They dropped into silence, and drove along the sand slowly. The magpies flew before them from birch to birch, this time in the direction of Kremen. Behind Plavitskis little carriage rode in his brichka Pan Gantovski, who, thinking of Pan Stanislav, said to himself,
If he comes as a creditor to squeeze them, Ill break his neck; if he comes as a rival, Ill break it too.
From childhood, he had cherished hostile feelings toward Polanyetski. In those days they met once in a while. Polanyetski used to laugh at him; and, being a couple of years older, he even beat him.
Plavitski and his guest arrived at last, and, half an hour later, all found themselves at table in the dining-room, with Panna Marynia. The young dog, brought by Gantovski, taking advantage of his privilege of guest, moved about under the table, and sometimes got on the knees of those present with great confidence and with delight, expressed by wagging his tail.
That is a Gordon setter, said Gantovski. He is simple yet; but those dogs are clever, and become wonderfully attached.
He is beautiful, and I am very grateful to you, answered Marynia, looking at the shining black hair and the yellow spots over the eyes of the dog.
Too friendly, added Plavitski, covering his knees with a napkin.
In the field, too, they are better than common setters.
Do you hunt? asked Pan Stanislav of the young lady.
No; I have never had any desire to do so. And you?
Sometimes. But I live in the city.
Art thou much in society? inquired Plavitski.
Almost never. My visits are to Pani Emilia, my partner Bigiel, and Vaskovski, my former professor, an oddity now, those are all. Of course I go sometimes to people with whom I have business.
That is not well, my boy. A young man should have and preserve good social relations, especially when he has a right to them. If a man has to force his way, the question is different; but as Polanyetski, thou hast the right to go anywhere. I have the same story, too, with Marynia. The winter before last, when she had finished her eighteenth year, I took her to Warsaw. Thoult understand that the trip was not without cost, and that for me it required certain sacrifices. Well, and what came of it? She sat for whole days with Pani Emilia, and they read books. She is born a recluse, and will remain one. Thou and she might join hands.
Let us join hands! cried Pan Stanislav, joyously.
I cannot, with a clear conscience, answered Marynia; for it was not altogether as papa describes. I read books with Emilia, it is true; but I was much in society with papa, and I danced enough for a lifetime.
You have no fault to find?
No; but I am not yearning.
Then you did not bring away memories, it seems?
Evidently there remained with me only recollections, which are something different.
I do not understand the difference.
Memory is a magazine, in which the past lies stored away, and recollection appears when we go to the magazine to take something.
Here Panna Marynia was alarmed somewhat at that special daring with which she had allowed herself this philosophical deduction as to the difference between memory and recollection; therefore she blushed rather deeply.
Not stupid, and pretty, thought Pan Stanislav; aloud he said, That would not have come to my head, and it is so appropriate.
He surveyed her with eyes full of sympathy. She was in fact very pretty; for she was laughing, somewhat confused by the praise, and also delighted sincerely with it. She blushed still more when the daring young man said,
To-morrow, before parting, I shall beg for a place, even in the magazine.
But he said this with such joyousness that it was impossible to be angry with him; and Marynia answered, not without a certain coquetry,
Very well; and I ask reciprocity.
In such case, I should have to go so often to the magazine that I might prefer straightway to live in it.
This seemed to Marynia somewhat too bold on such short acquaintance; but Plavitski broke in now and said,
This Stanislav pleases me. I prefer him to Gantos, who sits like a misanthrope.
Because I can talk only of what may be taken in hand, answered the young man, with a certain sadness.
Then take your fork, and eat.
Pan Stanislav laughed. Marynia did not laugh: she was sorry for Gantovski; therefore she turned the conversation to things which were tangible.
She is either a coquette, or has a good heart, thought Pan Stanislav again.
But Pan Plavitski, who recalled evidently his last winter visit in Warsaw, continued, Tell me, Stas, dost thou know Bukatski?
Of course. By the way, he is a nearer relative to me than to uncle.
We are related to the whole world, to the whole world literally. Bukatski was Marynias most devoted dancer. He danced with her at all the parties.
