16 April.

I arrived at Warsaw three days ago, but have not been able to go to Ploszow as, shortly after my arrival, I got a cold in my teeth and my face is swollen.  I do not wish to show myself to the ladies in that state.

I have seen Sniatynski, and my aunt, who has welcomed me as the prodigal son.  Aniela arrived at Ploszow a week ago.  Her mother is very ill, so ill that the doctors who advised her to try Wiesbaden now declare she could not bear the journey.  She will therefore remain at Ploszow until she recovers—­or dies, and Aniela with her, until Kromitzki winds up his business or thinks it proper to give her a home.  From what my aunt says this may take him some months.  I tried to get from my aunt as much news about Aniela as I could, which is easy enough, as she speaks about her with perfect freedom.  She simply cannot understand how a married woman could excite any feeling except in the way of relationship; or rather, she has never even considered the question.  She spoke openly about the sale of Aniela’s home, which she considers a great shame.  She got so excited over it as to break her watch-chain and let the watch roll on the floor.

“I will tell him so to his face,” she said.  “I would rather have lent him the money had I known anything about it.  Only what would have been the use?  His speculations are a gulf.  I do not know whether any good will come out of it, but in the meanwhile everything is swallowed up in it.  Let him only come, and I will tell him that he makes Aniela unhappy, kills her mother, and will end in ruining them and himself.”  I asked my aunt whether she had said anything about this to Aniela.

“To Aniela?” she replied.  “I am glad you have come; it relieves my mind and makes it easier to bear.  I cannot speak about it with Aniela.  I tried it once when I could not contain myself any longer.  I made some remark and she grew very angry, then burst out crying and said, ‘He was obliged, he was obliged, and could not help it.’  She does not allow anybody to say a word against him, and would like to cover all his short-comings before the world; but she cannot deceive an old woman like me, and I know that at the bottom of her heart she must condemn him as I do.”

“Do you mean she does not love him?”

My aunt looked at me in unfeigned surprise.

“Not love him?  Of course she loves him.  Whom should she love if not him?  That’s just where the sting lies; she grieves because she loves him.  But one may love and yet have one’s eyes open to what is wrong.”

I had my own opinion on that point, but preferred not to express it, and allowed my aunt to proceed.

“What I resent most in him are his lies.  He assured Celina and Aniela that in a year or two he would be able to buy the estate back.  Just tell me, is this possible? and those women believe he is in earnest!”

“According to my opinion it is quite impossible.  Besides, he will go on speculating.”