VI

Ladislaus, while his mother was in church and consulting the prelate,

repaired, notwithstanding the early hour, to Pani Otocka. At the very

beginning he raised to his lips both of her hands and kissed them so

long that she, from that act alone, perceived his intentions.

"I knew it would be so! I knew it!" she cried with emotion and joy.

While he replied in a soft quivering voice:

"I did not require a week to perceive that I cannot live without her."

"I knew it," Zosia once more repeated. "Have you spoken with your

mother, yet?"

"No. Yesterday, I ran about the city senselessly, after which I rushed

to Gronski's and went to the hotel very late, and this morning I was

informed that Mother was in church."

Pani Otocka again became anxious.

"Yesterday," she said, "she was very angry and God grant that she may

be reconciled, for on this all depends."

"Not all," answered Ladislaus; "not to speak of my great attachment for

Mother, I esteem her immensely; and God sees that I would be pleased

always to conform to her will. But that has its limits; when the

happiness, not only of myself, but of the being most precious to me in

the world, is concerned, then I cannot sacrifice that under any

circumstances; I have pondered over this all night. I have a hope that

Mother will consent; as I trust in her character and in that love which

she has always shown to me. If, however, contrary to my hopes, it

should appear otherwise, then I will tell her that this is a resolution

which cannot now be and will not be revoked."

"Maybe there is no necessity for that," said Pani Otocka, "for Aninka

also is concerned. Yesterday, after the letter which she wrote to you

and after Pan Gronski's departure, we talked until late at night. She

was very nervous and cried, but spoke thus: 'If he returns to me, not

joyfully and with entire good-will, but only because he did not want to

withdraw his word, then I will never consent to it. There is no pride

in me. I did not even reckon with my own self-love, and wrote to him

sincerely what was in my heart, but even if it should break I would not

wed him, if it shall seem to him that he is lowering himself for me.'"

"The dear, lovely creature!" interrupted Ladislaus.

Pani Otocka continued:

"After that she began to cry, and added that she would not consent to

be the cause of an estrangement between mother and son."

"No, I repeat once more that my resolution cannot and shall not be

revoked. Here my whole life is involved--and even if now Mother cannot

find in her heart sufficient good-will, she will find it later. In the

meantime I will do everything in order that my future wife should have

in her also a mother, affectionate and grateful for her son's

happiness."

"Can I repeat that to Miss Anney?"

"That is just what I came for. But I have yet one more prayer. She took

my word that for a week I would not return to her and she alone can

release me from it. But in view of what I came here for, this would be

downright, needless torture. Neither a week nor a year can change

anything. Nothing, absolutely! Will Cousin deign to tell her that and

beg of her from me, but beg very cordially, that she release me from my

word?"

"With the greatest pleasure, and I have a hope this will not be a too

difficult matter to adjust."

"I thank you with my whole soul and now I will hurry to Mother."

But before he left the room, Marynia rushed in and began to gaze

sharply, now at her sister, then at Ladislaus. In reality she was not

apprized of the secrets of the former relations between Ladislaus and

Hanka, but she already knew that Miss Anney is the former Hanka; she

knew everything which transpired afterwards and, loving Miss Anney very

much, she was dying from uneasiness and curiosity as to what turn the

affair would take. She was so pretty with that wistful gaze and uneasy

face and, besides, she had such an amusing mien that Ladislaus, in

spite of his emotions, at the sight of her, fell into a good humor.

Zosia remained silent, not knowing whether he wished to speak of his

affair of the heart before Marynia, while he, purposely, for sometime

did not break the silence; finally he approached his little cousin and

squeezing her hand, announced in a sepulchral voice:

"Too late!"

"How too late," she asked alarmed.

"She is going to marry some one else."

"Who?"

"Panna--Kajetana."

And he burst out into a sincere, jolly laugh. Marynia conjectured that

matters could not stand so badly since Ladislaus was jesting. Desiring,

however, to learn fully the good news, she began to stamp with her foot

and importune like a child.

"But how?--now, honestly. I could not sleep to-day! How? now, honestly.

How?"

"Honestly, that hope and joy and happiness--there!" answered Ladislaus,

pointing in the direction of Miss Anney's quarters.

After which, kissing his cousins' hands, he rushed out like a stone

whirled from a sling, for he was in a great hurry.

On the way he grew grave and even gloomy at the thought that the moment

for his decisive interview with his mother was approaching.

He found her in the hotel, where she awaited him in her own room. The

sight of his mother's face, serene and filled with an unusual kind of

sweetness, gave him, for the time being, encouragement, but at the same

time he thought that gentle persuasion, entreaties, and perhaps tears,

would be heavier to bear than anger--and he asked in an uncertain

voice:

"Did Mamma read her letter?"

