"A singular reproach from the mouth of his betrothed," remarked the Princess, with a sneer. "Most women would be happy and proud to know that their lover's thoughts were given to them at such a time."
"We are engaged in a life and death struggle, and I require deeds from a man, not vows of love," said Wanda, energetically.
The Princess's brow grew dark. "He will not be wanting in deeds when the occasion for them presents itself; but perhaps you think coldness and taciturnity are their inseparable adjuncts."
Wanda rose and walked to the window. She knew at what those words were aimed; but she could not, would not continually be made to render account of herself to those penetrating eyes which rested on her face with so inexorable a scrutiny, as though they would detect the innermost movements of her being. The Princess observed towards her niece the same line of conduct she had adopted towards Waldemar. She had spoken openly once, and that was enough. Repeated warnings were, in her opinion, useless as they were dangerous. Since the evening on which she had judged it necessary to open the young Countess's eyes, no word had passed between them on the subject then alluded to; but Wanda well knew that every word, every look of hers was weighed in the balance, and this consciousness often made her feel insecure and ill at ease in her intercourse with her aunt.
That lady had meanwhile folded and laid together the letters from her brother and her son.
"To all appearances, we may expect some fighting close to the frontier in the course of a few days," she began again. "What Wilicza might have been to us at such a time, and what it is!"
The young Countess turned round, and fixed her dark eyes on the speaker.
"Wilicza?" she repeated. "Aunt, I understand the necessity which keeps you there; but I should not be equal to the task! Any other sacrifice I could make; but it would be impossible to me to live day by day with any one on the terms existing between you and your son."
"No one else would find it so bearable as it is to us," said the Princess, with bitter irony. "I bear you testimony, Wanda, that you were right in your estimate of Waldemar. I expected the contest would have proved an easier one. Instead of tiring, him out, it is I who am almost ready to yield. He is more than a match for me."
"He is your son," said Wanda; "you always lose sight of that fact."