Whether Stawowski was taken aback by the unexpected opposition, or whether he really had never put the two things together, the fact was that he was at a loss for a ready answer, grew confused, and did not even venture upon the expression “altruism,” which, after all, says very little.

The hero of the evening worsted, the conservatives came over to me in a body, and I might have become the hero now; but it was getting late, I was bored, and wanted to get back to Ploszow.  Gradually the others too began to disperse.  I was already in my fur coat and searching for my eyeglasses, that had slipped between the coat and furs, when Stawowski, who evidently had found his answer, came up to me and said:—­

“You asked why—­”

I, still searching for the eyeglasses and rather put out, said impatiently:—­

“Plainly speaking, the question does not interest me very much.  It is getting late and everybody is leaving; besides I can guess what you are going to say, therefore permit me to wish you good-night.”

I fancy I have made an enemy of the man, especially by my last remark.

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:—­