nnoyed his wife, as she pulled his sleeve several times. Aniela sat
quite motionless; maybe she, too, was absorbed in her own thoughts,
and did not listen to the _Fruehlingslied_. I was almost certain she
was thinking about me and Clara, and especially about the meaning of
the words I had said to Clara. It was easy enough to guess that even
if she did not love me, or had the slightest consciousness that my
love was any other but brotherly affection, she would feel sore and
disappointed if that were about to be taken away from her. A woman who
is not happy in her married life clings round any other feeling, if
it be only friendship, as the ivy clings to the tree. I had no doubt
whatever that if at this moment I knelt down at her feet and told her
it was she, and she alone, that I loved, she would feel a sudden joy,
as one feels upon recovering something very precious. And if so, I
debated within me, why not hasten the solution, if only a way could be
found,--frightening her as little as possible, or making her forget
all terror in her joy. I began at once to devise ways and means, as
I understood it must be done in such a way as to make it forever
impossible for her to cast me off. My mind worked very hard at it, as
the problem was not an easy one. Gradually a great emotion stole over
me: and strange to say, it was more on Aniela's account than on my own
that I felt moved,--for I realized suddenly what a great wrench it
would be, and I was afraid for her.

In the mean time it had grown lighter in the drawing-room; the moon
had risen above the trees, and cast luminous shafts across the floor.
The melodies of the _Fruehlingslied_ still filled the air, and the
nightingales responded to it through the open French window. It was
a glorious evening, warm and balmy, and full of harmony and love. I
thought involuntarily that, if life does not give us happiness, it
presents us with a ready frame for it.

In the luminous dusk my eyes searched for Aniela; but she looked at
Clara, who at this moment seemed more a vision than a substantial
being. The moonlight, advancing more and more into the room, rested
now upon her; and in the light dress she looked like the silvery
spirit of music. But the vision did not last long. Clara finished her
song; whereupon Pani Sniatynska rose, and saying it was late, gave the
signal for departure. As the evening was so warm, I proposed we should
see our visitors off as far as the high-road, about hal