietzki intently, and after thinkinpr
for a moment replied :

— *' I think Ignati will act quite differently."

— " I know what you mean, but you must not fornjet
that lie loved her so that he did not care to live after her
parting."

Helena, who could always master lier feelings, entiiely
lost control of herself, and helplessly spread out lier hands.

— "7\ndwhat of that!" she exclaimed. " If she con-
tains all his happiness ! — No, no, he will not do it ! — Theie
are things in which a man is entirely helpless and which
are necessary to his life — but I think he will find a better
way."

— "Well, I did not exi)cct to hear you speak in that
way ; hut if you think so, let us go to Ignati."

Zavilovski received the information of his inheritance
with grent surprise and joy ; but it seemed as if his joy was
hollow, and he only rejoiced because he was expected to.
He tiieu to find out what Helena intended to do, but not
receiving a delinite reply he kissed her hands; and with
tears in his eyes [)rom sed her to resume his writing as soon
as he got well. Helena spoke to him as a mother would
liave done : tclliuLT him that she considered herself a oiiest
in his house and would leave him in two davs. Havinof
prevailed upon lier to remain with liim at least for another
week, he became very happy. But towai-d evening, as if
recalling something, he looked around him with surprise,
and said :

— " Stvjinqo, \t seems to me as if all this happened once
before."

To give the co.ivf -sation another turn Polanetzki said
lau£^hin<''ly ~

— " Perha wlien you inhabited other planets. '

- >' Ves, t. is occurred to me once before," Ignati in-
sisted.

- -" Did you write your verres on the moon ? "
Zavilovski took the book from tlie table and said:
— " Let mc only get well, and I will v.rite again."
Polanetzki soon took hi;, h avc. Katkovskn iilso left tlu

same evening, returning to her relative Meinitzki.

5C1

CHAPTER XLTV.

•d\

The parting of Osnovski ^vitll his wife and tlie inlierit-
lee of Zavilovski set the oitv in a tuimoil. Many, wli

liad tliouolit that Paniia Zavih)vska took Icrnati in lier
lionse only to he ahU^ to many him in tlie end, were
stricken dunih witli astonisliment. Some said tliat Ikdeiia
liad no right to do willi lier iidieritance as she did, and
that they wonhl liave acted differently and with mo"*'^
heneiit for society. In a word, every])ody liad something
to sny. Soon there was a new sul)je(3t for talk : a rumor
readied the city of n <luel winch had taken place hctweeii
Kopovski and Osnovski. Ko[)Ovski came hack to Warsaw

a victor aiK

I a 1

lero o

f i 1

ove a(

Ivent

ure.

omen went

over mm

Osnovski, sliohtlv wounded, remained in Hrns.'-els.
After the duel, Svirski I'eceived from him a letter in
which he wiote that he felt well, and \\()uld soon return to
Pritulovo and then he would start for Egypt.

After reading the letter Svirski said to Polanet/.ki :

— '' I am certain he wanted to die ; that is the reason he
allowed himself to he wounded. He is a s[>lendid shot ;
I have seen him extinguish candles with a pistol-shot. I
am certain that he easily could have blown Kopovski's
brains out if he had so desir«Ml."

— " Perha})s ! " replied Polanetzki. " Let him go to Egypt
ami take our Tgnati along with him."

*' It would do him ofood. I am oroinfr to him now to see
how he is."

— ** I will go with you. Ht? is well but acts qneerly.
You remember how proud he was ; now, although he looks
well, he is like a little child, ready to cry at the merest
provocation "

On the way Svirski inquire<l

i )oes

Hel

ena st;iv wi

th h

f) 11

— '' Yes, he seemed to feel the }>ro-<pt> i of parting so
badly that she was soriy to leave him. SIk; intcMided to
stay with him foi* a week only, but two have passetl already
and she is with him still."'

[>&2

— " What does slie intend to do ? "

— " I tliink she will shut lierself up in a cloister wheie
she will piay for the sins of Ploshovski."

—"And Panni Katkovska?"

— "Slie is with Melnitzka."

— " Did Zavilovski reg^ret her going? "

— *' Yes, at fust, tlien lie forgot her."

— " If he does not niariv her in a year's time I will 1)10-
pose to her once more. Slie is just the woman to cling lo
a man witli all lier lieart after bccominof his wife."

— "lam certain Helena wants Ivatkovska to marry Ignali,
but no one knows wliat may happen."

— " I think he will marry liei-. As for me it is only a
dream. I will never get married."

— " My wife tjoes not believe in your threat."

— " It is not a tlireat, it is simply my hick."

Their conversation was suddenly interrn])ted by a ])ass-
iiig carriages occnpied by Panni Masliko and lier motlu'r.
Panni Mashko was l)nsy wraj){)ing lier mother in a warm
cloak and had not noticed their greeting.

— " I went to see them the other dav," said Svirski.
"She i- a good woman."

— " She is a very good daugliter to her mothei-."

— " Yes, I have noticed it also, but it seems to me that
she does it more foi' the sake of display."

Svirski was not mistaken.

Zavilovski was very ghul to see them, and at hearing
that Svirski intended to leave shortly for Italy he beggcil
to be taken aloncf.

— " So, so," thought Svirski, " that proves that you ari»
not thinking of l*anna Katkovska."

Zavilovski told them that he had loim- been dreaminir of
I ily, where he could write better than anywhere else,
S.irski i-ladly ao-reed.

— *" This time I will not remain there veiy long: 1
mu^t act back to my work, and, besides, I have promised
to be [)resent at tlie christening ;it Polanetzki's. Well.
wimt IS it going lo be?" he tnrned to Polanelzki. -A
son or a daughtei-."

— " Whtuever (Jod will send." Polanetzki i'e[)lied, and
left for his ollic*', wIkmc lie was soon iiiteri iipted at his

r.G3

!!• wlie

3ie

vill pro-
wling- lo

Igimti,
s only a

' a ])ass-
inotlu'i".
a waiiu

Svirski.
nie that
lieariiio'

vou arc

iniiiijfof
■e else.

)no-: I
oinist'd

Weil.

. -A

m1, and
at 1 1 is

I-

work by the servant, who announced that a lady wanted
to see him.

Polanetzki thought it was Panni Mashko, and antici-
pated a scene, hot he was agreeably surprised at the si^ht
of his wife's facii through the glass door. The serva: t
did not know her.

— "'' Well, you did not expect me, I see."

Polanetzki ran to meet her, and with great emotion
kissed her hands.

— '' This is a surprise ! " he exclaimed. " What
brought you to the oihce ? "

With these words lie seated hei" in a chair as an hon-
ored guest. By his brightened face, it was easy to see
that he was very glad to see her.

— '• I must show you something, and as it is necessary
for me to take a walk I came hither. And what did you
think? It was some one else? Tell the truth."

— " Many women come to see me on business. I con-
fess I did not think it was you. Well, what have you to
show me?"

