IX

Dolhanski, however, completely subdued his fiancee and his future

mother-in-law, inasmuch as he prevailed upon them to call personally

upon Hanka and invite her to the wedding. They were prompted to this by

the consideration that at any rate it behooved them to preserve the

outward semblance of good relations with their future neighbors from

Jastrzeb, and they were persuaded in particular by the news, which he

brought from the high spheres, that "high life" was reconciled to the

idea of admitting Hanka into its fold, while he, on the other hand,

wanted to see her at a close range in the church. After their visit,

during which the mother and daughter, under the watchful eye of

Dolhanski, acted not only properly but quite amiably, Pani Krzycki

revoked her resolution, of not attending the nuptial rites.

These took place early in the week at the Church of the Order of

Visitation in the presence of a great concourse of dames from the

"grand world" and Dolhanski's titled colleagues from the club. In this

the desire to take a close view of the peasant-millionairess played as

important a part as the wish to see Dolhanski. Those of his

acquaintances who knew the ladies from Gorek had previously stated that

he was taking a lady of wealth, but old and ludicrous; in consequence

of which these good colleagues wanted to see what kind of mien he

would have, so that they might afterwards have a subject for their

gibes and jests. But in this respect they met with the most complete

disappointment. Dolhanski, escorted on one side by Gronski, on

the other by Count Gil, walked through the church with such

self-confidence, such sangfroid, and with such a smile on his lips, as

though he had the right and desire to jeer at his colleagues. The tall

and gaunt young lady did not, after all, look so badly in her lace

wedding dress. She had too much powder on her face; her veil was too

long, and too much did she "tremble like a leaf," which created an

impression that this leaf did that a little purposely.

There was nothing in her, however, to excite ridicule, and, when the

two knelt before the altar, the dames and beaux, looking from the depth

of the church, had to admit that in her slender white form there was

some charm. But the eyes of those present were directed principally at

Hanka who glided through the nave on Ladislaus' arm, like a light

spring cloud. To the gentlemen of the club it seemed that from the

moment of her entrance the church grew brighter. Count Gil, who found

himself near her, behind the stalls, later stated in a certain salon

that a rosy warmth radiated from her. Others at once corroborated this

and to the mot of a dame that in order to find favor in men's eyes it

was necessary that one must not only be a woman but also a radiator,

they replied that it was absolutely necessary.

In the meanwhile they envied Ladislaus Mr. Anney's millions and Hanka,

who so absorbed to herself the general attention that Pani Otocka and

Marynia passed by almost unobserved. Neither appeared to the best

advantage that day. In Pani Otocka, Dolhanski's marriage aroused a

certain disgust, which was reflected in her countenance, and Marynia

opened her lips too widely out of curiosity, and besides, her bared

arms were so thin and, as usual with immature girls, were so red that,

they could only excite compassion. The ladies of the "grand world,"

besides, did not look at one or the other for the further reason that

Ladislaus, with his stature and visage of a Uhlan of the time of the

Duchy of Warsaw, became the focus upon which the rays of their

tortoise-shell lorgnettes were converged.

With the appearance of the priest silence fell and the rites began. The

lorgnettes were now directed towards the altar. In the distance could

be seen floating under the orange blossoms the bridal veil and

Dolhanski's head, somewhat bald at the summit, over which crept the

reflexes of the candles flickering in the dusk. Krzycki, bending

towards Hanka, began to whisper: "And we will soon--" and she dropped

her eyelids in sign of assent; after which when their eyes met, she

blushed violently and raised her lace handkerchief to her lips, and

later fixed her gaze upon the altar, for she recalled to her mind how,

not long before, the candles flickered in the same manner in the Church

of the Holy Cross, when together they prayed for their future

happiness. Yes, soon they would kneel there again in order not to be

separated for life, and this thought, so full of sweetness and at the

same time of uneasiness of feeling, expanded her breast.

