is not mistaken either. My aunt, who never quite
believed in Kromitzki's millions, gave me to understand several times
that she meant to do something for Aniela; she said it with a certain
hesitation, almost humbly, as she considers everything ought to go to
a Ploszowski, and that to leave anything to another would be a wrong
to the family. How little she knows me! If Aniela were in want of a
pair of shoes and I had to sell Ploszow and give all I possess, she
should have them. I might be prompted by a less noble motive,--for
instance, to appear different from a Kromitzki,--but from whatever
motive, I should give it certainly. But there is no question of that
now. I am thinking continually that she is living at Ploszow, and will
remain there as long as Kromitzki's journeys last, which may be God
only knows for how long. I shall see Pani Kromitzka every day. At the
thought of this I feel a certain uneasiness, with a strong admixture
of curiosity as to our future relations towards each other; and I
clearly see what might happen if my disposition and feelings in regard
to her were different. I never lie to myself; I repeat again that I
am going there in order to cure myself, that I do not love Pani
Kromitzka, and never will love her; that on the contrary, I am in
hope that the sight of her will drive Aniela out of my heart far more
successfully than all the fiords and geysers; but I would not be
myself, the man who has lived much and thought much, if I did not see
the danger which under other circumstances such a position might bring
forth.

If I wanted to revenge myself, if the very name Pani Kromitzka did not
excite my loathing, what could stand in my way or hinder me,--in
quiet Ploszow, where would be we two only, and the elder ladies, as
unsuspicious and unsophisticated in their stainless virtue as any
babies? In regard to this I know my aunt and Pani Celina. In the
higher spheres of society one meets sometimes women thoroughly
corrupted; but there are many, especially among the older generation,
who pass through life like angels, with no thought of evil ever coming
near them. Neither my aunt nor Pani Celina would ever dream of any
danger threatening Aniela now she is married. Aniela herself belongs
to that kind. She would not have rejected my prayers had she not given
her word to Kromitzki. But Polish women of this kind would rather
break a heart than break their word. At the very thought of it a dull
wrath seizes me