— " Look, what a letter 1 received :

*' ' My dear ! You will without doubt be astonished at
my applying to you ; but you, as one who is soon to be-
come a mother, will better undeistand the feelings of a
mother (even if she is only an aunt) who sees the riiisfor-
tune of her child. You will still better understand my
desire to lessen the distress of my treasure when I tell you
that I am myself the real cause of it. Probably this
assertion will surprise you, but it is true. I am guilty ;
and it was only at my suggestion that that bad, corrupt
man dared to put his polluted lips to Linetti's face after
she had fainted in the gi'een-house. At any event, I did
not make a fuss about it, and ruin the prospects of my
child. Certainly the fault la}^ with Osnovski, who put
the question point-blank; but if he suspected something,
and wanted in that way to rid himself of Koj)ovski, may
God forgive him I he sliould not have defended his wife'.i
honor with the pi'ice of another's hap[)iness. O, my dear!
At first I thought that the best way out of the difnculty
would be to promise her hand to Kopovski, as Lineiti

60^

lost !ill claim on Tgnati ; and I intentionally wrote to liim
that Linetti was following* the inclination of lier heart, in
giving lierliand to that villain, because of her love fur
him. I thonglit to dimlnisli the import of the calamity,
and that I^nati wonld be better able t*) stand the blow.
Linetti for Ko[)ovski ! Bnt, thank GckI, that it did not
come to a marriage, and as soon as we found ont about liis
behavior we severed all cojuiections with him. Now we
cannot think of retnrning to the old state of things; be-
sides Linetti is (lisa|)[)()inted in life and people to such an
extent that she would not care to return to them. She
does not know tliat I write tliis letter. If you could have
seen how she was affected by Zavilovski's attempt to take
his life, and what she has suffered on account of it, you
would be sorry for her. He should not have done it, if
only for her sake. But, alas, the majority of men are
under such circumstances irresponsible. Poor dear ! She
was no more to blame than a new-born babe, and I look
at her with grief, seeing how she is fading before my very
eyes, and is tortured with the thought that she was the
cause of his act and has ruined his life. Yesterday
she begged me, with tears in her eyes, in case of her
death, to take the place of Ignati's mother and take care
of him as if he were my son. Every day she repeats that
perhaps Ignati curses her, and my heart is torn to pieces
hearing the doctor say that if this state of things con-
tinues much longer he will not answer for her life. But
God is merciful, and I apply to you as to a woman who is
•ioon to become a mother. Be kind and let me know, if
only once, of Ignati's health ; how he feels, has he calmed
down, and did he forget Linetti or does he cui'se her ; so
tliat I can show her the letter and thus lessen her suffer-
ings. T feel that I write illogically and confusedly, but
you will understand how I suffer at the sight of this
poor victim. God will reward you for it, and I will
pray to Ilim every day that He may bless you with a
daughter who will be happier than my Linetti ! '"

— '' Well, what do yoi; think of it?" asked Marinya.
— '' I think tliat they have already heard of Ignati's
I circumstances," replied Polauetzki. " I also

changei

oCo

think that this letter sent in your name was meant for
Ignati."

— •* Maylje so, but the letter is sincere, and ilu'v must
be very unhappy."

— "• Without doubt tliey are not very happy. Osnovski
was rii^ht, when he wrote in liis letter that Hroiiii li was
mistaken, and tried to delude hcrsi'lt" in vai'.i. As to
Linetti, do you know what Svirski said about lu-r? Now
no decent man will marry lier, and if she (h^es oet mar-
ried, it will be either to a fool oj* an immoral man. lliey
fullv understand it, and this is the reason of tlicir un-
liap[)iness. And, perhaps, tlioy are also suffering witli
remorse; but liow many tricks and artifices the letter con-
tains. Don't sliow it to Ign.ati."

— " Of course, I would not," rei)lied Mariuya, whose
sympathy was wholly witli Ilatkovska.

— " Strange ! " said Polanetzki, following the current of
his thought. "There is so mucli logic in the proverb:
* What one sows he i'ea[)S.' Evil, as a wave str'king the
shore, recoils."

Marinya began to trace with the ti[) of her parasol on
the floor, and became thoughtful. Then she looked at
lier husband with her clear eyes, and said :

— *' True, my dear, evil returns, but it may come back
in the shape of remorse and repentance ; then God is sat-
isfied and does not punisli any more."

If Marinya could huve really known what was passing
in her husband's soul, she could not have told liim any-
thing more comforting. For some time Polanetzki liad
been suffering ^\ ilh tlie foreboding of a coming misfor-
tune, and lived in perpetual fear. He only now under-
stood that it mi;4ht be caused by remorse. For these
Avords of comfort he was ready to embrace liis wife, wlio
shed upon liim so much light and goodness, only he
feared to excite her in the state she was. He kissed her
hand and remarked :

— "You are right, and only too kind."

Wlien Marinya left liini to leturn home, he gazed long
after herretrealing figure, thinking that she was the only
creature he loved, and his love for her would only end
with liis life.

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bQO

CHAPTER XLV.

Two days later Polaiietzki received a note from Mashko.
wliicli read as follows: " I am leaving to-day. Will trv
to see you. Thank you for your friendslii[), and hope you
will be liappier than I am. If possible I will see you in
your oifice at four in the afternoon. Once n^ore I pray
you to see to my wife and di'fend me against lier and the
people. Ojice more I tluink you for everything. I leave
for Berlin at 10 o'clock.''

Polanetzki did not expect that Masliko would come to
bid him good-by, and though he would be glad to evade
a personal meeting, he could not help feeling sorry for the
man, so much so, that he decided to go to see him off ;it
the station.

Several persons were already assembled at the station.
He noticed Panni Mashko with a veil over her face.

— ** Good evening ! I came to bid your husband good-
by. Wliere is he."

— " He went to buy tlie tickets," she coldly replied.

— " Tickets ! Are you also going ? "

— " No, he went after liis ticket."

At tliis momen.t Mashko came in sight. He looked like
a traveling diplomat in his long cloak and gold-rinuned
glasses. If Polanetzki thought that Mashko would greatly
rejoice at his coming he was very nuich mistaken.

— '* Thank you for your coming," he said to Polanetzki
with indifference and continued to busy himself with his
baggage.

— *' You will do me one more favor," he said to Pola.
netzki after he arranged everything. '* Take my wife
liome or escort her to a cal)." And turning to his wife he
said: "Pan Polanetzki will take you to a cab."

Then he took Polanetzki aside and said to him :

«)(m

without fail. AltliouMi I have done
everything nocessary, you will iioverthrltss he surprised
that I left hefoie the trial, 'i'iie ease will l)e l«)sl whether

— " Take her home
icessai

I stay 1

ly Mere or

not. Tliat is tiie reason I wanted to (;all

U[)on you and tell you ; hut you know that hefore a journey
thcne aie uianv thin<jfs to attend to. The trial will eonie
otT in a week from now. I fall sick, and go away, and !.s
tlie ease is in the hands of a voung inex|)erieneed lawyer
it will undouhtedly l)e lost, and [)eo|)lt! will say it was lost
heeause of my ahsence. I left everytldng to my wife. I
have [)rovided for her. Kverytliing is left in her name.
I have not taken from her one giosh. I will join in Ant-
werp a Shi[) Building Company. If I succeed in eoming
to terms with them, the foiests in our part of the country
\t'\\\ greatly increase in value, a!id I will prohahly returrj.
Ploshov in comparison with this enter[)rise is nothing;
hut the time is short for details. If it, were not for the
hitter moments that my wife will have to pass I would
struoofle aixainst remorse, hut now it is overpoweriiiLf me.
Misfortune has hefallen me, hut nohody is secin-e from it.
But now it is too late to speak of it. Be it as it may, I
am triad to know that you will receive your part of the
numey from the sale of Kremen. If I had the time 1
would tell you of an idea tliat came into mv head lo day.
Such ideas do not come to every one. Pr()i)ahly I will
have dealings also with your liiin. You see I don't jrive
up yet. My wife is i)rovided for. Another would have
concluded differently. Don't you tiiink so ? But let us

om my wi

ife,

Polanetzki was listening to him with displeasure, and
thouoht that it was all the result of a life; hastMl from the
very hegiiniing on falsehood, and that Mashko, in spite of

ns in

tell

'Uence, won

never a

hand

on 1

t. I

^ven now at

the last moment hefore leaving he was shamming hefore
his wife and i)eo[)le in the station.

Meanwhile the station was tilling up with ])assenger!

' rr

and their friends who came to see tl

lem o

ir,

eveia

acquaintances came over to greet them ; Mashko s[)()ke to
them in such a condescending manner that Bolanel/ki
became^ angrv.

