self to Kromitzki, and it
makes me angry considering what a vast difference there is between us.
We are like inhabitants of different planets, and as to our souls, if
one has to climb up to reach mine, such as Aniela would have to stoop
very low to reach his. But would this be such a difficult task for
her? It is a horrible question; but in regard to women I have seen so
monstrous things, especially in my country where the women generally
speaking are superior to the men, that I am obliged to consider it.
I have seen girls, angels in all but wings, full of noble impulses,
sensitive to everything beautiful and uncommon, not only marry
louts of narrow and mean characters, but adopt after marriage their
husbands' maxims of life, vanities, narrowness, and commonplace
opinions. What is more, some of them did this eagerly, as if former
ideals were only fit to be thrown aside with the bridal wreath. They
seemed to labor under the conviction that only thus they could prove
themselves true wives. It is true that sometimes a reaction follows,
but in a general sense Shakspeare's Titania is a common enough type,
to be met with every day.

I am a sceptic from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, but
my scepticism springs from pain, for it hurts me to think that such
may be Aniela's fate. Perhaps she too will shrug her shoulders at the
memory of her girlish aspirations, and consider contracts in Turkestan
better adapted to practical life. A dull wrath seizes me at the
thought, all the more as it will be partly my fault, that is, if it
should come to that.

On the other side these reflections and vacillations are not merely
the result of a want of decision, as Sniatynski seems to think. I have
such a high conception about marriage, such lofty demands, that they
take away my courage. It is true that often husband and wife fit each
other like two warped boards, and yet jog through life contentedly
enough; but this would not be enough for me. For the very reason that
I believe in happiness so little, I should like to attain it; but can
I attain it? It is not so much the unhappy marriages I have met with
that make me so wavering, but the few happy ones I have seen; at the
remembrance of these I ask myself, "Is it possible I could be so
happy?" And yet happiness is not met with in fiction only,--but how to
know where to look for it!

11 June.

In the last few days I have become quite intimate with Lukomski. He
is not so se