My aunt was delighted with my tactics and perspicacity; and walking up and down the room according to her habit she muttered to herself, “He is a genius in everything.”  She finally decided to leave everything in my hands, and to act as I thought best.  Upon this, she went below, and I, after perusing yesterday’s papers for half an hour, followed her.

I found the whole company gathered round the breakfast table, and one glance was sufficient to tell me that something unusual had taken place.  Aniela looked frightened, Pani Celina troubled, and my aunt was flushed with anger.  Only Kromitzki was quietly reading the paper, but he looked cross, and his face was as yellow as if he had been ill.

“Do you know,” said my aunt, pointing at Aniela, “what news she has brought me as a morning’s greeting?”

“No, what is it?” I said, sitting down at the table.

“Nothing more nor less than that in two weeks, Celina’s health permitting, they are both going to Odessa or somewhere farther still.”

If a thunderbolt had fallen in the middle of the table, I could not have been more startled.  My heart sank within me.  I looked at Aniela, who had grown very red, as if caught in the act of committing a wrong deed, and at last asked, “Where are they going? why?”

“They give me a deal of trouble at Ploszow, you know,” said my aunt, imitating Aniela’s voice.  “They do not want to be a burden to me, the charitable souls.  They evidently think I yearn after solitude; and in case you went away too, it would be ever so much better, more cheerful for me, to be by myself in that big house.  They have discussed this all the night, instead of sleeping like other respectable people.”

My aunt waxed angrier still, and turning upon Kromitzki asked:  “Did you preside at that debate?”

“Not at all,” he replied; “I was never even consulted.  But if my wife has resolved to go, I suppose it is in order to be nearer me, for which I ought to feel grateful.”

“There is nothing settled yet,” remarked Aniela.

I, forgetting all precautions, looked steadily at her, but she did not lift her eyes; which convinced me all the more that I was the cause of this sudden resolve.  I cannot find words to express what I felt at that moment, and what deadly bitterness suffused my heart.  Aniela knows perfectly that I live for her only, exist through her; that all my thoughts belong to her, my actions have only her in view; that she is to me an issue of life and death; and in spite of all that she calmly decides to go away.  Whether I should perish or beat my head against the wall, she never so much as considered.  She will be more at ease when she ceases to see me writhing like a beetle stuck on a pin; she will be no longer afraid of my kissing her feet furtively, or startling that virtuous conscience.  How can she hesitate when such excellent peace can be got, at so small a price as cutting somebody’s throat!  Thoughts