10 April.

I went towards evening to say good-by to Mrs. Davis, and dropped in for a regular concert.  Laura seems really very fond of music.  Miss Hilst was playing on the harmonium.  I always like to see her, but especially when she sits down to the harmonium, and playing the prelude, keeps her eyes on the keys.  There is so much earnestness and intentness in her face, combined with calmness.  She reminds me of Saint Cecilia, the most sympathetic of all saints, with whom I should have fallen in love had she lived in our times.  A pity Clara is so tall; but one forgets it when she is playing.  From time to time she lifts her eyes, as if recalling to memory a note heard somewhere in the spheres, or seeking inspiration, and she herself looks like one inspired.  She rightly bears the name of Clara, for it would be difficult to find a more transparent soul.  I said I liked to see her; as to her music, it is still the same; I do not understand it, or rather I follow her meaning with the greatest difficulty.  Nevertheless, in spite of my satirical remarks, I think she has a remarkable talent.

When she had finished I approached her, and still half jestingly said the time had come and I was ready to escort her to Warsaw according to our agreement.  I was surprised to see her take my proposition so seriously.  She said that she had wanted to go there for some time, and was quite ready; it was all a question of informing an old relative who always went with her, and of taking a dumb piano, as she practised even on her journeys.

The prospect began to alarm me somewhat.  If she goes, I shall have to help her in getting up a concert; and I would rather go straight on to Ploszow.  As a last resource I could hand her over to Sniatynski, who would be more useful to her than I. Besides, Miss Hilst is the daughter of a rich mill-owner at Frankfurt, and it is not a question of material success with her.  The eagerness with which she agreed to the journey made me thoughtful.  I had half a mind to tell her that I did not object to the dumb piano so much as to the elderly relative.  Men are so prone to lie in wait for women that few approach a young and pretty one without an after-thought.  As to myself, though wholly absorbed by something else, the idea of the old relative travelling with us was unpleasant, the more so as my person evidently plays some part in this so quickly arranged journey.  Paris presents a far wider scope for her musical talent, and she does not care for gain; why should she be so anxious to go to Warsaw?  Laura, as I have said, has hinted more than once that Miss Hilst has more than a liking for me.  A strange woman, Laura!  Clara’s innocence excites her envy, but only as it might be excited by a beautiful jewel, or by rare lace,—­with her it is merely a question of adornment.  Maybe for that reason she would like to push that big child into my arms.  She does not care for me any longer; I am an ornament she has worn already.