— *' Who would think that he was running away fn)m

")(18

ft \

. '1'

Vv-^

his cieditors ? " he thought. ** What would have hap-
pened if he had really become rich ?"

From without the heavy pulling of the locomotive was
heard. The passengei's began to buslh; around, tiiking
leave of friends and looking lor theii bags and bundles.

''I would very much like to know what passes witiiiii
his mind/' thought Polaiictzki.

Per]ja[)s liis heait was iilled with the sad thought tluit
he would never a<jfain see the wife whom beloved : that lie
was running away fiom p-overty and disgrace and could
not even take leave of her as he would have liked.

The bell rang the second time. Eveiybody went out
on the platform. Mashko stopped for a moment in fiout
of the slee[)ing car. The light of the lantern fell on his face
which was marked by deep wrinkles. But he spoke calnilv.
as if going on a short trip and expected to return in a few
days.

— " Farewell, Theresa. Kiss mother for me. Farewell ! "
and taking her hand he put it to his lii)s.

Polanetzki, regarding their leave-taking at a distance,
reflected how curious was the fate of the two women ;
both married with the greatest worldly splendor, and the
husbands of both ran away from the family-hearth, leaving
them a heritage of misery and shame.

— '' I am at your service," Polanetzki said to the young
woman after the tiain disappeared in the darkness.

He was certain that she would coldly refuse his proffined
service, but she only bowed her head and took his arm.
She had her plans laid. So much njsentment for Pola-
netzki had lately gathered in her soul that she made up
her mind to reprove him severely, if he should try to
])r()lit by the few moments that they spent together in
the carriage.

He however had no thought of taking advantage of it.
For a long time he had been tilled with a bitter remors*'
for that occurrence the fault of which lay wholly with him.
Helping her into the carriage he entered, and sitting down
beside her he innnediately began to speak of Mashko, try-
ing to prepare her for the events to come, so that she
might not feel the blow so hard :

— " I am surprised at your husband's courage," he saiil,

569

*' God forbid that a l)ii(]cfe sliould be destroj-ed diiriiip^ tlio
time of his sojourn in lierliii, and lie should be unable to
get back in tinje for the tiial, on which all liis future
career is depending. It is a great risk, even if he was
compelled to leave on very important business."

— '' Never fear, the bridges will be all right," she re-
plied.

Not satisfied with this reply, he continued unfolding to
lier the gloomy picture of the future. She must have un-
derstood him, but probably she was angry at not having
an opportunity to reprove him for the past, for when leaving
the carriage she stopped for a moment near the door and
said :

— '' Can you explain to me, jdcase, wliat purpose you
have in view in telling me all this? "

— " None that concerns your husband," he replied,
thinking that the time for an explanation had arrived.
*' But I have something to say to you. I beg your for-
giveness for my mistake in the past. I did you a wrong
and now beg your pardon."

Rut the young woman did not condescend to repl>' and
went into the house. Pohmetzki never ascertained
whether she left him in anger or forgave him.

Nevertheless he returned home with a much lighter
luart. lie thought that now it mattered not what Panni
iVlashko might think of him, he had acted right, and would
be able to look in her face with a clearer conscience.

570

CHAPTER XLVI.

B?'

H:::Lii:NA ZavilovskiuIso received a letter from Bionich,
but (lid not liiid it necessary to show it to Ignati, who left
a week later with Svirski for Italy, taking leave only of
Helena. Polanetzki thoujrht he had acted ri<>ht.

"It would be unpleasant for Ignati to meet his friends,
who would certainly notice his wound, and the fearful
change in his a[)pearance. On coming back he will be
well, and will be respected as a very rich man."

After their departure it became very quiet in the circle
of the Polanetzkis. Their friends were scattered in all
directions. Osnovski was in Hrussels, and they knew
nothing of the whereabouts of liis wife. Bronich and
Castelli were in Paris. Panid Mashko and her mother
confined themselves to their liouse, living for each other.
Panni Chavastovska was laid up in bed, and only the
Bigels and Vaskovski remained. But the latter was ec-
centric, and was considered .by many insane. He began
to think of death and wanted to go to liome and die,
"on the threshold of the other world." He only waited
the birth of Marinya's child.

The Polanetzkis were on this account compelled to lead
a monotonous life. He spent his days in the office and she
at liome, feeling quite unwell. Weeks passed in this way,
and their only diversion were the letters of Svirski, who
wrote about himself and Zavilovski. In one of his letters
he inquired in Zavilovski's name whether Marinya would
not like to receive from him letters about his impressions
of Italy.

" We often sj)eak about it. He said he thought that
you would be pleased to hear about the land that made such
an im[)ression on you, and left with you such ha[)|)y ri'col-
lections, and that it would make his labor mucli easier. I

571

see him every evening. He is writing poetry, but unsucoess-
fuUy, I believe. At least, I liave not seen any that is of
any account. But probably he will be able to do niucli
better in the future witli prose in the sliape of letters. Ho
often thijiks of Helena, and when he is sj)eaking of
Jlatkovska his eyes brighten. I am always speaking of
her in our conveisations ; if it is my fate to renounce
her, nothing can prevent it. You cannot compel one to
love you. He whose fate it is to serve in a garden as a
stick will not grow and bear fruit."

About the middle of Novend)er they received from
Svirski the following letter, which furnished the
Polanetzkis with much food for thought.

" Just think of it I Bronich and Castelli are in Rome,
and I have seen them. You know that I am at home here,
and know at once of every new arrival. And do you know
what I have done? I prevailed on Ignati to leave for
Sicily, for I thought that even if he should fall into the
liands of the ' Mafia' lie would come out easier and pay
less ransom than he would for another engagement ring
for dear Linetti. I concluded that if they must sometime
meet and be reconciled it would not be through my
instrumentality. I don't care to incur that responsibility
after what lias occurred. He is well, but still very weak
both in body and mind, and they could easily entangle
liim, so that he would repent it all his life. I guessed
that they came here for the sake of meeting Ignati, and
was very glad to be able to defeat their plans. As a proof
that I was not mistaken, I I'eceived a few days later a
letter in Zavilovski's name. I recognized the handwriting
on the envelope as that of Theodor's widow. And, writing
on the envelope that I did not know where he had gone, I
sent it back to her.

" But this is only the beginning of the story. On the
next day I received a letter from Bronich, requesting me
to come and see them. I re[)lied that I was busy and
would have to refuse myself the pleasure of the visit. To
this I received a reply to tnke pity on an unfortunate woman
and either to call or let iier know when it would be
convenient for her to pay me a visit in my studio. There

672

was no help for it, I had to fro, J was received by Rronich
in tears, and she told me a lon^ sloiy in whieh her Linetti
appealed entirely innoi;ent. 1 inquired how I could sejve
lier, and she told me that her only wish was to heaiukind
word from Ii,niati. The poor girl is coughing badly, and
will hardly live through the year. She wants to di*' for-
given. I must eonft'ss that I was softened, but did not
give her Ignati's address, which 1 could not liave doni;
even if I desired to do so, not knowing where he had
stopped. I [)erspired as though I had taken a liot bath,
and told her that if Ignati ever spoke to me about them,
I would try to prevail on him to act according to her
wish.

" But this is far from the end. Wlien I was taking
leave Linetti entered and asked her aunt to leave us for a
few minutes alone. I must tell you that she looks ill and
pale, and has grown much taller in api)earance, like a tree
liable to break in the tirst storm. After we were left
alone she immediately began to say : * My aunt is trying
to shield me, out of her love for me, but I do not want to
accei)t the sacrifice, and will tell you frankly that I am
guilty in everything. I am a bad, unworthy girl, and if
I am uidia[)py it is by my own error. I deserve it.' I
was astonished : she spoke sincerely, for her lips trembled
and her eyes were fdled with tears. You will say that I
have a tender heart, and I must confess that I was greatly
touched and agitated and asked her what I could do for
her. She replied that I could do nothing. But begged
me to believe her, that she is not an ally of her aunt in her
endeavor to renew the acquaintance with Ignati ; that after
his attempt on his life she fully realized what she had
done and what she was; that she will never forget it nor
forgive herself. In conclusion she repeated that she was
guilty, and begged me to tell Zavilovski at some future
time, when he will be able to think that she is not trying
to awaken his pit}'', about what she had told me.

