Not long before the period to which our story relates, the
“possessor”[12] of the neighboring estate had been changed. The former
neighbor, who had managed to engage in a lawsuit even with the taciturn
Pan Popèlski, in consequence of some damage caused to the fields, had
been replaced by the old man Yaskùlski and his wife. Although the united
ages of this couple amounted to one hundred years, their marriage had
been celebrated but recently, because Yakùb was for a long time unable to
procure the sum required for hiring an estate, and thus was forced to act
as overseer of one estate after another, while Pani Agnyèshka spent her
period of waiting as a sort of companion in the family of the Countess
N. When at last the happy moment arrived, and the bride and bridegroom
stood hand in hand in the church, the hair of the handsome bridegroom
was fairly gray, and the timid, blushing face of the bride was likewise
framed in silvery locks.
This circumstance, however, by no means marred the married happiness of
the somewhat late-wedded pair, and the fruit of their love was an only
daughter about the age of the blind boy. Having won for themselves a
domestic shelter, where under certain conditions they had a right to full
control, this elderly couple began a peaceful and quiet existence, which
seemed like a compensation for the hard years of toil and anxiety which
they had passed in other folks’ houses. Their first lease was a failure,
and they had started anew on a somewhat smaller scale. But in this new
abode they had at once arranged things to suit themselves. In the corner
occupied by the images, decorated with ivy, sacred palm, and a wax
taper,[13] the old lady kept bags filled with herbs and roots, by whose
aid she doctored her husband as well as the peasants who came to consult
her. These herbs would fill the hut with a peculiarly characteristic
fragrance, associated in the minds of the villagers with their memory
of that neat and quiet little house, with the two old persons who dwelt
therein, and whose placid existence offered so unusual a spectacle in
times like these.
Meanwhile the only daughter of this elderly pair was growing up in
their companionship,—a girl with long brown tresses and blue eyes, who
straightway impressed every one that saw her with the uncommon maturity
of her face. It seemed as if the calm love of the parents, finding
fruition so late in life, had been reflected in their daughter’s nature
by a mature judgment, a quiet deliberation in all her movements, and a
certain pensive expression in the depths of her blue eyes. She was never
shy with strangers, willingly made the acquaintance of children and took
part in their games,—which was done however with an air of condescension,
as if she herself really felt no interest in the matter. She was in fact
quite happy in her own society, walking, gathering flowers, talking to
her doll,—and all so demurely that one felt as if in the presence of a
grown-up woman rather than in that of a child.