The gentleness with which she said it disarmed him. How dared he strike her? How dared he, who was intoxicated, strike this woman? All at once he lost his courage and his anger disappeared.
"Oh, why do you disturb me?" she wailed, in a low voice, and closed her eyes. "Please leave me, oh, do leave me. I was so happy."
Her voice touched him. Yes, he could well believe it, it does one good to be happy.
She had slowly retreated; now she was again standing in the light. He saw that she was escaping from him, and still he could not hold her.
At that moment Mikolai approached. "Where are you, mother?" The others now also appeared; the schoolmaster saw her surrounded by figures in light garments as through a mist. Rosa had taken the garlands off the oxen and now asked, "What are we to do with them?"
"Come, let's adorn the saints with them," answered the woman. "It's the first harvest of summer; may they be gracious to us." Then turning to the schoolmaster she said, "Come more frequently, Mr. Böhnke. I should be pleased if you would often come to see Mr. Tiralla."
All the man could do was to bend over her hand and whisper in a hoarse voice:
"Certainly, if you wish it, Mrs. Tiralla."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
They had adorned all the saints in the house, as well as the image of the Holy Virgin in the niche over the gateway, with the clover and cornflowers. The wagon with its huge load of clover was standing in the shed; to-morrow early it was to be put into sacks, this evening they were to have a rest. It was quite like Sunday at Starydwór; even the Sundays were not so beautiful formerly as the workdays were now. Marianna was singing in the kitchen whilst making pancakes, and Mikolai was strolling about the yard smoking, with his arm round Rosa's shoulder. She was blushing and smiling at something he was saying to her.