Pan Stanislav, by becoming acquainted with Marynia, gave her at once the best part of his feelings. Why? for what purpose? Only to give himself suffering. Now, to complete the misfortune, that Litka, the one ray of his life, had died, or might die any moment. Pan Stanislav looked again at her, and said in his soul,—
“Remain even, thou dear child; thou knowst not how needful thou art to me and to thy mother. God guard thee; what a life there will be without thee!”
Suddenly he saw that the eyes of the child were looking at him. For a while he thought himself mistaken, and did not dare to stir; but the little maiden smiled, and finally she whispered,—
“Pan Stas.”
“It is I, Litus. How dost thou feel?”
“Well; but where is mamma?”
“She will come right away. We had a great struggle to make her go to bed to sleep, and we hardly persuaded her.”
Litka turned her head, and, seeing Marynia, said,—
“Ah! is that Aunt Marynia?”
For some time she had called her aunt.