*' Well, what do you think of it? Could you believe
anything of this sort ! I see one thing clearly, that she
is sick and unlK4)|)y, and that Zavilovski's attempt to
com»nit suicide made a fearful impression on hev. Helena
was right in saying there is always hope so long m a man

573

lives. In any event, it is very extiaoidinary, and I icjilly
tliink tliiit if Igniiti would like lo many her now si»e
would refuse him, not considering IterseU' worthy of his
love. As lo my own opinion, I must tell you that the
devil may lake me if 1 will ever do anything to harm
ler.

This letter made a great impression upon all, and be-
came a topic of conversation in whicli the change in Pola-
netzki's opinion hecanie still moic apparent. JJefore he
would not have believed it possibhr that a woman like
Castelli couhl havti^moral scruples, but now on Painii
^{(••t'rs assertion tliat she did not believe in Castelli's sin-
cerity he said :

— " She is still too young not to l)e sin.^ere. fler con-
fession of guilt can serve as a i)roof of that. J remember
tliat Mashko, recognizing that he chose a false road, was
always ready with excuses for the reason of his having
done so — 'With us it is imi)ossible to ai't otherwise' —
*It is the fault of society' — 'I j)ay back in their own
coin ' — and so on, which was all false. Hut to confess one's
own guilt means that conscience is not entirely dead."

— '' Do you think Zavilovski would do right if he should
marry her now?"

— "No, I do not thiidi so. On the contrary, I do not
suppose it will ever occur."

Soon this conversation gave place to serious anxiety
about Marinya's health that began visibly to fail, during
the last of November. There were days wlien she was
unable to leave her seat, and in one week changed so
much for the worse that even the doctors becfan to cret
anxious. Her transparent face turned to a bluish hue.
Even Panni Higel, generally a great optimist, was wor-
ried. Marinya did not lose her [)resence of mind.

Hut Polanetzki lost his: it seemed to liim tliat all tlie
misery and sickness he had gone through in his life were
insignificant in comparison with wliat he suffered now.
Of course, he tried with all his might to hide his fears
from Marinya, and listened to the warning of the doctor
and Panni Bigel to be careful. But he changed terribly,
owing to his anxiety and agitation, and he fell into a sort

574

of melancholy in which he saw the danger in a greater
degree tlian it existed in reality.

Marinya's natural sickness Wtas greatly complicated l)y
a very serious malady ; her heart was affected, the doctois
lost all hope of her recovery. Polanetzki nearly lost his
reason, he did not eat or drink and lost every hope. 'JMie
doctors did not know what was really the matter witli
her, all they knew was that her heart did not act rightly,
and tliat, even in case of a happy solution, she must die
after the birth of her child on account of the weak circula-
tion of her blood.

In the beginning of December Zftvilovski and Svirski
returned and found Polanetzki in despair. Wliat did he
care now about Bionichs and Ciistellis when his Marinya
was dying I

Even Panni Bigel lost all hope.

— " Poor Marinya ! " she said to Svirski. "But he is
more to be pitied. If she would only give liim a child I
Perhaps this would console him. I don't know how he
can stand this agony."

In fact Polanetzki suffered terribl3\ For a long time
Marinya tried to delude them with hope she herself did
not feel. But one night after Panni Bigel left them,
overpowered by her long vigil, Marinya felt very bad
and said to her husband :

— " I want to speak to you and ask you for something."

-—"What is it, my dear?"

She thought a moment and then said :

— " I know I will get well — but promise me if I should
— if it should even be a boy — you will love him "

Polanetzki, struggling with his tears, said in a calm
voice :

— " As I love yourself, believe me."

Marinya tried to kiss his hand, but not succeeding in
this she smiled, then added :

— " One more favor — don't think I want to frighten
you — but I would like— to confess."

Polanetzki felt a shiver run through his body.

— " Very well, my child. To-morrow I will invite the
priest."

On the following morning she confessed. Polanetzki

575

WHS sure tlie end was near, ami even felt astonished that
she was )'et liviii«;.

At nudnijj;hL she compelled him to go to sl'»ep, refusing
to listen to his protestations that lie sle[)t ihrougli the
day, which was not true. At last he had to give in.

lie went into the next room and sat in a chair, trying
to listen to what was going on in Marinya*s room. Hut
he was too exhausted and soon fell into a heavy slumhcr.

At dayhreak he was awakened hy a slight knocking at
Ills door. It was Panni Bigel.

He jumped up and went into his wife's room.

— '* What has happened?" he whispered with pallid
lips.

— " God has sent you a son," Panui Bigel whispered in
his ear.

i>7G

CHAPTER XLVII.

Ti:is event was followed ])y many anxious days. Paniii
Polaiietzki hovered between life and death. lUit youlli
i-anie out victorious, and one day the invalid, on awakuii-
in<( afler a long sleep, was nuich better. The old doctor
could hardly contain himself from the joy lie felt, but
would not trust to his own judj^nient and asked for tlie
l)resence of another physician. Polanetzki went for him
and on his return was met by Panni Higel, who told him
with tears of joy that Marinya was much better. She
(!()uld not speak furthei', tears were choking her voice.
Polanetzki, who only noticed her agitation, grew very
pale.

— '* She; is begging to be allowed to eat," added Panni
Bigel, who succeeded in mastering her own feelings.
"She asked to see the child, and inquired at what time
you would return, and now she is nearly fighting for food.
Tliank (rod, thank (rod!" And she embraced Polanetzki
in her joy. Trembling with joy, he kissed her hand. He
liad suffered so much lately he could not now control his
emotion and could hardly keep on his feet.

The doctors in tiie meanwhile returned from the sick
room and replied to the anxious query of Polanetzki with
a self-satisfied smile :

— *' Tliank God! You must be grateful to him."

Polanetzki succeeded in calming his feelings a little,
and went into his wife's room. Panni Pigel was already
there. Marinya looked much better and brighter.

— "Ah, Stach ! " she exclaimed. **You see I am
better."

"Thank God, my dear!" lie replied, fearing to excite
her by his emotion, but he could not help it; and putting
his head on tlie covering at her feet, he embraced them,
and remained mute for a Ions: time.

Ol I

— "IlrtI" e-vclaiined Muiinya, with a weak but liappy
s'liilt;; '* lie does love me."

{'"loin this day she j^new [)erceptibly better. She felt
so lKi|»[)y ill her returning health that she was ready to
sing with joy. They kept her in bed for fear of a re-
hi|)su.

IltM- strength returned. A glow appeared again on lu-i-
face, and tlic love of hfe rt'luined. It was to be hoi)ed
that she would soon leave her bed. Hut her long sick-
ness greatly s[)oiled her, and from a very sensible woman
slie became a capricious child, getting cross and making
'•faces" on the smallest i)rovocation. Polanctzki, in
trying to please her, was given at times to joking and
hiughter.

Once she comphiined to lier liusband that Panni Higel
refused to give her some re<l wine. Tlie latter explained
that she gave her as much as was allowed by the doctoi".
Of course, he tried to console her, and spoke to her as he
used to speak to Lida :

— ''They will soon give my pet some wine; as soon as
the doctor comes they will give some to my little one."

