A surprise was waiting at home for Pan Stanislav; he found the
following despatch from Pani Emilia, "I leave here for home to-morrow
evening; Litka is well." This return was unexpected, or at least
uncommonly hurried; but since the despatch contained an assurance
as to Litka's health, Pan Stanislav understood that Pani Emilia was
returning for the sole purpose of occupying herself with his affair,
and his heart rose in gratitude. "There is an honest nature," said he
to himself; "that is a friend." And with thankfulness there rose in
his heart such hope, as if Pani Emilia had the ring of an enchantress,
or a magic rod, with which she could change the heart of Panna Marynia
in an instant. Pan Stanislav did not know clearly how this could be
done; but he knew that one person at least wished him well with deep
sincerity, would speak for him, would justify him, would exalt his
heart and character and diminish prejudices, which the course of events
had accumulated against him. He calculated that Pani Emilia would be
very persevering, and that for her this would be a question of duty. A
man who is troubled by something is glad to find a person on whom to
put responsibility. So in moments of rising bitterness, especially,
it seemed to Pan Stanislav that Pani Emilia was responsible for his
relations with Marynia; for if she had not shown that letter from which
Marynia's readiness to love him was evident, he would have been able
to take his mind and heart from her. Perhaps this was true, since in
the history of his feelings this letter did in fact play a leading
part. It showed him how near happiness had been, almost secured; to
what extent in her own mind Marynia had given him heart and soul. It
is more difficult to throw away happiness which is not only desired,
but begun; and, had it not been for that letter, Pan Stanislav might
have regretted the past less, forgotten it more easily, and reconciled
himself to the position more readily. At present he thought it even
her duty to help him with all her power. Finally, he understood that
the affair would move, as it were, of itself; he hoped to see Marynia
often, and in conditions most favorable, since he would see her in a
house where he was loved and esteemed, and where like feelings must
be communicated to each guest. All this strengthened Pan Stanislav's
hope; but it added new links to those which bound his thoughts to
Marynia. Previously he had promised himself not to go to Bigiel's (on
Sunday); now he changed his decision, thinking that, if only health
permitted, Pani Emilia too would take part in the trip. Aside from
reasons connected with Marynia, he rejoiced from his whole soul to
see the beloved faces of Pani Emilia and Litka, who were his greatest
attachments in life so far.
That same evening he wrote a few words to Plavitski touching the
arrival, supposing that Marynia would be thankful for that information;
he gave notice at Pani Emilia's, so that servants would be waiting in
the morning with tea; and he hired a commodious carriage to take her
and Litka to their home.
Next morning at five he was at the station; while waiting for the
train, he began to run briskly along the platform to warm himself
somewhat, since the morning was cool. Remote objects, the station
buildings, and the cars standing on the near rails, were sunk in fog,
which, very dense near the ground, became rose-colored and shining
higher up, announcing that the day would be pleasant. Except officials
and servants, there was no one on the platform yet, because of the
early hour; gradually, however, people began to arrive. All at once
two forms came out of the fog; in one of these Pan Stanislav, with
beating heart, recognized Marynia, who was hastening, with her maid, to
greet Pani Emilia. As he had not expected the meeting, he was greatly
confused at the first moment. She stopped short, as if astonished or
troubled. After a while, however, he approached and extended his hand
to her,--
"Good-day!" said he. "And truly it will be a good day for us both if
our travellers arrive."
"Then is it not certain?" asked Marynia.
"Of course it is certain, unless something unlooked for prevents. I
received a despatch yesterday, and sent the news to Pan Plavitski,
thinking that you would be glad to hear it."
"Thank you. The surprise was so pleasant!"
"The best proof of that is that you have risen so early."
"I have not lost the habit of early rising yet."
"We came too soon. The train will arrive only in half an hour.
Meanwhile I advise you to walk, for the morning is cool, though the day
promises to be fine."
"The fog is clearing," said Marynia, raising her blue eyes, which to
Pan Stanislav seemed violet in the light of the morning.
"Do you wish to walk along the platform?"
"Thank you; I prefer to sit in the waiting-room."
And, nodding, she went away. Pan Stanislav began to fly with hurried
steps along the platform. It was somewhat bitter to think that she
would not remain; but he explained to himself that perhaps this was
not proper, and, besides, the bitterness was overcome by the pleasant
thought of how the coming of Pani Emilia would bring them nearer,
and how many meetings it would cause. A certain wonderful solace and
good-humor continued to rise in him. He thought of the violet eyes of
Marynia, and her face made rosy by the coolness of the morning; he
rushed past the windows of the hall in which she was sitting, and said
to himself almost joyfully,--
"Ah, ha! sit there, hide thyself! I will find thee." And he felt with
greater force than ever how dear she might become to him, if she
would be kind even in a small degree. Meanwhile bells sounded; and a
few minutes later, in the fog, still dense at the earth, though the
sky above was blue, appeared the dim outlines of the train, which,
as it approached, became more clearly defined. The engine, puffing
interrupted clumps of smoke, rolled in with decreasing movement, and,
stopping, began with noise and hissing to belch forth under its front
wheels the useless remnant of steam.
Pan Stanislav sprang to the sleeping-car; the first face at the window
was Litka's, which at sight of him grew as radiant as if a sudden
sunbeam had fallen on it. The little girl's hands began to move
joyously, beckoning to Pan Stanislav, who was in the car in one moment.
"My dearest little kitten!" cried he, seizing Litka's hand, "and hast
thou slept; art thou well?"
"I am well; and we have come home. And we'll be together--and good-day,
Pan Stas!"
