Pani Celina troubled, and my aunt was
flushed with anger. Only Kromitzki was quietly reading the paper, but
he looked cross, and his face was as yellow as if he had been ill.

"Do you know," said my aunt, pointing at Aniela, "what news she has
brought me as a morning's greeting?"

"No, what is it?" I said, sitting down at the table.

"Nothing more nor less than that in two weeks, Celina's health
permitting, they are both going to Odessa or somewhere farther still."

If a thunderbolt had fallen in the middle of the table, I could not
have been more startled. My heart sank within me. I looked at Aniela,
who had grown very red, as if caught in the act of committing a wrong
deed, and at last asked, "Where are they going? why?"

"They give me a deal of trouble at Ploszow, you know," said my aunt,
imitating Aniela's voice. "They do not want to be a burden to me, the
charitable souls. They evidently think I yearn after solitude; and in
case you went away too, it would be ever so much better, more cheerful
for me, to be by myself in that big house. They have discussed this
all the night, instead of sleeping like other respectable people."

My aunt waxed angrier still, and turning upon Kromitzki asked: "Did
you preside at that debate?"

"Not at all," he replied; "I was never even consulted. But if my wife
has resolved to go, I suppose it is in order to be nearer me, for
which I ought to feel grateful."

"There is nothing settled yet," remarked Aniela.

I, forgetting all precautions, looked steadily at her, but she did not
lift her eyes; which convinced me all the more that I was the cause
of this sudden resolve. I cannot find words to express what I felt
at that moment, and what deadly bitterness suffused my heart. Aniela
knows perfectly that I live for her only, exist through her; that all
my thoughts belong to her, my actions have only her in view; that she
is to me an issue of life and death; and in spite of all that she
calmly decides to go away. Whether I should perish or beat my head
against the wall, she never so much as considered. She will be more at
ease when she ceases to see me writhing like a beetle stuck on a pin;
she will be no longer afraid of my kissing her feet furtively, or
startling that virtuous conscience. How can she hesitate when such
excellent peace can be got, at so small a price as cutting somebody's
throat! Thoughts like these spun across my brain by thousands. I felt
a bitter taste in my mo