disposition. She knows I admire her, that never woman was admired
more, and it pleases her. I not only admired her, but I said inwardly,
rather shouted to myself: "To the deuce with all compacts. I love you
without limits and restrictions."

In the evening we went to the opera to hear Wagner's "Fliegende
Hollander." I scarcely heard anything at all, or rather, heard and saw
only through her. I asked of Wagner: "What impression do you make upon
her? Does your music enter her soul and make her inclined to love me?
Do you transport her into higher spheres, where love is the highest
law?" That is the only thing that interests me. Women perhaps cannot
love so exclusively. They always reserve part of their soul for
themselves, for the world and its sensations.

27 August.

My aunt expressed a wish to depart. She is anxious to be back at
Ploszow, and says that her presence here is not necessary, and that
in fact we should get on better without her; that we should not be
obliged to consider her and could devote all our time to the portrait.
We all protested a little, and maintained that a lady of her years
ought not to travel alone. Though reluctantly, I considered it my duty
to offer my companionship. I confess that I awaited her reply with
a certain trepidation; but the dear old lady said, with great
liveliness:--

"Don't think of it even. Suppose Celina should fall ill again, who
would look after them, or accompany Aniela to the studio? She must not
go alone." She shook her finger playfully at Aniela, and with a frown
on her brow, and smiling mouth she added: "I don't quite trust that
painter, he looks at her more than his work requires; and she sees it
too and is pleased with it,--I know her little ways."

"But aunty, he is not a young man," said Aniela, laughingly kissing
her hands.

My aunt muttered: "Little coaxing rogue, he is not a young man, you
say? but he pays you compliments all the same. Leon, you must keep
your eye on them."

I relinquished the journey to Ploszow with delight, yielding to my
aunt's convincing reasons. Pani Celina insisted upon her taking the
maid, at least, who had gone with them to Gastein. My aunt refused at
first, but consented when Aniela pointed out that they would do very
well without a maid in the hotel. She gave orders at once to have her
things packed. She is very quick in her decisions and wants to go
to-morrow by an early train. I teased her during dinner, saying that
she