"I did," she answered, "but even before that I learned almost

everything from Zosia, whom Miss Anney herself begged not to conceal

anything from me."

"Gronski told me that Mamma became angry at Zosia?"

"Yes, that is so, but that can be rectified. Now I want above all

things to talk with you sincerely."

So Ladislaus began to narrate how in the first moments he was struck as

if by a thunderbolt and how he could not reconcile himself to the

thought that Hanka and Miss Anney were one and the same person. He

confessed his vacillation, his doubts, suspicions, and the pain, which

pierced him; and the internal strife and accounting with his conscience

and everything through which he passed. But only after reading her

letter, did he perceive that this pain had its origin in his love for

her and that the struggle was a struggle with his own heart and

happiness; then he ceased to waver; he could not imagine happiness

otherwise than with that most precious being in the world, and without

her he did not desire it.

After which he said that when he became acquainted with her at

Jastrzeb, as Miss Anney, from almost the first moment he was attracted

to her by some incomprehensible force and she engrossed all his

thoughts. He, of course, esteemed Zosia Otocka highly, and Marynia he

regarded as a bright phenomenon. But admiration and love are two

different things. Besides, he did not owe anything either to Zosia or

to Marynia. They were kind while he was wounded and that was all. But

to Miss Anney he probably owed his life, and he remembered that she for

his sake placed herself in peril. With what could he repay her for

that, and how could he make reparation for the former wrong, committed

while she was still almost a child? Who was the worthier of the two?

Was it he, who forgot and lived from day to day an easy, thoughtless,

and spiritually slothful life, or she whom no new attachments could

reconcile to their separation and who ennobled her mind and heart

through suffering, yearning, and labor? "I scarcely dare to believe.

Mother," said he, "that she not only absolves my injury, but has not

ceased to love me. Perhaps it happened thus, because it was I who, for

the first time in her life opened for her the doors to the world of

happiness, but undoubtedly it was because hers is a totally exceptional

nature. Yes, Mother! She is one of those who, in a pristine state even

at the time when they are unable to realize things, possess that noble

instinct, that sort of elevation of feeling that love ennobles indeed

everything, but only when it is great, when it is for a whole lifetime;

and those who love have such strength, such a depth of affection, that

they are incapable of any other affection. But when such a one is

found, then we can only thank God on our knees, and, in plain terms, my

head is confused at the thought that for my transgression I meet with,

not punishment, but fabulously good fortune. It may be that there are

in the world more such women who can make a man happy, but I want to be

happy only with this one; maybe there are others who ennoble and

elevate everything about them, but I feel that through this one I will

be better and better. Finally, this is a question not only of my

happiness but also of my honor."

Here, folding his hands, he began to gaze into her eyes with a pleading

look; after which he continued:

"All this I intrust to Mamma's hands; my whole life, my entire future,

and the peace of my conscience, and happiness and honor."

Pani Krzycki placed both of his palms to her temples and kissed his

forehead.

"My Laudie," she said, "I am an old woman and have various prejudices:

so I will not tell you that from the first moments it was easy for me

to assent to your intentions. Do you know that yesterday I became

enraged at Zosia and until this morning, I persisted in my

determination to oppose as far as it lay in my power your marriage. Be

not surprised at this, since you admit that you were struck as if by

lightning; then think, how it must have affected me, I, as is usual

with a mother, had at the bottom of my soul the conviction that for you

even a king's daughter would not be too high a mate. But it was not

only the old mode of thought, not only a maternal vanity, and not only

prejudices which inflamed my opposition. I feared also for your

happiness. I would not have had anything against the person of Miss

Anney herself, were it not for these other circumstances. I became

acquainted with her at Jastrzeb and loved her sincerely; often I said,

God grant that all our ladies could be like her. But learning who she

is and what took place between you, I became alarmed at first at the

thought that you might have committed similar offences in Jastrzeb."

"No, Mamma," answered Krzycki; "I give my word for that."

"For you see I thought you were absolutely pure; so think what a blow

it was to me."

Ladislaus bowed to her hands, in order to hide his face, for

notwithstanding the gravity of the moment, notwithstanding his sincere

emotion and anxiety, the naivete of his mother seemed to him something

so unheard-of that he feared he might betray himself by an expression

of astonishment, or what was worse, a smile. "Ah," he thought, "it is

lucky that I have to swear only as to Jastrzeb, for I could not tell

mother what I told Gronski, that a wise wolf never takes from that

village where he keeps his lair." But simultaneously it occurred to him

that one must be an angel to have such a delusion, and his adoration of

his mother increased yet more.

