My aunt looking at us gave a low grunt of contentment. I saw tears
shining in her eyes.
To-morrow we leave here for Ploszow.
PLOSZOW, 5 February.
This is my second day in the country. We had a splendid drive. The
weather was clear and frosty. The snow creaked under the runners of
the sledge and glittered and sparkled in the fields. Towards sunset
the vast plain assumed pink and purple shades. The rooks, cawing and
flapping their wings, flew in and out the lime trees. Winter, the
strong, homely winter, is a beautiful thing. There is a certain vigor
in it, and dignity, and what is more, so much sincerity. Like a true
friend, who, regardless as to consequences, hurls cutting truths,
it smites you between the eyes without asking leave. By way of
compensation it bestows upon you some of its own vigor. We were all
of us glad to leave the town--the elder ladies, that their pet scheme
might be brought to a climax by closer companionship; I, because I was
near Aniela; she, maybe for the same reason, felt happy too. She bent
down several times to kiss my aunt's hands, apropos of nothing, out
of sheer content. She looked very pretty in a long, fluffy boa and
a coquettish fur cap, from under which the dark eyes and the almost
childish face peeped forth.
How young she looks.
I feel at home in Ploszow, it is so quiet and restful; and I like the
huge, old-fashioned chimneys. The woods are to my aunt as the apple of
her eye, but she does not grudge herself fuel; and big logs, which are
crackling and burning there from morning until night, make it look
bright and cheerful. We sat around the fire the whole afternoon. I
brought out some of my reminiscences, and told them about Rome and its
treasures. The three women listened with such devoutness that it made
me feel ridiculous in my own eyes. From time to time, while I was
talking, my aunt cast a searching glance at Aniela to see whether she
expressed enough admiration. But there is too much of that already.
Yesterday she said to me:--
"Another man might spend there his whole life and not see half the
beautiful things you do."