Pan Stanislav hesitated awhile whether to raise it to his lips; but he did not raise it, he only said,—
“Now there is agreement.”
“And friendship?” asked Marynia.
“And friendship.”
In her eyes a deep, quiet joy was reflected, which enlivened her whole face with a mild radiance. There was in her at the moment so much kindness and trustfulness that she reminded Pan Stanislav of that first Marynia whom he had seen at Kremen when she was sitting on the garden veranda in the rays of the setting sun. But since Litka’s death he had been in such a frame of mind that he considered remembrances like that as unworthy of him; hence he rose and began to take leave.
“Will you not remain the whole evening?” asked Marynia.
“I will tell Emilia that you are going,” said she, approaching the door of the adjoining room.
“She is either thinking of Litka at present, or is praying; otherwise she would have come of herself. Better not interrupt her; I will come to-morrow in any case.”
Marynia approached him, and, looking into his eyes, said with great cordiality, “To-morrow and every day. Is it not true? Remember that you are ‘Pan Stas’ for us now.”