I know for certain I shall meet Pani Kromitzka. Her husband has sold
the estate, betaken himself to Baku on business speculation, and has
sent his wife to join her mother at Ploszow; so my aunt tells me in
her letter. I received the news if not indifferently, at least with
perfect composure, but I notice that the impression gradually gained
upon me. At present I cannot think of anything else, as the fact is of
so great importance to the two women. After so short a space as ten
months he sold the estate which over four hundred years had been in
Aniela's family, and to the preservation of which Pani Celina had
devoted her own life. Then comes a Pan Kromitzki and sells it with a
light heart because he wants the money for his speculations. Suppose
he does make millions--will that compensate the women for the loss of
what they prized above money? What will they think of him now? My
aunt writes that she is sitting by Pani Celina's bedside, who after
receiving the news of the sale grew worse at once. I am quite certain
that Aniela, when putting her signature to the deed which empowered
her husband to dispose of the land, did not know what she was signing.
She is even now defending her husband. My aunt quotes from Aniela's
letter: "A great misfortune has happened, but it was not Charles's
fault." Defend him, defend him, O loyal wife; but you cannot prevent
my thinking that he has wounded you deeply, and that at the bottom of
your heart you despise him. Neither kisses nor soft words will efface
from your memory the one word "sold." And Pani Celina thought that
after the marriage he would devote his money towards clearing off the
debts and disincumbering the property! Dear ladies, I, a man who does
not boast of civic virtues, would not have done it, if for no other
reason than innate delicacy of feeling, affection for you, and fear to
wound you. But for speculations, ready money is wanted. I hope it is
not merely prejudice, but these millions I heard so much about appear
to me like a great point of interrogation. Maybe he will get them;
perhaps the capital realized from the sale will help him towards it;
but if he had possessed the wealth he used to boast of, would he have
dealt his wife and mother-in-law such a blow, and sold their ancestral
seat? My aunt writes that he left immediately after the sale for Baku,
and intends to go as far as Turkestan. Aniela being too young to live
by herself must needs come to Ploszow, as her mother cannot leave it
at present, because she is too ill to travel; and besides my aunt will
not let her go, and she is afraid of crossing her in any way. I know
Aniela too well to suspect her of any calculations. She is the very
essence of disinterestedness. But the mother, who would grasp all the
world for her only child, doubtless counts upon the chance of a legacy
for Aniela. And she is not mistaken either. My aunt, who never quite
believed in Kromitzki's millions, gave me to understand several times
that she meant to do something for Aniela; she said it with a certain
hesitation, almost humbly, as she considers everything ought to go to
a Ploszowski, and that to leave anything to another would be a wrong
to the family. How little she knows me! If Aniela were in want of a
pair of shoes and I had to sell Ploszow and give all I possess, she
should have them. I might be prompted by a less noble motive,--for
instance, to appear different from a Kromitzki,--but from whatever
motive, I should give it certainly. But there is no question of that
now. I am thinking continually that she is living at Ploszow, and will
remain there as long as Kromitzki's journeys last, which may be God
only knows for how long. I shall see Pani Kromitzka every day. At the
thought of this I feel a certain uneasiness, with a strong admixture
of curiosity as to our future relations towards each other; and I
clearly see what might happen if my disposition and feelings in regard
to her were different. I never lie to myself; I repeat again that I
am going there in order to cure myself, that I do not love Pani
Kromitzka, and never will love her; that on the contrary, I am in
hope that the sight of her will drive Aniela out of my heart far more
successfully than all the fiords and geysers; but I would not be
myself, the man who has lived much and thought much, if I did not see
the danger which under other circumstances such a position might bring
forth.
If I wanted to revenge myself, if the very name Pani Kromitzka did not
excite my loathing, what could stand in my way or hinder me,--in
quiet Ploszow, where would be we two only, and the elder ladies, as
unsuspicious and unsophisticated in their stainless virtue as any
babies? In regard to this I know my aunt and Pani Celina. In the
higher spheres of society one meets sometimes women thoroughly
corrupted; but there are many, especially among the older generation,
who pass through life like angels, with no thought of evil ever coming
near them. Neither my aunt nor Pani Celina would ever dream of any
danger threatening Aniela now she is married. Aniela herself belongs
to that kind. She would not have rejected my prayers had she not given
her word to Kromitzki. But Polish women of this kind would rather
break a heart than break their word. At the very thought of it a dull
wrath seizes me. I crush down within me the desire every one has to
prove the truth of his opinion. I do not want to argue at all with
Pani Kromitzka, but if somebody else would do it,--point out to women
like her that the laws of nature, laws of affection, cannot be broken
with impunity, that they are stronger than any ethic laws, I should be
glad of it. It is true I have sinned in regard to Aniela, but I wished
to make amendment from the very depth of my heart, and she rejected
me,--rejected me perhaps so as to be able to say to herself: "I am not
a Leon Ploszowski; I have given a promise, and do not take it back."
This is not virtue, it is want of heart; it is not heroism, but
foolishness; not rectitude of conscience, but vanity. I cannot forget,
I cannot; but Pani Kromitzka will help me. When I come to see her in
her new matronly dignity, satisfied with her heroism, self-possessed,
in love, or apparently so, with her husband, watching me furtively to
see whether I have been punished, and punished sufficiently, full of
happiness and her own virtues, the ghost of my old love will be laid,
and I can go back to where the reindeer lives without Aniela's memory
following me like the sea-gulls in the track of ships.
It is possible that Pani Kromitzka will put on the airs of an injured
victim, and her whole manner to me may say: "It is your fault!" Very
well. We have seen some of that in the world. As artificial flowers
have one defect, the want of scent, artificial crowns of thorn have
one advantage, they do not prick, and may be worn as a bonnet, very
becoming to a pretty face. Whenever I met one of those victims who
married out of despair I felt a desire to say: "It is not true! you
were a victim maybe in good faith as long as the chosen one did not
approach you in his slippers. From that moment you ceased to be
pathetic, and are only ridiculous, and the more so if you pose as a
victim."