into her being, so worked into the system, that I could sooner fancy
Aniela cold and lifeless than baring her bosom in my presence.

And I can still delude myself with the idea that I may expect anything
from her! It is simple idiocy!

What am I to do then? Go away?

No; I shall not go away. I will not, and cannot.

I will remain, and since my love is idiotic, I will do as idiots do.
Enough of systems, calculations, forethought! Let things take their
own way. My former ways did not lead to anything.

9 June.

She is not a bit happier than I am. What I saw to-day confirmed my
suspicion that she is fighting a heavy battle, with nothing to help
her except the truth of her own faith and convictions.

After the departure of Pan Zawilowski and his daughter, who had paid
us a visit, my aunt, evidently with a certain purpose, began to
enlarge upon the good qualities of Panna Zawilowska. I burst out into
a sudden rage; I was tired, my nerves over-wrought by sleeplessness
and irritated beyond measure. I exclaimed: "Have your way then! If it
be a question of marriage only, and not of happiness, I will propose
to-morrow to Panna Zawilowska. She or somebody else; what does it
matter?"

Anybody might have seen it was merely irritation, not conviction, that
dictated words I should never have acted upon. But Aniela had grown
very white. She rose and without apparent reason began to unfasten the
cords of the blind with trembling hands. Fortunately my aunt was so
taken aback by the suddenness of my outburst that she did not notice
her. She said something, I did not hear what, as all my attention was
concentrated upon Aniela. It is true that by reasoning I had come to
the conclusion that something must be going on in her heart, but to
reason out a thing and to see it, are two different things. As long as
I live I shall never forget that white face and those trembling hands.
I had now a tangible proof, which, however I might explain it by the
suddenness of my announcement, is still proof enough. Sudden news
either of the death or marriage of anybody that is indifferent to us
does not pale our cheeks.

I thought a few days ago: "Of what use is it to me that she loves me,
if that love is to remain forever hidden in her breast?" and yet when
I came to read, as I did now, the confirmation of it, my hope rose
at once and all doubts vanished. Again a vision of possible victory
flashed before my eyes,--alas! to be dissolved almost