Pan Stanislav began to laugh again; And for all his reward he went to the magazine, to the dust-bin. But at least it is not necessary to dust him, for he is as careful of his person as uncle, for instance. He is the greatest dandy in Warsaw. What does he do? He is manager of fresh air, which means that when there is fair weather he walks out or rides. Besides, he is an original, who has peculiar little closets in his brain. He observes various things of such kind as no other would notice. Once, after his return from Venice, I met him and asked what he had seen there. I saw, said he, while on the Riva dei Schiavoni, half an egg-shell and half a lemon-rind floating: they met, they struck, they were driven apart, they came together; at last, paf! the half lemon fell into the half egg-shell, and away they went sailing together. In this see the meaning of harmony. Such is Bukatskis occupation, though he knows much, and in art, for instance, he is an authority.
But they say that he is very capable.
Perhaps he is, but capable of nothing. He eats bread, and that is the end of his service. If at least he were joyous, but at bottom he is melancholy. I forgot to say that besides he is in love with Pani Emilia.
Does Emilia receive many people? inquired Marynia.
No. Vaskovski, Bukatski, and Mashko, an advocate, the man who buys and sells estates, are her only visitors.
Of course she cannot receive many people; she has to give much time to Litka.
Dear little girl, said Pan Stanislav, may God grant at least that Reichenhall may help her.
And his joyous countenance was covered in one moment with genuine sadness. Marynia looked at him with eyes full of sympathy, and in her turn thought a second time, Still he must be kind really.
But Plavitski began to talk as if to himself. Mashko, Mashko he too was circling about Marynia. But she did not like him. As to estates, the price now is such that God pity us.
Mashko is the man who declares that under such conditions it is well to buy them.
Dinner came to an end, and they passed into the drawing-room for coffee; while at coffee Pan Plavitski, as his wont was in moments of good-humor, began to make a butt of Gantovski. The young man endured patiently, out of regard for Marynia, but with a mien that seemed to say, Ei! but for her, I would shake all the bones out of thee. After coffee Marynia sat down at the piano, while her father was occupied with patience. She played not particularly well, but her clear and calm face was outlined pleasantly over the music-board. About five Pan Plavitski looked at the clock and said,
The Yamishes are not coming.
They will come yet, answered Marynia.
But from that moment on he looked continually at the clock, and announced every moment that the Yamishes would not come. At last, about six, he said with a sepulchral voice,
Some misfortune must have happened.
Pan Stanislav at that moment was near Marynia, who in an undertone said,
Here is a trouble! Nothing has happened, of course; but papa will be in bad humor till supper.
At first Pan Stanislav wished to answer that to make up he would be in good-humor to-morrow after sleeping; but, seeing genuine anxiety on the young ladys face, he answered,
As I remember, it is not very far; send some one to inquire what has happened.
Why not send some one over there, papa?
But he answered with vexation, Too much kindness; I will go myself; and ringing for a servant, he ordered the horses, then stopping for a moment he said,
Enfin, anything may happen in the country; some person might come and find my daughter alone. This is not a city. Besides, you are relatives. Thou, Gantovski, may be necessary for me, so have the kindness to come with me.
An expression of the greatest unwillingness and dissatisfaction was evident on the young mans face. He stretched his hand to his yellow hair and said,
Drawn up at the pond is a boat, which the gardener could not launch. I promised Panna Marynia to launch it; but last Sunday she would not let me, for rain was pouring, as if from a bucket.
Then run and try. It is thirty yards to the pond; thou wilt be back in two minutes.
Gantovski went to the garden in spite of himself. Plavitski, without noticing his daughter or Pan Stanislav, repeated as he walked through the room,
Neuralgia in the head; I would bet that it is neuralgia in the head; Gantovski in case of need could gallop for the doctor. That old mope, that councillor without a council, would not send for him surely. And needing evidently to pour out his ill humor on some one, he added, turning to Pan Stanislav, Thoult not believe what a booby that man is.
Who?
Yamish.
But, papa! interrupted Marynia.
Plavitski did not let her finish, however, and said with increasing ill humor, It does not please thee, I know, that she shows me a little friendship and attention. Read Pan Yamishs articles on agriculture, do him homage, raise statues to him; but let me have my sympathies.