*' Red ? "

— "Well, if you want red, let it be red I"

Everybody laughed. At times they were joined in their
merriment by Plavitski, who had become very serious
from the moment of his grandson's birth. Once he
brought his will and made them listen to the reading of
it. In the beginning, he was taking leave of his life,
daughter, son-in-law and grandchild ; after, he was in-
forming them how a child s!:ould be brought up and edu-
cated ; and concluded by proclaiming his grandson liis sole
heir; although since Mashko's bankruptcy he had nothing
to leave, and profited himself by his son-in-law's generosity.

But he greatly enjoyed his magnanimity, and felt the
whole evening as proud as a pelican, who had fed its
young with its own blood.

Like every dangerous illness, the illness of Marinya had
taken her back to the days of childhood, with the diiYer-
ence that it took her now weeks to pass the stages which
then took years in passing. At first Panni Bigel called
her baby, then little girl; but soon the little g" i began to
37

'III .; i

;;i:

678

-m

show the tiai's of a coquettish woman, and when tliey
were combing lier hair she denianded that a mirror should
be brought to lier, and putting it on her knees she looked
into it with the intention of assuring herself that Tanni
Bigel spoke the truth in asserting that she was now nioie
heautifnl than ever. She evidently seemed satisfied with
the inspection, for she began to smile to herself in tlie
ghiss, and threatened with her emaciated hand in the direc-
tion of iier husband's room.

— "Wait, my dear," slie said. "Now I will settle with

yoM."

In fact, Marinya was never so beautiful as at the time
of lier convalescence. Her skin became now even moie
transparent than in the days when Zavilovski wrote veises
in lier honor. She looked so delicately heautifnl, that
one conld not look at her without emotion, as she was
lying on her pillows.

This was one of the reasons of Polanetzki's love for her
as a woman, and besides, he was very grateful to her for
remaining alive. He shov/ed his gratitude by blintlly ful-
filling her every wish, and Marinya became as the apjile
of his eye — the soul of his life, ids thoughts and under-
takings. They had always lived a tranqnil life, but now
it became ono of unbounded bliss and haj)piness.

Of course, the child greatly contributed to their happi-
ness. As Marinya was unable to suckle her child, a
pretty but unfortunate nurse, who had foimerly seived in
the liouse of Marinya's father, Avas engaged.

She had served after the dei)arture of the Plavitzkis for
VVarsaw, at the estate of Goutovski, where her misfortune
occurred. Who wa- to blame for it, no one ever knew;
but no one could reproach Goutovski with a lack of love
for liis servants ; the proofs of his great love for them
were abundant on his estate. The peasants were often
heard to say, when discussing their mas^^er, "that lie rode
a white hoT-e, was shooting from a pistol, and looked into
the clear eyes of girls." And although Goutovski's habits
liad nothing to do with the affairs of the peasants, it had
much to do with Polanetzki's finding a good wet-nurse on
Goutovski's estate for his son.

And as she was young and pretty, the little Polanetzki

579

had all the best of it. He thrived nicely, and in the nio
nieutswhen free fioni eating and sleeping, cried in a lucid
voice, thus expanding his lungs. His physical ini[)rov'e-
nients were tlie t()[)ics of daily discussions in Marinya's
room, whei'c they brought liini for liis mother's inspection.
All kinds of discoveries, as to liis mental capabilities, Avei-e
made by Panni Bigel, who one day came into Marinya's
room with the foliowinar infoniuilion :

— ""Imagine, Marinya, Stach spread out the fingei-s of
one hand, and with tlie other he seemed to count liis
lingers. He will undoubtedly be a mathematician."

— " Then he will take after his father," Marinya seriously
replied.

As to Polanetzki, he took to the child, at first touched
with pity for his hel[)lessness. But after awhile he began
to love hin\ very much, trying to take him in his arms,
and carry him, which he did in a manner that made all
those who saw liim laugli heartily.

In this wise, the life of the Polanetzkis flowed on ve:y
happily and joyfully. They awoke every morning with
the ho[)e that the coming day would bring themstiil more
joy. And Bigel, who visited them every night with his
vi'^)oncello, on looking at their life, came to the following
sensible conclusion :

" A misfortune ni;iy happen to the best people, but until
it occurs they live happily."

In fact, they weie living happily. Marinya felt sure
that the child v»'as only another link in the chain whicli
bound lier and her husband. One day she even spoke
about it to him.

— "Believe me, I lov^e the child for his own sake ; but
how much I love you you will never know," he once said
to her.

— '*T]ien tell it to me," she said, blushing with pleas-
ure, and embracing her husband.

><)ii

4 1

:;!i

1,1

H
'If

I' ' !

iSO

CHAPTER XLVIII.

PoLANETZKl invited to the christening all his friends
and acquaintunces. There was among otlieis Punni
Chavaslovska, who liad left her sick bed to be present. Of
conrse, there were also present Plavitski, the Bigels,
Vaskovski, Svirski, Zavilovski and Ratkovska. Marinya,
nicely dressed for the occasion, looked lovely — so much
so, tliat Svirski, at the sight of her, pressed his hand to liis
head, and exclaimed :

— " This is more than a mortal can bear ! Who can
look npon so much beauty and not become blind ! '*

— " Aiid what did I say?" exclaimed Polanetzki, with
as much pride as if no one had noticed it before him.

— " On your knees, ye people ! I will say nothing
more ! "

Marinya blushed with pleasure at this complimert, and
began to prepare the child for tlie ceremony. As the first
godparents, officiated Bigel and Chavastovska. In the sec-
o; d pair were Svirski and Ratkovska. Svirski would not
under any pretext be the godfather of the child in. Cv^mmon
with Ratkovska, but on being told that they were to offi-
ciate only as the second pair, and that tliis would not be
an obstacle to his marriage with. Ratkovska, he consented.

Tlie cliild, who was held by Bigel during the ceremony
and was very unrul}^ accidentally touched his spectacles
and broke ont into a loud wail, but noticing tlie spectacles
instantl}' stopped.

After the ceremony he was given to liis nurse, who ])ut
him into a pretty baby-carriage, a present to the cliild from
Svirski, and was about to wheel him away, when Svirski
stopped iierand took tlie child out of the carriage.

— '* Carefully I Carefully ! " exclaimed Polanetzki, com-
ing over quickly to his side.

581

— "Do not fear!" Sviiski said to him. "I have 1 ;ld
in my hands not onlychiklren but the most precious works
of ...t."

" And, in fact, he knew how to get filong with chikhen
as though lie Isad been nursing them all his hfe. Coming
over to wliere Vaskovski stood, lie said to him :

— '' Well, my dear professor, what do you say to this
little Arian ? "

— *' What is there to be said,"' leplied Vaskovski, look-
ing at the cliild. *' He is every bit an Arian."

— *' And a future missionary ?"

— " He will not escape it in the future, as you have not
escaped it."

But the young man seemingly did not care for his fu-
ture, .and starred such a cy, that he had to be speedily
transferred to the arms of his nurse.

But the women were talking of him and proclaiming
him a beauty and a genius of tlie future

The genius was soon sound asleep. And meanwhile break-
fast was served. The hostess placed Zavilovski next to
Panna Ratkovska, as she wished to see how^ Zavilovski would
act towards her. He seemed ent.rely well and rational, but
not very energetic. In Italy he used to blush at the men-
tion of Panna Ratkovska's name and tears appeared in his
eyes, but now he seemed entirely indiffeient to her. And
she became very sad. Marinya tried to bring about an
interest between them, but failed signally. And he soon
began to talk of another journey in which to all purport
Panna Ratkovska would not ^hare.

Sitting near her at the table, he silently and with great
relish partook of his food and looked displeased. Panna
R;itkovskaguzed on Zavilovski with eyes full of pity.

