Stanislav Polanyetski was neither a misanthrope nor an artist; neither was he a man proclaiming theories against marriage. On the contrary, he wanted to marry, and he was convinced that he ought to marry. He felt that for him the time had arrived; hence he looked around for the woman. From that came the immense interest which women roused in him, especially unmarried ones. Though he had spent some years in France and Belgium, he had not sought love among married women, even among those who were over giddy. He was an active and occupied person, who contended that only idle men can romance with married women, and in general that besieging other mens wives is possible only where men have very much money, little honor, and nothing to do, consequently in a society where there is a whole class long since enriched, sunk in elegant idleness, and of dishonest life. He was himself, in truth, greatly occupied, hence he wished to love in order to marry; therefore only unmarried women roused in him curiosity of soul and body. When he met a young lady, the first question he asked himself was, Is she not the woman? or at least, Is she not the kind of woman? At present his thoughts were circling around Panna Plavitski in this manner. To begin with, he had heard much of her from her relative living in Warsaw; and he had heard things that were good and even touching. Her calm, mild face was before his eyes now. He recalled her hands, very shapely, with long fingers, though somewhat sunburnt, her dark blue eyes, then the slight shadow over her mouth. Her voice too pleased him. Notwithstanding all this, he repeated his promise that he would make no compromise and must have his own; still he was angry at the fate which had brought him to Kremen as a creditor. Speaking to himself in mercantile language, he repeated in spirit, The quality is good, but I will not reflect, as I did not come for it.
Still he reflected, and that to such a degree that after he had undressed and lain down, he could not sleep for a long time. The cocks began to crow, the window panes were growing pale and green; but under his closed eyelids he saw yet the calm forehead of Panna Plavitski, the shadow over her mouth, and her hands pouring out the tea. Then, when sleep became overpowering, it seemed to him as though he were holding those hands in his own and drawing her toward him, and she was pulling back and turning her head aside, as if to escape a kiss. In the morning he woke late, and remembering Panna Plavitski, thought, Ah, she will look like that!
CHAPTER II
He was roused by the servant, who brought coffee and took his clothes to be brushed. When the servant brought them back, Pan Stanislav asked if it were not the custom of the house to meet in the dining-room for coffee.
No, answered the servant; because the young lady rises early, and the old gentleman sleeps late.
And has the young lady risen?
The young lady is at church.
True, to-day is Sunday. But does not the young lady go to church with the old gentleman?
No; the old gentleman goes to high Mass, and then goes to visit the canon, so the young lady prefers early Mass.
What do they do here on Sunday?
They sit at home; Pan Gantovski comes to dinner.
Pan Stanislav knew this Gantovski as a small boy. In those times they nicknamed him Little Bear, for he was a thick little fellow, awkward and surly. The servant explained that Pan Gantovskis father had died about five years before, and that the young man was managing his estate in the neighboring Yalbrykov.
And does he come here every Sunday?
Sometimes he comes on a week day in the evening.
A rival! thought Pan Stanislav. After a while he inquired,
Has the old gentleman risen?
It must be that he has rung the bell, for Yozef has gone to him.
Who is Yozef?
The valet.
And who art thou?
I am his assistant.
Go and inquire when it will be possible to see the old gentleman.
The servant went out and returned soon.
The old gentleman sends to say that when he dresses he will beg you to come.
Very well.
The servant went out; Pan Stanislav remained alone and waited, or rather was bored, a good while. Patience began to fail him at last; and he was about to stroll to the garden, when Yozef came with the announcement that the old gentleman begged him to come.
Yozef conducted him then to a chamber at the other end of the house. Pan Stanislav entered, and at the first moment did not recognize Pan Plavitski. He remembered him as a person in the bloom of life and very good-looking; now an old man stood before him, with a face as wrinkled as a baked apple, a face to which small blackened mustaches strove in vain to lend the appearance of youth. Hair as black as the mustaches, and parted low at the side of the head, indicated also pretensions as yet unextinguished.
But Plavitski opened his arms: Stas! how art thou, dear boy? Come hither! And, pointing to his white shirt, he embraced the head of Pan Stanislav, and pressed it to his bosom, which moved with quick breathing.
The embrace continued a long time, and for Pan Stanislav, much too long. Plavitski said at last,
Let me look at thee, Anna, drop for drop! My poor beloved Anna! and Plavitski sobbed; then he wiped with his heart finger1 his right eyelid, on which, however, there was not a tear, and repeated,
As like Anna as one drop is like another! Thy mother was always for me the best and the most loving relative.