Here Pan Stanislav might admire the real sweetness of Marynia, who, instead of being impatient, ran to her father, and putting her forehead under his blackened mustaches, said,
They will bring the horses right away, right away, right away! Maybe I ought to go; but let ugly father not be angry, for he will hurt himself.
Plavitski, who was really much attached to his daughter, kissed her on the forehead and said, I know thou hast a good heart. But what is Gantovski doing?
And he called through the open gate of the garden to the young man, who returned soon, wearied out, and said,
There is water in the boat, and it is drawn up too far; I have tried, and I cannot
Then take thy cap and lets be off, for I hear the horses have come.
A moment later the young people were alone.
Papa is accustomed to society a little more elegant than that in the country, said Marynia; therefore he likes Pani Yamish, but Pan Yamish is a very honorable and sensible man.
I saw him in the church; to me he seemed as if crushed.
Yes; for he is sickly, and besides has much care.
Like you.
No, Pan Yamish manages his work perfectly; besides, he writes much on agriculture. He is really the light of these parts. Such a worthy man! She too is a good woman, only to me she seems rather pretentious.
An ex-beauty.
Yes. And this unbroken country life, through which she has become rather rusty, increases her oddness. I think that in cities oddities of character and their ridiculous sides efface one another; but in the country, people turn into originals more easily, they grow disused to society gradually, a certain old-fashioned way is preserved in intercourse, and it goes to excess. We must all seem rusty to people from great cities, and somewhat ridiculous.
Not all, answered Pan Stanislav; you, for example.
It will come to me in time, answered Marynia, with a smile.
Time may bring changes too.
With us there is so little change, and that most frequently for the worse.
But in the lives of young ladies in general changes are expected.
I should wish first that papa and I might come to an agreement about Kremen.
Then your father and Kremen are the main, the only objects in life for you?
True. But I can help little, since I know little of anything.
Your father, Kremen, and nothing more, repeated Pan Stanislav.
A moment of silence came, after which Marynia asked Pan Stanislav if he would go to the garden. They went, and soon found themselves at the edge of the pond. Pan Stanislav, who, while abroad, had been a member of various sporting clubs, pushed to the waters edge the boat, which Gantovski could not manage; but it turned out that the boat was leaky, and that they could not row in it.
This is a case of my management, said Marynia, laughing; there is a leak everywhere. And I know not how to find an excuse, since the pond and the garden belong to me only. But before it is launched I will have the boat mended.
As I live, it is the same boat in which I was forbidden to sail when a boy.
Quite possibly. Have you not noticed that things change less by far, and last longer than people? At times it is sad to think of this.
Let us hope to last longer than this moss-covered boat, which is as water-soaked as a sponge. If this is the boat of my childhood, I have no luck with it. In old times I was not permitted to sail in it, and now I have hurt my hand with some rusty nail.
Saying this, he drew out his handkerchief and began to wind it around a finger of his right hand, with his left hand, but so awkwardly that Marynia said,
You cannot manage it; you need help; and she began to bind up his hand, which he twisted a little so as to increase the difficulty of her task, since it was pleasant for him to feel her delicate fingers touching his. She saw that he was hindering her, and glanced at him; but the moment their eyes met, she understood the reason, and, blushing, bent down as if tying more carefully. Pan Stanislav felt her near him, he felt the warmth coming from her, and his heart beat more quickly.
I have wonderfully pleasant memories, said he, of my former vacations here; but this time I shall take away still pleasanter ones. You are very kind, and besides exactly like some flower in this Kremen. On my word, I do not exaggerate.
Marynia understood that the young man said that sincerely, a little too daringly perhaps, but more through innate vivacity than because they were alone; she was not offended, therefore, but she began to make playful threats with her pleasant low voice,
I beg you not to say pretty things to me; if you do, I shall bind your hand badly, and then run away.
You may bind the hand badly, but stay. The evening is so beautiful.
Marynia finished her work with the handkerchief, and they walked farther. The evening was really beautiful. The sun was setting; the pond, not wrinkled with a breath of wind, shone like fire and gold. In the distance, beyond the water, the alders were dozing quietly; the nearer trees were outlined with wonderful distinctness in the ruddy air. In the yard beyond the house, storks were chattering.