ng in life.

22 August.

After the completion of Pani Celina's cure we waited for weeks till
the heat in the plains should have grown less intense, and at last the
weather broke and again delayed our journey. There has been an almost
Egyptian darkness for three days. The clouds which have been gathering
on the summits, breeding snow and rain, have descended from the
heights and enveloped Gastein as in a wet blanket. There is such a
mist that in the middle of the day I have to pick my way carefully
from Straubinger's to our villa. Everything is wrapped in a thick
veil,--the houses, the trees, the mountains, and cascades. The shapes
of things dissolve and disappear in the moist clouds that weigh upon
everything, and also upon the human mind. We light the lamps at two
o'clock in the afternoon. The ladies have finished packing, and we
should have gone in spite of the mist, but the road is torn up by the
mountain torrents beyond Hofgastein. Pani Celina again suffers from
headaches, and my aunt, after receiving a letter from Chwastowski
about the harvest, walks with heavy steps about the room, talking to
herself and scolding Chwastowski. Aniela looked pale and out of sorts
in the morning. She had a bad night and dreamed about the cretin she
had seen near the Schreckbruecke. She woke up, and could not go to
sleep again; she spent the rest of the night in nervous terror. It is
very strange what an impression the wretched cripple has made upon
her. I tried by cheerful conversation to make her forget about the
incident, in which I succeeded. Since our compact on the Schreckbruecke
she is without comparison brighter, more cheerful, and happier.

As regards myself, seeing Aniela thus contented, I cannot find it in
my heart to complain, though it often occurs to me that our relation
is mainly based upon there being no relation at all. When I entered
into the compact I knew what I was doing and what shape our feeling
would take; but now that shape seems to be getting more intangible and
undefined, and wrapped up in a mist like that which enfolds Gastein. I
have a presentiment that Aniela will not grant me what is due to
me, and I dare not remind her about anything. I dare not, because a
struggle is too exhausting, especially a struggle for the woman we
love. I have been engaged in this struggle half a year and not gained
anything; and I feel so weary that I prefer the truce, such as it is,
to a renewal of my former warfare. Ther