Marinya tried to bring Zavilovski closer to Ratkovska,
and, bending over the table, she said to him :

— " Why don't you tell Panna Ratkovska and me some-
thing about Rome ? " and, turning to Ratkovska, said :
" You have never been in Rome ? "

— " No, I have not, but I liave read a great deal of Italy.
Of course, reading is not seeing," she replied with a
blush.

— *'Yoti remind me of the lettera about Italy you

,!i;;

ii;

Hit

bS2

promised to let me read," Marinya again addressed
Zavilovski.

— " I (Ud not write them at the time, it was too hot.
Now I intend to write a great deal."

After dinner Svirski said to Marinya, indicating with his
eyes to Zavilovski:

— '* Do yon know what impression he makes upon me?
— that of a very valuable vessel, but a broken one."

583

CHAPTER XLIX.

A FEW (lays later Svirski made a visit to Polanetzki in
his olHce to inquire about his wife's health. He found
him about to start for his home, as he and Marinya dined
that day with the Bigels.

— " She is well and so is the boy, and you cannot imagine
how liappy and thankful I feel. What do you intend to
do with yourself? " he asked Svirski, who went with him
a short distance.

— *' I intend to leave for Floience, where I have some
work," replied the i)ainter. " On the way I will stop in
Rome, and this is what I wanted to speak to you about.
This morning I received a visit from Ignati, who offered
to go along with me."

— " And you agreed ? "

— "Well, whib could I do? Although I love him very
much, he is som^itimes unbearable. He has broken down."

— " Yes, he is to be pitied, and so are Helena and Rat-
kovska, who expected so much of his talent."

— ** Poor girl I He seems not to be thinking of her, and
it is very fortunate that Helena had provided for her
lUture."

— " I will wait another year," said the painter, " and if
he does not marry her in that time I will propose once
more. You will be kind enough to toll her that I had
nothing to do with his going."

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance
of Osnovski, who came out from a fruit store with a pack-
age in his hand.

— " Look, here comes Osnovski ! "

— " Yes, this is he, but how he has changed ! "

In fact, Osnovski was very changed, and meeting his
friends he was undecided what to do : to pretend that he

'ti

I!.-'

'•■1

1 1 ■ ! _

il:

584

(lid not see them or to address tliem. At last he made up
his mind and came over to them. He began to si)eak of
tlie weather, the grapes he bought and other indifferent
matters, and all felt very uncomfortable. At last Polan-
etzki said :

— " I believe you intend to leave for Egypt ? "

— "I intend to do so. It is very lonely in the village,

especially when one is done " and he stopped, noticing

that lie spoke of liings of wliich he did not intend to
speak, and soon left tliem.

— " Really one could wish him to die. I don't know
how he stands it," said the painter.

— " After all this misfortune and after such love as he
felt for that woman ! "

— " What can he do — he has to live ? "

— Certainly he had to live, but he did not know how.
Neither on his estate nor in Warsaw was life possible, he
could not stop thinking of her. And so, in sheer desi)er-
ation, he undertook a journey to Egypt. But, leaving
Warsaw in \evy bad health, he was taken sick with influ-
enza on his way to Vienna, and was laid up in that city.
Typhoid fever followed the influenza, and in a few days he
was dangerously ill and unconscious, lying in a hotel, at-
tended by strangers, far from home find friends. In his
delirium he continually saw before him a beloved face,
and he began to inquire about it from the Sisters of Mercy
who were attending him, and he grew very despondent.

6»o

CHAPTER L.

The life of the Polanetzkis after Zavilovskiand Svirski
once more left for Italy flowed as tranquilly and happily
as ever. They hardly saw anybody beside tlie Bigels,
but felt very happy in their small home circle. Polanetzki
was greatly occupied at that time and spent a great deal
of his time in the office transacting business of which he
told no one anything. After his work he used to come
liome happy and contented. He loved his wife with a
quiet, honest love, not only as a wife but as a woman,
calmly, without extremes of joy and despair.

** I believe I am turning into an Osnovski," Polanetzki
often thought. " But I can safely do so. My Marinya
will never be a Panni Osnovski."

The baby thrived wonderfully and was a continual
source of joy to them.

In the beginning of February Polanetzki began to spend
considerable time away from home, attending to very im-
portant business, and spent whole hours with Pan Bigel
in the office consulting with him about something. But
the latter part of the month he spent at home only going
out with his wife and son for a breath of fresh air. They
saw very few, and the only news they heard was through
Panni Bigel. In this wise they learned that Panna Rat-
kovska had established an asylum for children with the
money given to her by Helena, and that Osnovski had left
for Egypt, not alone but with his wife, with whom he be-
came reconciled after his sickness. Kre^ovski, who once
served as Mashko's second, saw them together in Trieste,
and told Polanetzki that Panni Osnovski had the manner
of a " repentant sinner." Knowing himself how a man
softens in misfortune, and how sincere his repentance may
be, Polanetzki replied to him that : " if her husband took
her back no honest man ought to rebuke her or to be more
rigorous than her husband."

Soon after another rumor reached them from Italy—a
rumor which greatly surprised not only them but all

586

Warsa\y. It was reported that Svirski had proposed to
Castelli and they would he married after Easter. Marinya
prevailed upon her liusband to write to Svirski and iiKjuire
in lei^ard to the truth of the rumor. In ten days tliuy re-
ceived the following letter in reply to their question:

'' You ask me, if it is true? No, my deais, it is not
true. I>ut to explain to you why such a thing is impos.-i-
ble, I nuist tell you of Zavilovski's condition, lie came lo
Home three days ago from a tour through Italy which in;
had undertaken on my advice. To-nxniow he will leave
for (ireece. Meanwhile he spends his time with me day
and night. Seeing that he acted rather queerly I tried to
make him talk, and asked him if he had written any verses
during his last travels, and do you know what happened?
At first he became very pale and replied that he had not
conimenced to write as yet, then he tlirew his hat on the
floor and began to cry like a little child. 1 never saw
anybody exhibit such suffering. He ran around the room
and died tliat lie had ruined his talent, that he had noth-
ing left in him, that he will write nothing more, that he
preferred death to being saved by Helena. This is what
is going on within him, and peo[)le are saying that he does
not write because he is rich and has no incentive to do so.
I am afraid he will remain like this. They have ruined
the poor fellow, killed his soul and talent, blew out the
lire within him that would have given warmth and light
to every one around him. This, as you see for yourself, I
caiuiot forget. God be with her, with that Castelli; but
she should not have plucked from him the featliers witli
which to fashion for herself a fan to be immediately
thrown away. At one time in Warsaw I sai<l that she
could marry now oidy some prince Krapulesko, because no
one else would take lier. But probably there are Hiiiny
who would, but not I, because I am not a Ivra[)ulesko. One
can often forofive wrong's done to himself, but never those
committed against others. This is all I have to say about
this matter, the rest you know yourself. I will wait a
year and then once more pro[)ose to Piinna Ratkovska.
Wliether she will acc(q)t me or not, in any case, God bless
her, and this is my last decision."

— " Strange," remarked Marinya who was reading the

587

letter together with her husband; "from whence such
rumors originate ? "

The reply to this question she found continuing to read
the letter.

** This rumor must have originally spread fiom my be-
ing seen in tlie company of tlie two ladies. You renuinht r
the letter wliicli Bionieh sent me and hinetti's confession
of guilt? You also remember my pity for them. No
matter what I say, but my compassionate lieart is sympa-
thizing with tliem in their unhappiness. You will under-
stand yourself that they suffer. I have seen how un-
comfortable the}'^ feel when meeting acquaintances, and
how 1-he latter treat them according to their principles.
So much anger has accnnudated in tlieir hearts that as
Vaskovski says, they will soon begin to throw up. Their
situation is in fact a vei;^' precarious one. God be with
tliem ! I well remember Helena's words that one must not
lose faith in a man so loncf as that man lives. Poor Linetti I
Slie looks very bad and is losing her beauty. I still feel
very sorry for her, also for Bronich, who has made eveiybody
tired with the recital of her wrongs and the lies she tells
in defending her Linetti. I am sorry for them, but I do
not know whether I will be able to go to them again after
what I witnessed in poor Ignati. But I am not sorry I
went to see them. People will gossip, but in a year they
will see that they spoke foolishly."

