while a man is fancying something; but when he sees that there were open arms before him, what a difference! That letter conquered me; I cannot help myself.”
“I prefer not to read you all this letter,” said Pani Emilia, after a while. “Naturally she writes that the brief dream ended by an awakening more sudden than she had looked for. She writes that Pan Mashko is very considerate in money questions, though he wishes them to turn to his profit.”
“She will marry him, as God is in heaven!”
“You do not know her. But of Kremen she writes: ‘Papa has a wish to dispose of his property, and settle in Warsaw. Thou knowest how I love Kremen, how I grew up with it; but in view of what has happened, I doubt whether my work can be of service. I shall make one more struggle to defend the dear bit of land. Still papa says that his conscience will not let him imprison me in the country, and this is all the more bitter, since it is as if I were the question. Indeed, life seems at times to be touching on irony. Pan Mashko offers papa three thousand life annuity, and the whole amount for the parcelling of Magyerovka. I do not wonder that he seeks his own profit, but through such a bargain he would get the property for almost nothing. Papa himself said to him, “In this way, if I live one year I shall get from Kremen three thousand, for Magyerovka is mine anyhow.” Pan Mashko answered that in the present state of affairs the creditors would take the money for Magyerovka; but if papa agrees to the conditions proposed he will receive ready money and may live thirty years, perhaps longer. Which is true also. I know that this project pleases papa in principle; the only question with him is to get as much as he can. In all this there is one consolation,—that if we live in Warsaw, I shall see thee, dear Emilia, and Litka oftener. Sincerely and from my whole soul do I love you both, and know that on your hearts at least I can count always.’”
“So then I deprived her of Kremen, but sent her a suitor,” said Pan Stanislav, after a moment of silence.
While saying this, he did not know that Marynia had put almost the same words into the letter. Pani Emilia had omitted them purposely, not wishing to wound him.
During the last visit of the Plavitskis in Warsaw, Mashko had made some advances for the hand of Marynia; she had no need, therefore, of great keenness to divine his reason for buying the claim and coming to Kremen. Just in this was the bitterness that filled her heart, and the deep offence which she felt that Polanyetski had inflicted on her.
“It is absolutely needful to explain all this,” said Pani Emilia.
“I have sent her a suitor!” repeated Pan Stanislav. “I cannot even make the excuse that I did not know of Mashko’s designs.”
Pani Emilia turned Marynia’s letter in her delicate fingers some time, and then said suddenly,—
“It cannot rest this way. I wanted to unite you with her because of my friendship for both of you, but now there is a motive the more; to wit, your suffering. It would be a reproach for me to leave you as you are, and I cannot. Do not lose hope. There is a pretty French proverb, and a very ugly Polish one, about woman’s strength and will. In truth, I wish greatly to help you.”
Pan Stanislav seized her hand and raised it to his lips.
“You are the best and most honorable person that I have met in the world.”
“I have been very happy,” answered Pani Emilia; “and since I think that there is only one road to happiness, I wish those who are near me to go by it.”
“You are right. That road, or none! Since I have life, I wish that life to be of use to some one else and to me.”
“As to me,” said Pani Emilia, laughing, “since I have undertaken the rôle of matchmaker for the first time in life, I wish to be of service. But it is necessary to think what must be done now.”
Saying this, she raised her eyes. The light of the lamp fell directly on her delicate face, which was still very youthful; on her light hair, which was somewhat disarranged above her forehead. There was something in her so bewitching and at the same time so virginal that Pan Stanislav, though he had a head occupied with other things, recalled the name, “maiden widow,” which Bukatski had given her.
“Marynia is very candid,” said she, after a moment’s thought, “and will understand better if I write the pure truth to her. I will tell her what you told me: that you went away much pleased with her; that what you have done was done without reckoning with yourself, purely under the influence of the thought that you could not come to an agreement with her father; but at present you regret this most sincerely, you beg her not to take it ill, and not to take away the hope that she will yield to entreaty.”
“And I will write to Mashko that I will purchase the debt of him at whatever profit he likes.”
“See,” said Pani Emilia, smiling, “that sober, calculating Pan Stanislav, who boasts that he has freed himself from the Polish character and from Polish fickleness.”
“Yes, yes!” cried Pan Stanislav, with a more joyous tone. “Calculation consists in this, to spare nothing on an object that is worth it.” At that moment, however, he grew gloomy and said, “But if she answers that she is Mashko’s betrothed?”
“I will not admit that. Pan Mashko may be the most honorable of men, but he is not for her. She will not marry without affection. I know that Mashko did not please her at all. That will never take place; you do not know Marynia. Only do, on your part, what you can, and be at rest as to Mashko.”
“Then, instead of writing, I will telegraph to him to-day. He cannot stop in Kremen long at one time, and must receive my despatch in Warsaw.”
CHAPTER VIII.
Mashko’s answer, which Pan Stanislav received two days later, was, “I bought Kremen yesterday.”
Though it might have been foreseen from Marynia’s letter that affairs would take this and no other turn, and the young man was bound to be prepared for it, the news produced the impression of a thunder-clap. It seemed to him that a misfortune had happened, as sudden as it was incurable,—a misfortune for which the whole responsibility fell on him. Pani Emilia, knowing better than any one else Marynia’s attachment to Kremen, had also a presentiment which she could not conceal, that by this sale the difficulty of bringing these two young people nearer each other would be increased greatly.
“If Mashko does not marry Marynia,” said Pan Stanislav, “he will strip old Plavitski in such fashion as to save himself and leave the old man without a copper. If I had sold my claim to the first usurer I met, Plavitski would have wriggled out, paid something, promised more; and the ruin of Kremen would have been deferred for whole years, in the course of which something favorable might have happened; in every case there would have been time to sell Kremen on satisfactory conditions. Now, if they are left without a copper, the fault will be mine.”
But Pani Emilia looked on the affair from another side: “The evil is not in this alone,” said she, “that Kremen is sold. You have caused this sale, and that immediately after seeing Marynia. If some one else had done so, the affair would not have such a significance; but the worst is just this, that Marynia was greatly confident that you would not act thus.”
Pan Stanislav felt this as vividly as she; and since he was accustomed to give himself a
