the portrait? The head was finished when you left Vienna,
was it not? Angeli will not send it soon, because he said to me it
would be his masterpiece. He will want to exhibit it in Vienna,
Munich, and Paris. It is lucky I asked him to make a copy, otherwise
we might wait a year before we got it. I wanted a copy for myself."

She was obliged to fall in with my humor in spite of all the emotions
that worked in her breast, especially as my aunt and Pani Celina took
part in the conversation. In this way the first awkward moments were
tided over. Everything I said was intended to divert our attention
from the real state of feelings. I kept on in the same strain all the
evening, although at times I felt the perspiration breaking out on my
forehead from the effort. I was still weak after my recent illness,
and all this told upon me terribly.

During supper Aniela looked at my pale face and the gray hairs. I
saw she guessed what I must have suffered. I spoke about my Berlin
experiences almost gayly. I avoided looking at her changed appearance,
so as not to let her see that I had noticed it, and that the sight
moved me deeply. Towards the end of the evening I felt faint several
times, but I fought against it, and she did not see anything in my
face except calmness, serenity, and boundless affection. She is very
keen-sighted; she knows, perceives, understands things very quickly;
but I fairly surpassed myself,--I was so natural and so much at my
ease. Even if there be still any lingering doubt in her mind as to my
submission, she has none as to my affection and her being to me the
same worshipped Aniela.

I noticed that she seemed better and evidently began to revive in the
warmer atmosphere. I had indeed reason to be proud of myself, for
I brought at once an appearance of cheerfulness into a house where
dulness had reigned paramount. My aunt and Pani Celina appreciated it
keenly. The latter said frankly when I wished her good-night:--

"Thank Heaven, you have come. Everything looks different at once with
you in the house."

Aniela, pressing my hand, said shyly, "You will not go away soon, will
you?"

"No, Aniela," I replied; "I will not go away again." And I went, or
rather fled, to my room, because I felt that I could bear the strain
no longer. There had been such an accumulation of misery and tears in
my heart during that evening that I felt half choked. There are small
sacrifices that cost more than great ones.

8