r face. She had grown white to the lips, and I was afraid
she might faint. When I took her hand it felt as cold as ice. I had
expected anything but that. I thought she would let me know in some
way or other that she was Pani Kromitzka, but there was nothing of the
sort. She stood before me moved, frightened, my former little Aniela.
It was I who had made her unhappy,--I who was guilty, a hundred times
guilty; and at this moment she looked at me as if she herself asked
to be forgiven. The old love, contrition for the past, and pity
overwhelmed me to such a degree that I almost lost my head, and
thought I must take her into my arms, and soothe her with endearing
words, as one soothes a beloved being. I was so agitated by the
unexpected meeting, not with Pani Kromitzka, but Aniela, that I
could only press her hand in silence. And yet I felt obliged to say
something; therefore, pulling myself together, I said, as if in
somebody else's voice,--

"Did aunt not tell you I was coming?"

"Yes; she told me," said Aniela, with an evident effort.

And then we fell back into silence. I felt that I ought to ask after
her mother, and about herself, but could not force myself to do so.
I wished from my soul somebody would come and deliver us from this
position. Presently my aunt came in with the young Doctor Chwastowski,
the agent's son, who for a month past has had the care of Pani Celina.
Aniela slipped away to pour out the tea, and I began to talk with my
aunt. I had recovered my presence of mind entirely when we sat down to
breakfast. I began now to inquire after Pani Celina's health. My aunt,
telling me about her, appealed every moment to the doctor, who turned
to me with that peculiar shade of superciliousness with which a newly
patented scientist treats outsiders, and at the same time with the
watchfulness of a democrat who is afraid of slights where none are
intended. He appeared to me very conceited; and after all, I treated
him with far greater politeness than he exhibited towards me. This
amused me a little, and helped to keep my thoughts, which the sight
of Aniela confused, under control. From time to time I looked at her
across the table, and repeated to myself: "The same features, the same
little face, the same low brow shaded by a wealth of hair; it is the
same Aniela, almost a little girl, my love, my happiness; and now lost
to me forever." There was inexpressible sweetness in the sensation,
mingled with exquisite pa