Pan Stanislav stood before him confused, also somewhat stunned by a reception such as he had not expected, and by the odor of wax, powder, and various perfumes, which came from the face, mustaches, and shirt of the old man.
How is my dear uncle? asked he at last, judging that this title, which moreover he had given in years of childhood to Plavitski, would answer best to the solemn manner of his reception.
How am I? repeated Plavitski. Not long for me now, not long! But just for this reason I greet thee in my house with the greater affection, I greet thee as a father. And if the blessing of a man standing over the grave, and who at the same time is the eldest member of the family, has in thy eyes any value, I give it thee.
And seizing Pan Stanislavs head a second time, he kissed it and blessed him. The young man changed still more, and constraint was expressed on his face. His mother was a relative and friend of Plavitskis first wife: to Plavitski himself no affectionate feelings had ever attracted her, so far as he could remember; hence the solemnity of the reception, to which he was forced to yield, was immensely disagreeable to him. Pan Stanislav had not the least family feeling for Plavitski. This monkey, thought he, is blessing me instead of talking money; and he was seized by a certain indignation, which might help him to explain matters clearly.
Now sit down, dear boy, said Plavitski, and be as if in thy own house.
Pan Stanislav took a seat, and began, Dear uncle, for me it is very pleasant to visit uncle. I should have done so surely, even without business; but uncle knows that I have come also on that affair which my mother
Here the old man laid his hand on Pan Stanislavs knee suddenly. But hast thou drunk coffee? asked he.
I have, answered Pan Stanislav, driven from his track.
Marynia goes to church early. I beg pardon, too, that I have not given thee my room; but I am old, I am accustomed to sleep here. This is my nest. Then, with a circular sweep of the hand, he directed attention to the chamber.
Here the old man laid his hand on Pan Stanislavs knee suddenly. But hast thou drunk coffee? asked he.
I have, answered Pan Stanislav, driven from his track.
Marynia goes to church early. I beg pardon, too, that I have not given thee my room; but I am old, I am accustomed to sleep here. This is my nest. Then, with a circular sweep of the hand, he directed attention to the chamber.
Unconsciously Pan Stanislav let his eyes follow the motion of the hand. On a time this chamber had been to him a ceaseless temptation, for in it had hung the arms of Plavitski. The only change in it was the wall, which in the old time was rose-colored, and represented, on an endless number of squares, young shepherdesses, dressed à la Watteau, and catching fish with hooks. At the window stood a toilet-table with a white cover, and a mirror in a silver frame. On the table was a multitude of little pots, vials, boxes, brushes, combs, nail files, etc. At one side, in the corner, was a table with pipes and pipe-stems with amber mouth-pieces; on the wall, above the sofa, was the head of a wild boar, and under it two double-barrelled guns, a hunting-bag, horns, and, in general, the weapons of hunting; in the depth was a table with papers, open shelves with a certain number of books. Everywhere the place was full of old furniture more or less needed and ornamental, but indicating that the occupant of the chamber was the centre around which everything turned in that house, and that he cared greatly for himself. In one word, it was the chamber of an old single man, an egotist full of petty anxiety for his personal comfort, and full of pretensions. Pan Stanislav did not need long reflection to divine that Plavitski would not give up his chamber for anything, nor to any man.
But the hospitable host inquired further, Was it comfortable enough for thee? How didst thou spend the night?
Perfectly; I rose late.
But thou wilt stay a week or so with me?
Pan Stanislav, who was very impulsive, sprang up from his chair.
Doesnt uncle know that I have business in Warsaw, and a partner, who at present is doing all our work alone? I must go at the earliest; and to-day I should like to finish the business on which I have come.
To this Plavitski answered with a certain cordial dignity, No, my boy. To-day is Sunday; and besides, family feeling should go before business. To-day I greet thee, and receive thee as a blood relative; to-morrow, if thou wish, appear as a creditor. That is it. To-day my Stas has come to me, the son of my Anna. Thus will it be till to-morrow; thus should it be, Stas. This is said to thee by thy eldest relative, who loves thee, and for whom thou shouldst do this.
Pan Stanislav frowned a little, but after a while he answered, Let it be so till to-morrow.