And she continued:

"Then I took into consideration the world and the people among whom you

must live. I knew that not a few would commend your conduct, but in

reality you would have to endure a thousand petty annoyances and stings

which would irritate and exasperate you until they caused a pain and

bitterness even in your feeling towards your wife. I was concerned

about your happiness which, in my blindness I craved above all things

for you. And only to-day was the film taken off my eyes. Apparently

such things we know and proclaim, but, nevertheless, with real surprise

and as if it was something new, I heard that happiness is not the most

important thing in life and that it ought not to be the greatest

concern of a mother. And before that my heart was cleansed of its pride

and I was commanded to be guided by my conscience: therefore, my

Laudie, I cannot dissuade you from this marriage."

Ladislaus, hearing this, again bowed his head to his mother's hands and

began to cover them with kisses.

"Ah, Mamma, dear," he repeated, "ah, Mamma, how happy I am!"

"And I," she answered; "for I feared that your feeling might be

superficial, founded upon a delusion and fancy; but, after this

conversation, I see that you love Aninka truly."

"Yes! That is imbedded so deeply that it could only be torn from me

with my life."

"I believe, I believe."

Thus mutually assuring each other, they both spoke with absolute

sincerity, and both at the same time deluded themselves. For Ladislaus

had an inflammable head, greedy senses, and soft heart, but he lived

principally on the exterior, and none of his feelings could spring from

great depths as, on the whole, he was not a deep man.

But his mother, believing every one of his words as she believed in the

gospel, said with great confidence:

"May God bless you, my child. Let us at present speak of what is to

come. I, of course, understand that once having agreed, it is necessary

to agree not with half but with the whole heart: it is necessary to

receive Aninka with open arms and give her to understand that it is she

who is conferring a favor upon us for which we should be grateful."

"Yes, for she does," exclaimed Ladislaus with ardor.

"Very well, very well," answered Pani Krzycki, with a smile, "now it

becomes me to go to her and thank her myself. I assume also that Aninka

will withdraw the condition that you should not call upon her for a

week."

"Zosia is to attend to that, but naturally Mamma's words will be more

effective."

"When do you want me to go?"

Ladislaus again folded his palms:

"At once, Mother dear, at once."

"Very well; will you wait for me here, or at Zosia's?"

"Here; for Zosia might be with Marynia at the rehearsal. She sometimes

accompanies her."

Pani Krzycki rose heavily from the chair, as that day, from the

morning, had been trying for her and the rheumatism held her more and

more strongly. Having, however, straightened out her limbs, she moved

briskly ahead. The thought that she was troubling herself for her boy

made it an agreeable task and exertion.

But on the way she began to think of matters of which thus far there

had been no mention between herself and her son. She belonged to that

type of women, often found among the country nobility, who know

perfectly well how to line the ideal cloak with a real lining. In her

time the entire management of the Jastrzeb estate rested on her head,

and on that account she had a multitude of worries and had habituated

herself to struggle continually with them. So at the present time her

mind turned to the material side of the affair.

"I would consent to this marriage" (she thought as if to justify

herself to herself), "even though Aninka did not have anything, but I

am curious to know how much she can have." After which she began to

fondle the hope that while Aninka might not have millions and for an

Englishwoman might not be very rich, she might have what in Poland

might be regarded as great opulence, though in England it might be

deemed a modest fortune.

And amidst such meditations she rang Miss Anney's door-bell.

The visit passed off as could be expected. Pani Krzycki was honest,

grateful, motherly and, at the moment when she surrendered the life and

happiness of her son to the hands of Miss Anney, "her dear daughter,"

she was, in a measure, pathetic. Miss Anney, too was in a measure,

pathetic, also cordial and simple, quiet and collected as well, but she

seemed to be acting with caution, though nothing whatever was said of

the past. With Pani Krzycki there even remained an impression that

there was by a hairbreadth too much of this "reserve." She understood

perfectly that it would be want of tact on Miss Anney's part if she

displayed too much enthusiasm and conceded that she acted properly, but

nevertheless she carried away at the bottom of her heart a little

disappointment as it were, for there was hidden in her the conviction

that the woman who would get "Laudie" and would bear his name, could be

excused even though she went insane from joy.

Returning to the hotel, she did not, however, confess to her son this

thought, but began to load "Aninka" with praises and speak of her so

warmly that tears stood in the eyes of both. Ladislaus, above all else,

was anxious to know whether the "taboo" was removed and the prohibition

recalled; having learned that such was the case, a quarter of an hour

later, he was at Hanka's feet.

"My beloved, my angel, my wife!" he said, embracing her knees.