‘We must see you oftener. Gustav is so pleasant and so gay, he will be of great use to you. When he really takes a liking, he is delightful; and he has in your case, I assure you.’
I knew not what to say, nor how to look my gratitude for such a speech, and could only accomplish some few and broken words of thanks.
‘Besides, you are about to be a traveller,’ continued she; ‘and who can give you such valuable information of every country and people as the count? Do you intend to make a long absence from England?’
‘Yes, at least some years. I wish to visit the East.’ ‘You ‘ll go into Poland?’ said she quickly, without noticing my reply.
‘Yes, I trust so; Hungary and Poland have both great interest for me.’
‘You know that we are Poles, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘We are both from beyond Varsovie. Gustav was there ten years ago. I have never seen my native country since I was a child.
At the last words her voice dropped to a whisper, and she leaned her head upon her hand, and seemed lost in thought. I did not dare to break in upon the current of recollections I saw were crowding upon her, and was silent. She looked up at length, and by the faint light of the moon, just risen, I saw that her eyes were tearful and her cheeks still wet.
‘What,’ said I to myself, ‘and has sorrow come even here—here, where I imagined if ever the sunny path of life existed, it was to be found?’