The races have been fixed a day sooner because of to-morrow's holiday.
Aniela and my aunt arrived this morning with a maid and sundry boxes
containing their racing toilets. The first glance at Aniela filled me
with terror. She does not look well at all; her face is wan and
has lost its former warm color; it seems smaller too, and there is
something misty about her that reminds me of Puvis de Chawannes'
figures. My aunt and her mother do not notice it, because they see her
every day; but to me, after the absence of a few days, the change is
very remarkable. I am seized with contrition and sincere pity. It is
evident that the inward struggle is telling upon her. If she would
only end it, and follow the dictates of a heart that is mine,--a
hundred times mine and pleads for me,--all her troubles would
cease and happiness begin. I am getting deeper and deeper into the
quicksands. It seemed to me that I knew her so well; every detail and
every feature stands out before my eyes when I do not see her, and yet
when I meet her, after a few days' absence, I discover a new charm,
and find something new I like in her. How she satisfies my every
taste, and I am deeply conscious that she is my type,--my only
affinity. This consciousness gives me a belief, half mystic, half
approaching the natural hypothesis, that she was meant for me. When
hearing the sound of wheels, I ran down to meet her, and again had the
sensation one might call falling under the spell; again the reality
seemed to me more perfect than the picture I carry in my heart. She
was dressed in a dust-cloak of Chinese silk; a long gray veil was
twisted round her hat and tied under her chin, and from amid that
frame the dear face, always more like a girl's than a married woman's,
smiled at me. Her greeting was more cheerful and more frank than
usual; it was evident the morning drive and the prospect of a little
pleasure had brightened her spirits; this filled me with delight. I
thought, "She is glad to see me again, and Ploszow appears to her dull
and empty without me." I offered one arm to my aunt and the other to
Aniela, as the staircase is wide enough for three persons, and led
them upstairs. At the sight of all the plants and flowers she uttered
a little cry of wonder.
"It is my surprise," I said.
I pressed her arm slightly, so slightly that it might have passed for
an accidental movement, and then turning to my aunt, said:--
"I am giving a dinner in honor of the Ploszowski success."
My aunt was deeply gratified with my belief in that event. Ah! if she
knew how little I care for Naughty Boy, and all the races the Ploszow
horses might win on all the race-courses of Europe. Aniela evidently
guessed something of this, but she was in such spirits that she only
cast a passing glance at me, and bit her lips to hide a smile.
I well-nigh lost my head. In the covert smile I saw a shade of
coquetry I had never noticed there before. It is impossible, I
thought, that she should have no vanity whatever, and not feel
flattered in the least, on perceiving that all I am doing is done
through her and for her sake.
My aunt divested herself of her travelling-wraps, and without delay
went to inspect Naughty Boy and Aurora, and I showed Aniela the list
of the invited guests.
"I tried to bring together people you like; but if there is anybody
else you would like to have, I will go myself, or send an invitation."
"Show it to aunty;" replied Aniela, "let her decide."
"No; aunty will sit at the head of the table, and we shall go to her
with our congratulations or condolences, as the case may be; but the
part of lady of the house I have assigned to you."
Aniela blushed a little, and, trying to change the conversation,
said:--
"Leon, I do hope Naughty Boy will win; aunty has set her heart upon
it, and will be so vexed if it should turn out otherwise."
"I have won already, because I have as guest under my roof a certain
small person who is sitting opposite me."
"You are making fun; but I am really anxious about it."
"My aunt," I replied, more seriously, "will have some compensation if
she loses. My collections will be in Warsaw in a few weeks, and this
has been the dearest wish of her life. She always tried to make my
father give them to the town. All the papers are full of it, and
praise me to an extent you have no idea of."
The dear face lit up with pleasure.
"Show me; read it to me," she said eagerly.
I had a desire to kiss her hands for that glimpse of brightness. It
was a new proof. If I were indifferent to her, would she rejoice so
much when I am praised?
"Not now," I replied. "I will read it when my aunt comes back, or
rather she must read it, and I will hide my blushes behind you; you,
at least, shall not see how foolish I look."
"Why should you look foolish?"
"Because the thing is not worth all the fuss, and if there be any
merit in it, it is yours, not mine. They ought to praise you. I would
give a good deal if I could tell those journalists: 'If you think well
of it, go _en masse_ and kneel at certain little feet and pour out
your gratitude there!'"
"Leon! Leon!" interrupted Aniela.
"Now do not say a word, lest I should feel tempted to divulge the
great secret."
Aniela did not know what to say. The words were those of a man in
love; but the tone was so playful and jesting that she could not
possibly receive them in a tragic spirit.
I was glad I had discovered a way by which I could convey a deeper
meaning without absolutely frightening her. But I did not take too
much advantage of it, and presently, in a more serious tone, began
telling her about the projected changes in the house.
"The whole story is to be given up to the collections, with the
exception of the room in which you lived last winter. This remains as
it was. I have only permitted myself to adorn it a little for your
reception."
Saying this I led her to the door. Standing on the threshold she
exclaimed with astonishment:--
"Oh, what lovely flowers!"