In the meanwhile in the silence could be heard the voice of the priest:

"Edward, do you take Kajetana, whom you see before you, for wife?" and

when Dolhanski firmly confirmed this and Kajetana mumbled that she

wanted this Edward, their hands were bound by the stole and the rites

rapidly approached an end; then the hymeneal party left the church. The

bridal couple were to leave for a tour abroad within two hours, but

before that in the dining-hall of the hotel a dinner awaited them, to

which, of the relatives of the groom, only Pani Krzycki, Ladislaus,

Hanka, as his betrothed, and the sisters were invited; of the more

distant, Gronski and Count Gil, as groomsmen attended. The dinner with

the inevitable toasts did not last long; after it the newly-married

pair repaired to their separate apartments and after a certain time

reappeared attired in their travelling clothes. Then began the usual

bustle preceding a journey; trunks, small luggage, and bright

travelling paraphernalia were hauled out. Dolhanski during the dinner

and these last moments displayed such sangfroid and such phlegm that

all the lords of England might envy him. Without the least haste he

conversed with the gentlemen; he expressed his regrets to Marynia that

he could not be at the concert; to Pani Otocka he said that he owed to

her in a great measure his happiness of that day; and afterwards

intrusted Gorek to the neighborly care of Krzycki, and bantered with

Gronski, trying to persuade him to follow in his footsteps.

This superb calmness of his contrasted strangely with the uneasiness

and distraction of the bride. For a half hour before the departure and

immediately after donning her travelling robe, she began to stare at

her mother with an inquiring look as if awaiting from her something

which was overlooked or forgotten and which under no circumstances

ought to be overlooked. This continued so long that it attracted

general attention, and when Pani Wlocek did not appear to understand

the inquiring look, Kajetana beckoned her for a confidential talk in a

room adjoining the dining-hall.

To the ears of the guests there began to reach for a quarter of an hour

some alarming though muffled cries of, "Ah!" and "Oh!" and after an

interval the bride entered with her eyes covered by her palms. But

after a while she dropped her hands alongside her dress and gazing at

Dolhanski with the look of an antelope at a lion, she asked in an

almost inaudible voice:

"Edward, perhaps it is already time?"

Gronski, Krzycki, and Count Gil bit their lips, while Dolhanski glanced

at his watch and said:

"We have yet five minutes."

X

The cloudlets looming between Hanka and Ladislaus began by degrees to

be transformed into clouds. At times they ceased to mutually understand

each other. Hanka was more and more disturbed by the thought whether

Ladislaus, notwithstanding his good heart and his ability to appreciate

everything which is exalted and noble, was not a weak character, that

in a moment of sudden impulse or passionate ecstasy is unable to resist

and cannot muster within himself sufficient strength, even though his

own worth is involved, and at this thought she was oppressed by a deep

sorrow. But she was yet more painfully nettled on another side of the

matter. This was that she arrived at the conviction that his feelings

towards her were better, purer and, as it were, more shy at the time

when he thought that she was Miss Anney. She remembered various

moments, both in Jastrzeb and in Warsaw, in which she was certain that

this burning flame of love, which glowed in his heart, was at the same

time a sacrificial flame of esteem. And now when she had told him that

she is the former Hanka that pure fire has changed into an ignition of

the senses. Why? Was the cause of this their former sin; was it that

she was a peasant? In the answer to those questions lay the pain, for

Hanka felt that whatever happened was the result of these causes.

But she was mistaken in thinking that Ladislaus did not understand that

just for these two reasons he ought to act directly contrary, in order

to efface in her the memory of sin and to raise her in her own eyes and

to respect her as his future wife. He understood this quite clearly,

and often it happened that after parting from her he upbraided himself,

not mincing words, and in his soul made a solemn promise of

reformation. But as in his easy life he had not accustomed himself to

contend with anything and, above all, with himself, therefore this

lasted but a short time--as long only as he was away from her, as long

as he was not enveloped by the warmth emanating from her; only when he

was not absorbed with her eyes; did not feel her hand in his own, and

did not intoxicate himself with her feminine attractions. Then reason

blinded in him and darkened; he became the slave of blood, full of

sophisms, the agent of senses, and the recollection of the former

Hanka, instead of repressing the temptation, only increased it the

more.

Under such conditions, sooner or later, the storm had to break above

the heads of both and create desolation. Accordingly it burst sooner

than Krzycki could have foreseen.

One day, coming at the twilight hour to Hanka, he found her in a

strange and unusual condition. She was agitated, her countenance was

suffused with blushes, her eyes were red, and the hand which she

tendered to him, palpably trembled. At the beginning she did not want

to tell him what was the matter, but when they sat beside each other,

he began to beg of her that she would not make anything a secret with

him, but to tell him what occurred, not only as a fiance, but as her

best friend.