Further he spoke about the reconciliation of the Osnov-
skis, of which Svirski heard a good Jeal. "God is mer-
ciful," he wrote, " and if He is puniahing any one it is
only for the purpose of compelling him to repent of his
sins. I now believe even in the regeneration of Panni
Osnovski ; perhaps it is artless of me to think so, but I
sometimes think that there are no extraordinary bad
people in the world. Just look, even Panni Osnovski had
something in her, and when hearing of her husband*s ill-
ness, she went and nursed him thiongh it. That is what
a woman can do ! Thev turn mv biain, and I will soon
stop believing not only in them, Imt in everything else."

FitillK.'r, there were questions about their health, tlic
healtli^)f the child, good wishes, and a promise of return
in the spring.

6b8

CHAPTER LI.

Spring had already arrived — an early spring — warm
and [)leasant. Polanetzki again began to leave lionie for
wliole days at a time, and to sit locked uj) with BiL,H'l till
late in the evening. This state of things continued U[) lo
May. Mariiiya, who wanted to know what was going on,
did not care to ask her husband, hoping that he would tell
her when the time arrived. But he became latelv so ex-
cited that she decided to ask him at the first opportunity.

In. fact, in a few days she was given the opportnnity.
One (lav Polanetzki leturned from the office much earlier
tha'i usual, and although his face was very earnest, he
seemed filled with joy. Looking at him, she could not
help asking :

— " What has happened ? You look so very happy ! "

lie sat down near her, and said to her in a kind of
strange voice :

— "Wljat lovely weather we have to-day, and how
warm it is ! Thanks to the weather, I was led to think
that it would be good for yours and Stach's health to re-
move to the country as soon as possible."

— " Yes — if we are in possession of Buchinok," she re-
plied.

— " Well, Buchinok was sold long ago," said Polanetzki,
taking her hands in his, and gazing lovingly into her eyes.
"I have thought of something else, which will surely re-
joice you ; hut you must give me your word that you will
not get too excited, and you will listen calmly to what I
have to say."

— " I promise."

— " Well, you see, my child, after Mashko left, his cred-
itors fell upon his estates so .as to get at least some of
their money. The estates were sold at auction. Mager-
oska was sold, but Kremen, Skoki and Suchatin remained,
and I succeeded in purchasing them for you."

Marinya looked at him for some time, scarcely beiieving
her ears. But he spoke so very earnestly she could not

589

help believing him ; lier eyes filled with teare, and she
threw herself in his arms.

— "StJich!" she exclaimed. She could not utter an-
other word, but in that exclamation was felt so nuicli love,
gratitude and reverence for the man who was so good to licr.

— " 1 knew you would be glad,'* said Polanetzki, press-
ing her to his heart. "And your joy is my greatest ii'-
wjird. I remembered that you loved Kremen— that is
wliy I bought it for 3'ou. Kut what is Krenien? If I
luid bought for you ten Kremens, I would stiu be unworthy
of you."

He spoke sincerely. But his wife removed her tear-
stained faee from his bosom, and said:

— *' It is I who is unworthy of you. I never thought of
being so happy."

And they began to dispute as to wlio was tlie most
worthy, kissing and embracing in turns. She felt like
crying and laughing at the same time, for joy and liappi-
ness. Her Stach not onlv loved her, but did more for her
than he had ever promised.

— "" Well, Marinya," he said, walking up and down the
room, not without consid<;ral)le pride depicted on liis daik
face. "Now the work will have to be begin. Yon know,
tliat I understand vciy little about an estate; this will be
your duty. Kremen is a large property, and we will both
have plenty to do."

— " Will not tliis i)urchaso cramp 3'ou in your business ? "

— "In my business? No, no. I made an excellent
bargain; besides, I remain in the business as heutofore;
and to tell you the truth, even if Kremen should vanish
to-day from the face of the earth, we would still have
enough left to live on."

— " I am sure you will succeed in everything you un-
dertake," she said, looking at him with a pride and rev-
erence as though he stood before her the greatest of heroes.
" But I am sure that you bought Kremen only to please me."

— " You are right ; I bought it because the grave of
your mother is on this estate ; because I love you, and
you love Kremen, and only for your sake I bought the
place. I remembered what you said about Kremen when
in Italy at the time Mashko tried to sell the estate to

590

Bukatzki. Eveiy word you say l)ccomes impressed on my
iniiul, and tlms it was in regard to Kreraen. I bought it,
but refrained from telling you before, for I wanted to sur-
prise you — you are my dear beloved little wife."

And Polanetzki again kissed her hands. She wanted to
return his caress, but he playfully prevented her, and
they began chasing each other around the room like a pair
of children.

Maiinya wanted to go to Kremen immediately, but he
threatened that he would get jealous of the estate and
sell it.

— " No, you would not," she replied, shaking her liead.

— " Why ? "

— " Hecause you love me."

He replied by a shake of his head.

To the great joy of Marinya, her husband told her that
at the end of the week they would leave for Kremen with
the entire family, as everything was in readiness for the
reception of the you ig mistress of Kremen. Suddenly he
began to laugh.

— ""• I wonder what your father will say to all this?"

These words were a new soui-ce of joy to Marinya — a
joy she was not compelled to hide very long. In a half-
hour her father called. He had hardly shown himself
in the door when Marinya ran to meet him, and threw
liei'self on his neck and told him the news. He was as-
tonished and deeply moved; his eyes filled with tears.
And to hide his emotion he began to speak of the heat,
and of his hope that they would find on the estate a corner
for him. At last he took Polanetzki's head between his
hands, and added:

— " I hope you will, with the help of God, manage the
estate with your general good luck, as well as I managed
it. Of one thing you may be certain : that I will be al-
ways ready to help you with my advice, and will never
refuse to be of service to you in the matter of admin-
istration."'

Tliat evening they spent with the Bigels ; and Marinya,
overflowing with joy, said to Panni Bigel, pointing at her
husband :

—"Can anybody help loving a man like my Stach?"

591

CHAPTER LII.

The Polanot'/kis were met on their arrival at tlie estate
I)}' tlie domestics, who hiu\ pre[)are(l the liouse for their
reception. ALiiinya, witli teaj's in her eyes, inspected
every nook and corner. Slie spent a sleepless night, and
as a coiisecpience remained late in bed the next day, which
was Sunday. This [)revented her going to chureli, as sho
had desired, and slie had to postpone this duty until the
afternoon. Polanetzki had meanwhile taken a good look
at the estiite, and came to the conclusion that it would
need plijnty of money and work to bring it into proper
sha[)e, as it had been left in a very bad condition. Hut
this did not discourage him in tlie least. The young
owner felt that with money, labor and healtli everything
would be brought into a very satisfactory state. lUit the
woi'k must be besfun immediately.

Returning to the house, Marinya came to him, and, lay-
ing her head on his bosom, pointed to the crib in which
lay their sleeping child, her face suffused with a lovely
blush.

They went in com[)any with Plavitski to the church.
The day was filled to overflowing with joy and the warmth
of S[)ringtime. A host of memories filled Polanetzki. He
remend)ered his former journey with Plavitski to Ventor
at the time of his first visit to Kremen. The dear, joj^ful
being sitting beside him now was not with him at that
time. He recalled their misunderstandinr^s, Lidia, their
marriage, the diffei'ent stages of their life and happiness.
He felt that he had cfained in Marinya mu(di more than lie
(ixpected. Andtliatifa misfortune should hajipen now
it would be easier to bear it together. On arriving at
Ventor he prayed on the grave of Marinya*s mother with

.'•)92

lr|;||«-.

the same feelings he would have had at the grave of his
own mother.

