if must be worth something, since people risk their lives for it?"
Sniatynski grew thoughtful, and replied with a certain gravity: —
"In private life it is worth something; you can make a footstool of it for the woman you love."
"You will gain a new fame by this definition."
Sniatynski rushed at me with lively impetuosity.
"Yes, yes; put all your laurels into a cushion, go to the dear one, and say to her: 'This for which people risk their lives; this which they consider supreme happiness, appreciate more than wealth, – I have got it, striven for it; and now put your dear feet on it at once.' If you do this, you will be loved all your life. You wanted to know what fame is good for, and there you are."
Further discussions were cut short by the entrance of Pani Sniatynska and Aniela. They were dressed for going out to the hot-houses. What an imp of mischief lurks in that little woman. She came up to her husband to ask his permission to go out, which he granted, insisting only that she should wrap herself up warm; she turned to me and said with a roguish smile, —
"You will let Aniela go, will you not?"
That Aniela should blush furiously was only natural, but that I, an old stager, a razor sharpened against the strops of so many experiences, should have betrayed so much confusion, I cannot forgive myself. But, putting on a semblance of self-possession, I went up to Aniela, and raising her hand to my lips, said: —
"It is Aniela who gives orders at Ploszow, and I am her humble subject."
I should have liked to take Sniatynski with me and join the excursion, but refrained. I felt a want to speak about Aniela, my future marriage, and I knew that sooner or later Sniatynski himself would broach the question. I gave him an opening after the ladies had left us by saying: —
"And do you still believe as firmly as ever in your life-dogmas?"
"More than ever, or rather, the same as ever. There is no expression more worn to tatters than the word 'love;' one scarcely likes to use it; but between ourselves, I tell you; love in the general meaning, love in the individual sense does not permit of criticism. It is one of the canons of life. My philosophy consists in not philosophizing about it at all, – and the deuce take me if for the matter of that, I consider myself more foolish than other people. With love, life is worth something; without, it is not worth a bag of chaff."
"Let us see what you have to say about individual love, – or better still, put in its place woman."
"Very well, let it be woman."
"My good friend, do you not perceive on what brittle foundation you are building human happiness?"
"On about as brittle a foundation as life, – no more nor less!"
I did not want to drift into a discussion of life and death, and pulled Sniatynski up.
"For mercy's sake, do not generalize about individual happiness. You chanced to find the right woman, another might not."
He would not even listen to that. According to his view, ninety out of a hundred were successful. Women were better, purer, and nobler than men.
"We are rascals all, in comparison with them!" he shouted, waving his arms and snaking his leonine mane. "Nothing but rascals! It is I who say it, – I, who study mankind closely, if only for the reason that I am a playwright."
He was sitting astride on his chair, attacking me, as it were, with the chairback, and went on with his usual impetuosity: —
"There are, as Dumas says, apes from the land of Nod, who know neither curb nor bridle; but what are eyes given for but to see that you do not take to wife an ape from Nod? Generally speaking a woman does not betray her husband nor deceive him, unless he himself corrupts her heart, tramples on her feelings, or repulses and estranges her by his meanness, his selfishness, narrowness, and his miserable, worthless nature. You must love her! Let her feel that she is not only your female, but the crown of your head, as precious as your child and friend; wear her close to your heart, let her feel the warmth of it, and you may rest in peace; year after year she will cling closer to you, until you two are like Siamese twins. If you do not give her all that, you pervert her, estrange her by your worthlessness, – and she will leave you. She will leave you as soon as she sees nobler hands stretched out for her; she is forced to do it, as this warmth, this appreciation, are as necessary to her life as the air she breathes."
He charged me with the chairback as with a battering ram. I retreated before him until we had come close to the window; there he jumped up.
"How blind you are! In presence of such social drought, such utter absence of general happiness as stamps our time, not to grasp this felicity that is within reach! Shiver on the forum, and not light a fire at home! Idiotism can go no farther! I tell you plainly, go and get married."
He pointed through the window at Aniela, who with his wife was coming back from the hot-houses, and added: "There is your happiness. There it patters in fur boots on the frozen snow. Take her by weight of gold, by weight in carats rather! You simply have no home, not only in a physical sense, but in a moral, intellectual meaning; you have no basis, no point of rest, and she will give you all that. But do not philosophize her away as you have philosophized away your abilities and your thirty-five years of life!"
He could not have told me anything better, nobler, or what chimed in more with my own desires. I pressed his hands and replied: —
"No, I will not philosophize her away, because I love her."
Upon this the ladies entered, and Pani Sniatynska observed: —
"We heard some disputes when we were leaving, but I see peace is restored. May I ask what you have been discussing?"
"Woman, madame," I said.
"And what was the result?"
"As you see, a treaty of peace sealed by a grasp of the hand, and something further may come of it in the course of time."
The sledge was already waiting at the door. The short day was drawing to its close, and they had to go back; but as the weather was calm, and the snow on the drive as smooth as a parquetted floor, we resolved, Aniela and I, to accompany them as far as the high-road.
And so we did. After having said good-by to our charming visitors, we went slowly homeward. It was already dusk; in the dim light I could still see Aniela's face. She seemed moved, perhaps had opened her heart to Pani Sniatynska, and even now hoped for the long deferred word. It was almost burning on my tongue; but, oh, wonder! I who never yet had lost all my self-possession, I who was used to play upon heartstrings, who at a fencing match of that kind, if not cleverly, at least with perfect composure guarded myself against the most masterly strokes, I was as deeply moved as a lad in his teens. What a difference from former sentiments. I was afraid I could not find words to express myself, – and remained silent.
Thus in silence we approached the veranda. The snow was slippery; I offered her my arm, and when she leaned on it I felt how all my desires were centred in her. The feeling grew so intense that it thrilled my nerves like electric sparks. We entered the hall. There was nobody there; not even the lamps were lit, the only light came in fitful gleams from the open stoves. In this half-light and in silence I began to relieve Aniela of her furs, when suddenly the warmth emanating from her body seemed to enter into my veins; I put my arm around her, and drawing her close to me I pressed my lips on her brow.
It