Hanka was always conciliated by an appeal to friendship. Therefore

after a while she said, smiling sadly:

"I was not concerned about any secret but I preferred to keep to myself

an unpleasantness. Did you, sir, ever notice my servant, Pauly?"

(Hanka from a certain time addressed her fiance as "sir," believing

that in this manner she would hold him more easily at a proper

distance.)

"Pauly?" repeated Ladislaus, and though, after all, he thus far had

done nothing with which to reproach himself, a sudden disquiet arose in

him. "Pauly? Why of course! Why, she was at Jastrzeb and I saw her here

everyday. What happened?"

"She created for me a horribly disagreeable scene and has left me."

"Why?"

"That is just what I do not know. She always was very violent and

nervous, but very honest. So I was attached to her and I thought that

she would be attached to me. But for some time I have observed in her

something like a dislike to me, with each day greater. Really, I never

was harsh to her; even the contrary. So I attributed everything to the

nerves. In the meantime, to-day, it came to an outburst and it is so

disagreeable to me! so disagreeable!"

Hanka's voice faltered, and it could be seen that she felt the whole

occurrence deeply. So Ladislaus pressed her hand to his lips and asked

with sympathy:

"What kind of outburst was it?"

"This afternoon, or rather after Marynia's return from the rehearsal,

we were to ride up town with Zosia. So, desiring to change my dress, I

ordered her to hand it to me. Pauly went after it as usual and brought

it, but suddenly she threw it upon the ground and began to trample upon

it, and in addition screamed in a loud, shrill voice that she would

serve me no longer. At first I was stupefied, for it occurred to me

that she had become insane."

"She surely is insane!" interrupted Ladislaus; "but what further?"

"She slammed the door and left. I did not see her any more. About an

hour later somebody came for her things and wages."

Here Hanka began to shake her head.

"And nevertheless when I recall her dislike and what she told me in the

last moments, I do not think that it was an attack of insanity; it was

only an outburst of hatred, which she could no longer restrain in

herself. And for me this is such a disappointment, such a

disappointment!"

"My lady--Hanus," said Ladislaus, seizing both of her hands, "is it

worth while to take to heart the deed of a foolish vixen? For she is a

foolish vixen--nothing more. It is enough to look at her. Calm

yourself, Hanus,--this is only a momentary matter which it is necessary

to forget as soon as possible. Remember who you are and who she is!

Such times have come that everything is turned topsy-turvy. Such

occurrences now take place everywhere. But they will pass away. In the

meantime we two have so many reasons for joy that in view of them such

wretched smarts ought to disappear."

And he began to press alternately her hands to his lips and to his

breast and gaze in her eyes, but this increased her grief; for Hanka

desiring to spare unnecessary disagreeableness to her betrothed and

herself did not confess everything to him. She was particularly

reticent about this, that the infuriated servant, on leaving, screamed

at her in her eyes, "You base peasant. You ought to serve me, not I

you! Your place is with cows, not in the palace!" Perhaps Hanka might

not have taken these words so much to heart were it not for the

previous friction in her relations with Ladislaus, and were it not for

the thought that he transgressed certain bounds perhaps because she was

his former sweetheart and a peasant. But just this reason caused the

thorn to be imbedded in her heart more deeply and bred in her a fear as

to future life in which similar scenes might be repeated more

frequently.

So, also, his words about the happiness awaiting them were only drops

overflowing the cup of bitterness, and his caresses affected the

aggrieved girl like a child, who the more she is consoled the more

disconsolate she becomes. There came to her a moment of weakness and

exhaustion. The usual strength deserted her, her nerves were unstrung,

and she began to sob, but feeling at the same time ashamed of her tears

she buried her face in his breast.

"Hanus, my Hanus!" repeated Ladislaus.

And he began to kiss her light hair. Afterwards clasping her temples

with his palms, he raised her tear-stained face and kissed off her

tears. She did not defend herself; so after a while he sought with his

mouth her quivering lips.

"Hanus! Hanus!" he whispered in a panting voice.

The ferment of desire more and more obscured his reason, obscured his

heart, his memory. He drank from the girl's lips while his breath held

out, he forgot himself like a drunkard and finally seized her in his

arms.

"Hanus! Hanus!"

And it happened that he offended her grievously, that to the

humiliation, which she had met that day, he added a new humiliation; to

insult, a new insult--that an abyss plainly separated them!