Right behind the little girl stood Pani Emilia, whose hand "Pan Stas"
kissed very cordially; and he began to speak quickly, as people do at
time of greeting,--
"Good day to the dear lady. I have a carriage. You can go at once.
My servant will take your baggage; I ask only for the check. They are
waiting for you at home with tea. Pray give the check. Panna Plavitski
is here too."
Panna Plavitski was waiting, in fact, outside the car; and she and
Pani Emilia shook hands, with faces full of smiles. Litka looked for a
moment at Marynia, as if hesitating; after a while, however, she threw
herself on her neck with her usual cordiality.
"Marynia, thou wilt go with us to tea," said Pani Emilia. "It is ready,
and thou art fasting, of course."
"Thou art tired, travelling all night."
"From the boundary we slept as if killed; and when we woke, we had time
to wash and dress. In every case we must drink tea. Thou wilt go with
us?"
"I will, with the greatest pleasure."
But Litka began to pull at her mother's dress.
"Mamma, and Pan Stas."
"But, naturally, Pan Stas too,--he thought of everything. Thanks to
him, everything is ready. He must go with us, of course."
"He must; he must!" cried Litka, turning to Pan Stanislav, who
answered, smiling,--
"Not he must; but he wants to."
And after a moment all four took their places in the carriage. Pan
Stanislav was in excellent humor. Marynia was before him, and at
his side little Litka. It seemed to him that the morning brightness
was entering him, and that better days were beginning. He felt that
henceforth he would belong to an intimate circle of beings bound
together by comradeship and friendship, and in that circle would be
Marynia. Now she was sitting there before him, near his eye, and near
the friendship which both felt for Pani Emilia and Litka. Meanwhile all
four were talking joyously.
"What has happened, Emilka," asked Marynia, "that thou hast come so
soon?"
"Litka begged so every day to come home."
"Dost not like to live abroad?" asked Pan Stanislav.
"No."
"Homesick for Warsaw?"
"Yes."
"And for me? Now tell quickly, or it will be bad."
Litka looked at her mother, at Marynia, and then at Pan Stanislav; and
at last she said,--
"And for Pan Stas too."
"Take this for that!" said Pan Stanislav, and he seized her little hand
to kiss it; but she defended herself as she could. At last she hid her
hand. He, turning to Marynia, and showing his sound white teeth, said,--
"As you see, we are always quarrelling; but we love each other."
"That is the way generally," answered Marynia.
And he, looking her straight and honestly in the eyes, said,--
"Oh that it were the way generally!"
Marynia blushed slightly and grew more serious, but said nothing, and
began to converse with Pani Emilia.
Pan Stanislav turned to Litka.
"But where is Professor Vaskovski? Has he gone to Italy?"
"No. He stopped at Chenstohova, and will come the day after to-morrow."
"Is he well?"
"He is."
Here the little girl looked at her friend, and said,--
"But Pan Stas has grown thin; hasn't he, mamma?"
"Indeed he has," answered Pani Emilia.
Pan Stanislav was changed somewhat, for he had been sleeping badly, and
the cause of that sleeplessness was sitting before him in the carriage.
But he laid the blame on cares and labor in his business. Meanwhile
they arrived at Pani Emilia's.
When the lady went to greet her servants, Litka ran after her. Pan
Stanislav and Marynia remained alone in the dining-room.
"You have no nearer acquaintance here, I suppose, than Pani Emilia?"
said Pan Stanislav.
"None nearer; none so beloved."
"In life kindness is needed, and she is very kind and well-wishing.
I, for example, who have no family, can look on this as the house of
a relative. Warsaw seems different to me when they are here." Then he
added, with a voice less firm, "This time I comfort myself also with
their arrival, because there will be at last something mutual and
harmonious between us."
Here he looked at her, with a prayer in his eyes, as if he wished to
say, "Give me a hand in conciliation; be kind to me, too, since a
pleasant day has come to us."
But she, just because she could not be for him altogether indifferent,
went always farther in the direction of dislike. The more he showed
cordial kindness, the more sympathetic he was, the more his action
seemed to her unheard of, and the more offended she felt at heart.
Having a delicate nature, and being, besides, rather timid, and feeling
really that a reply, if too ill-natured, might spoil the day's harmony,
she preferred to be silent; but he did not need an answer in words,
for he read in her eyes as follows: The less you try to improve our
relations, the better they will be; and they will be best if most
distant. His joy was quenched in one moment; anger took its place, and
regret, still stronger than anger,--for it rose from that charm which
nothing could conquer, and to which Pan Stanislav yielded himself with
the conviction, too, that the gulf between him and Marynia was in
reality growing deeper each day. And now, looking on her sweet and kind
face, he felt that she was as dear as she was lost irrecoverably.
The arrival of Litka put an end to that interval, grievous to him
beyond description. The little girl ran in with great delight, her
hair in disorder, a smile on her lips; but seeing them, she stopped
suddenly, and looked now at one, now at the other, with her dark eyes.
At last she sat down quietly at a table with tea. Her joyousness had
vanished too, though Pan Stanislav, confining the pain in his heart,
strove to talk and be gladsome.
But he turned scarcely any attention to Marynia; he occupied himself
only with Pani Emilia and Litka; and, wonderful thing! Marynia felt
that as an additional bitterness. To the series of offences still
another was added.
On the following day Pani Emilia and Litka were invited to tea in the
evening at the Plavitskis'. Plavitski invited Pan Stanislav too, but he
did not go. And such is human nature that this again touched Marynia.
Dislike, as well as love, demands an object. Involuntarily Marynia
looked toward the door all the evening, till the hour struck in which
it was certain that Pan Stanislav would not come; then she began to
coquet so with Mashko that she transfixed Pani Emilia with amazement.