It was one o'clock when I arrived at Ploszow, and there a pleasant
surprise awaited me; Aniela was sitting up to make some tea for me. I
found her in the dining-room, still fully dressed, with the exception
of her hair, which was done up for the night. From the intense delight
I felt in seeing her thus unexpectedly, I perceived how deeply she had
entered into my heart. What a dear girl she is, and how pretty she
looks with the tresses coiled low down her neck. And to think that I
have only to say the word and in a month or two I might have the right
to undo those tresses and let them fall on her shoulders. I cannot
think of it quietly. It seems past all belief that happiness should be
so easy to get.
I began to scold her a little for sitting up so late, and she
replied:--
"But I was not in the least sleepy, and begged mamma and aunty to let
me sit up for you. Mamma would not allow it, said it was not proper;
but I explained to her that we were cousins, and that makes all the
difference. And do you know who took my part?--auntie."
"Dear aunt! You will take some tea with me, will you not?"
I watched her handling the cups with those deft, graceful fingers, and
felt a desire to kiss them.
She looked at me now and then, but upon meeting my eyes her eyelashes
drooped. Presently she inquired how I had spent the evening, and what
impressions I had carried away. We spoke in a low voice, though the
sleeping-rooms were far enough away to make it unnecessary. There was
such confidence and heartiness in our intercourse as among relatives
who are fond of each other.
I told her what I had seen and noticed, as one tells a friend. I spoke
about the general impression the society of the country makes upon a
man that has chiefly lived abroad. She listened quietly with wide-open
eyes, happy to be thus taken into confidence. Then she said:--
"Why do you not write about all that, Leon? That I do not think
of such things is not to be wondered at; but nobody else here has
thoughts like these."
"Why do I not write?" I replied. "There are many reasons for it. I
will explain to you some time; one of them is that I have nobody near
me who, like you, says: 'Leon, why do you not do something?'"
After this we both became silent. I had never seen Aniela's lashes
veil her eyes so closely, and I could almost hear the beating of her
heart.
And indeed she had a right to expect me to say: "Will you remain with
me always and put the same question?" But I found such a keen delight
in skirting the precipice before making the final plunge, and feeling
that heart palpitating almost in my hand that I could not do it.
"Good-night," I said, after a short time.
And that angelic creature gave not the slightest sign that she had met
with a disappointment. She rose, and with the least touch of sadness
in her voice, but no impatience, replied: "Good-night."
We shook hands and parted for the night. My hand was already on the
latch, when I turned round and saw her still standing near the table.
"Aniela! Tell me," I said, "do you not think me a fantastic kind of
man, full of whims and fancies?"
"Oh, no, not fantastic; sometimes I think you a little strange, but
then I say to myself that men like you are bound to be different from
others."
"One question more; when was it you thought me strange the first
time?"
Aniela blushed to the tips of her ears. How pretty she looked with the
pink flame spreading over her face and neck.
"No, I could not tell you."
"Then let me guess, and if I am right say yes. It is a single word."
"What word?" she asked, with increased confusion.
"Tablets. Yes, or no?"
"Yes," said Aniela, with drooping eyes.
"Then I will tell you why I wrote those words. First, because I wanted
a link connecting us together, a little secret shared by both of us,
and also--"