an she would be at Ploszow. She will not go out often,
and never alone. The doctor orders exercise, but I have found means
for that. Beyond the stables there is a good-sized garden with a
wooden gallery near the wall. I will have it glazed, and in bad
weather Aniela can walk there. It is a terrible strain, this continual
anxiety hanging over our heads.

15 November.

How did it happen? How the slightest suspicion could have entered
her head I cannot understand. And yet it is there. To-day, during
breakfast, she suddenly raised her eyes, looked inquiringly at all of
us in turn and said:--

"I cannot quite make it out, but I am under the impression that you
are concealing something from me."

I felt myself growing pale,--Pani Celina behaved most fatally; only
the dear old aunt did not lose her presence of mind and at once began
to scold Aniela:--

"Of course we are hiding something, and did not like to tell you
that we consider that little head of yours a foolish one. Leon said
yesterday that you would never learn to play chess, as you had no idea
about combination."

I breathed more easily, and getting hold of the clue began to make fun
of her. Aniela seemed satisfied for the moment, but I am quite
certain that we have not dispersed her suspicion, and that even my
cheerfulness may have seemed artificial to her. My aunt and Pani
Celina were thoroughly frightened, and I was in despair; for I saw
how fruitless would be our endeavors so keep the thing from her
altogether. I fancy that Aniela suspects we are keeping from her some
bad news about her husband's financial affairs; but what will she
think if week after week passes and she does not get any letters from
him? What can we tell her; how explain the silence?

Towards noon the doctor came. We told him what had happened, and he
repeated what he had said before, that it would be better to let her
know the truth.

"Naturally Pani Kromitzka will be getting anxious at not receiving any
letters, and thence will draw the worst conclusions."

I still tried to avoid extreme measures and said that this anxiety
would prepare her mind for the news.

"Yes," replied the doctor, "but anxiety prepares the organism badly
for an ordeal which even under more favorable circumstances would not
be an easy thing to bear."

Perhaps he is right, but my heart quakes with terror. Everything has
its limits, and so has human courage There is something within me that
protests desper