The hells rang and they left the church. Again Polan-
etzki's thoughts reverted to tlie jjast. Everything was
familiar to him, as thcmgh he had left there only the day
hefore. In front of the cliurch they were surrounded hy
Marinya's former friends and neighbors. Plavitski looked
around for Panni Yamisli, but learned that she was in. the
city. Pan Yamish looked hale and hearty, and was de-
liglited at the sight of Marinya.

— " Ah I " he exclaimed, kissing her hand. *' My dear
little housekeeper, my darling birdy, m}'- golden Marinya
came back after all to the place of her birth ! What a
beauty, what a pretty girl, who is now the mother of a
promising son ! "

Marinya flushed with pleasuie. Zasimski, with half a
dozen children, joined them. On their heels followed
Goutovski, tlie former admirer of Marinya and rival of
Mashko. He looked as clumsy as a young bear, as he
drew near to Marinya and greeted her with a sigh for his
lost ha])piness. Marinya replied to his greeting, slightly
confused, but Polanetzki cordially shook his hand and
said to him in a solemn voice :

— "- You see I am also here, and very glad to see the old
friends of my cliildhood. How do you do? "

— " As usual," replied Goutovski.

Yamish, who was in very good spirits, said to Goutovski
in a joking tone :

— " They say that the work of the peasants will be bet-
ter managed."

Goutovski became very confused. Every one was
speaking about the want of proper management of the
work of his peasants. This, and the sale of his woods, was
the only thing that could save him, as otherwise he could
hardly hold on to his estate nuich longer; but he could do
nothing witli his peasants, who invariably reproached him
every time he spoke to them about it, with their " Master
riding a white horse, shooting from a pistol, and looking
into tlie eyes of pretty girls."

Sometimes Goutovski could not contain himself, and
cried to his peasants :

r>''

693

', and

— "The devil maj^ take the lot of yon. What is there
in common between pretty girls and tlie management of
the estate ? "

But the peasants would not submit to liim.

In the meanwhile Marinya invited Yamisli, whom sho
greatly respected, to dinner. Plavilski, who greatly
missed Panni Yamish, also invited Goutovski for a game
in cards.

This compelled the Polanetzkis to return speedily liome
and liave everything in readiness for tlieir guests. They
were followed by Plavitski and Yamisli, Goutovski bring-
ing up the end of the h'ne in his britzska.

On the wav Plavitski said to Yamisli :

— '' I can say that my daughter is very happy. Polan-
etzki is a good man, very energetic, but '*

—"But what?"

— '' Too close-fisted. Do you remember how he pressed
me for the paltry twenty thousand I owed him, and I was
compelled to sell Kremen, which he now has bought? If
he had not pressed me then he would not now have had to
buy it. He could have had it for nothing after my deatii,
as the inheritance of Marinya. A good man, but he is as
yet empty here," pointing to his own forehead.

— " Hm," murmured Yamish, not wishing to tell him
that if the estate had remained in his hands there would
have been nothing left of it by this time.

■ — " And now," added Plavitski, '* I have new cares, as
I practically will have to take upon myself the manage-
ment of its affairs."

Yamisli nearly burst with laughter, and could hardly
keep from saying: " God forbid! " Plavitski liimself did
not believe in what he was saying.

Marinya, as a good hostess, had everything ia readiness,
and met her guests at the door with her chihl in her arms.

— *' Before we sit down to the table let me introduce
to you my son," she addressed Yamish. " A big boy, a
polite son, a daisy."

And she held the baby out in the direction of Yamish,
who touched the child's face with his hand, which made
the "daisy" frown, and then let out a fearful scream,
that sounded like that of a parrot or a raven.

594

■" 1']

Meanwhile Goutovski came in, and after hanging upliis
coat in the vestibule, he began to seek for a handkerchief
in his pockets. By mere chance Rosalia, the young nurse
of Polanetzki's child, passed him ; seeing Goutovski she
came to him, and after bowing to the very ground, she
shook liis hand.

— " Well, how do you get along ? What do you want
to tell me?" inquired her former master.

— '' Notiiing. I only wanted to greet you," she replied
liuinbly.

Goutovski began to look for some change in his vest
pOviket, but she did not wait for a tip, and went into the
nui'sery. Goutovski joined the company.

At the table they began to discuss the removal of the
I*olanetzkis into the country. Yamish, as a counsellor
and a ^ olite man, took upon himself the role of spokes-
nuiii, and, turning to Polanetzki, said :

— " You come to the country without the know^ledge of
the management of a large estate. But you come with
something which many landowners do not possess, namely,
money and the ability of an administrator. And I am
certain of your success. Your return is a source of great
joy to me, not only for your sake, but that of my dear
pupil. It proves the truth of what I have always asserted,
that the majority of us old landowners will have to leave
the soil; but that our children and grandchildren will
return to it more able and better qualified for the struggle
with life, with more calculation and with traditions of labor.
Do you remember what I have said to you more than
once, that the soil has a mighty power over us, and that
it constitutes our sole wealth ? You were not of my 0})in-
ion then, but now you have become a landowner yourself."

— '' It was done for her sake," replied Polanetzki, point-
ing toward Marinya.

— " For her sake ! " retorted Yamish. *' And you
thought that my theory excluded women, and that I did
not know their worth ? They grasp their duty w^ith their
heart and cling to it with all their strength. And the soil
is our duty as mucli as our wealth."

At wiiicii Yamish, who, like all other counsellors, liked
to hear himself speak, half closed his eyes, and continued ;

595

— " So vou have returned to tlie soil, thanks to yonr
wife? It is her merit. God giant there shall be many
such women in this world. But after ail, you also canio
from the soil, and now she has claimed her own. We
must all work with the plow ! I will say more : Not only
Pan Stanislav Polanetzki and Panni Marinya Polanetzki
icturncd to the soil, but tlie whole family Polanetzki, be-
cause in them awakened the instinct of whole generations
who came from the soil, and have fertilized it with their
dust. Long life to Panni Polanetzki and to the whole
familv Polanetzki ! "

He raised his glass.

" Long life ! Long life ! " exclaimed Goutovski, who
was ready to forgive the family Polanetzki all the wrongs
and heart-pangs he was the victim of on its account. All
rose and approached Marinya to clink their glasses, and
w'hen her husband drew near she whispered : " Oh, how
happ3' I am ! "

After dinner Plavitski invited the guests to a game of
whist, and the Polanetzkis went into the garden. The
evening was calm and clear. Everything reminded them
of that Sunday when he made his first appearance in
Kremen. The sun set just as brightly, the trees were
motionless, and the birds chirped in their nests. They
walked along the paths, looking at the green fields disap-
pearing in the distance, in the dark border of the forest seen
on the horizon. Both felt that from this moment their
life must be spent hero, and in no other place. The sun
had set when they returned to the veranda. They re-
mained there till it grew dark. Standing near her hus-
band, Marinya was silent for a long time, then she said :

-'^ We will live very happily here, Stacli

•<»

— ^' Yes, ni}^ darling ; yes, my beloved one ! " replied
he, pressing her to his heai't.

While they were still on the veranda, from beyond the
birch forest appeared the red moon, and there was heard
the noise of the frogs, seemingly conscious that their
mistress had returned to them, the mistress they had often
seen on the edge of the pond, and their noise seemed
as if saying : " Welcome, welcome, welcome I "

59(3

F]om this clay a new life began for the Polanetzkis
and, tliough not without its cares, tliere was more honey
m It tlian gall. "^

And tlie author of this book partook of this honev in
Jus fantasy. ^

THE END.