Anna spoke through thee then. Dost smoke a pipe?
No, only cigarettes.
Believe me, thou doest ill. But I have cigarettes for guests.
Further conversation was interrupted by the rattle of an equipage at the entrance.
That is Marynia, who has come from early Mass, said Plavitski.
Pan Stanislav looked out through the window, and saw a young lady in a straw hat stepping out of the equipage.
Hast made the acquaintance of Marynia? asked Plavitski.
I had the pleasure yesterday.
She is a dear child. I need not tell thee that I live only for her
At that moment the door opened, and a youthful voice asked, May I come in?
Come in, come in; Stas is here! answered Plavitski.
Marynia entered the chamber quickly, with her hat hanging by ribbons over her shoulder; and when she had embraced her father, she gave her hand to Pan Stanislav. In her rose-colored muslin, she looked exceedingly graceful and pretty. There was about her something of the character of Sunday, and with it the freshness of that morning, which was bright and calm. Her hair had been ruffled a little by her hat; her cheeks were blooming; and youth was breathing from her person. To Pan Stanislav, she seemed more joyous and more shapely than the previous evening.
High Mass will be a little later to-day, said she to her father; for immediately after Mass the canon went to the mill to prepare Pani Siatkovski; she is very ill. Papa will have half an hour yet.
That is well, said Plavitski; during that time thou wilt become more nearly acquainted with Stas. I tell thee, drop for drop like Anna! But thou hast never seen her. Remember, too, Marynia, that he will be our creditor to-morrow, if he wishes; but to-day he is only our relative and guest.
Very well, answered the young lady; we shall have a pleasant Sunday.
You went to sleep so late yesterday, said Pan Stanislav, and to-day you were at early Mass.
She answered merrily, The cook and I go to early Mass that we may have time afterward to think of dinner.
I forgot to mention, said Pan Stanislav, that I bring you salutations from Pani Emilia Hvastovski.
I have not seen Emilia for a year and a half, but we write to each other often. She is about to visit Reichenhall, for the sake of her little daughter.
She was ready to start when I saw her.
But how is the little girl?
She is in her twelfth year; she has grown beyond measure, and is pale. It does not seem that she is very healthy.
Do you visit Emilia often?
Rather often. She is almost my only acquaintance in Warsaw. Besides, I like Pani Emilia very much.
Tell me, my boy, inquired Plavitski, taking a pair of fresh gloves from the table, and putting them into a breast-pocket, what is thy particular occupation in Warsaw?
I am what is called an affairist; I have a commission house in company with a certain Bigiel. I speculate in wheat and sugar, sometimes in timber; in anything that gives profit.
I have heard that thou art an engineer?
I have my specialty. But on my return I could not find occupation at any factory, and I began at mercantile transactions, all the more readily that I had some idea of them. But my specialty is dyeing.
How dost thou say? inquired Plavitski.
Dyeing.
The times are such now that one must take up anything, said Plavitski, with dignity. I am not the man to take that ill of thee. If thou wilt only retain the honorable old traditions of the family, no occupation brings shame to a man.
Pan Stanislav, to whom the appearance of the young lady had brought back his good nature, and who was amused by the sudden grandezza of the old man, showed his sound teeth in a smile, and answered,
Praise God for that!
Panna Plavitski smiled in like manner, and said, Emilia, who likes you very much, wrote to me once that you conduct your business perfectly.
The only difficulty in this country is with Jews; still competition is easy. And with Jews it is possible to get on by abstaining from anti-Semitic manifestoes. As to Pani Emilia, however, she knows as much about business as does her little Litka.
Yes; she has never been practical. Had it not been for her husbands brother, Pan Teofil Hvastovski, she would have lost all she has. But Pan Teofil loves Litka greatly.
Who doesnt love Litka? I, to begin with, am dying about her. She is such a marvellous child, and such a favorite; I tell you that I have a real weakness for her.
Panna Marynia looked attentively at his honest, vivacious face, and thought, He must be a little whimsical, but he has a good heart.
Plavitski remarked, meanwhile, that it was time for Mass, and he began to take farewell of Marynia in such fashion as if he were going on a journey of some months; then he made the sign of the cross on her head, and took his hat. The young lady pressed Pan Stanislavs hand with more life than at the morning greeting; he, when sitting in the little equipage, repeated in his mind, Oh, she is very nice, very sympathetic.