“How will she be nearer?”
“She wants to become a Sister of Charity.”
Pan Stanislav grew silent under the impression of that news. He was able to meditate over that which passed through his head, to expel feeling, to philosophize on the unwholesome excesses of the society in which he lived; but in his soul he had two sacred images,—Litka and Pani Emilia. Litka had become simply a cherished memory, but he loved Pani Emilia with a living, brotherly, and most tender affection, which he never touched in his meditations. So for a time he could not find speech; then he looked sternly at Vaskovski, and said,—
“Professor, thou art persuading her to this. I do not enter into thy mysticism and ideas from beneath a dark star, but know this,—that thou wilt take her life on thy conscience; for she has not the strength to be a Sister of Charity, and will die in a year.”
“My dear friend,” answered Vaskovski, “thou hast condemned me unjustly without a hearing. Hast thou stopped to consider what the expression ‘just man’ means?”
“When it is a question of one dear to me, I jeer at expressions.”
“She told me yesterday of this, most unexpectedly, and I asked, ‘But, my child, will you have the strength? That is arduous labor.’ She smiled at me, and said: ‘Do not refuse me, for this is my refuge, my happiness. Should it seem that I have not strength enough, they will not receive me; but if they receive me, and my strength fails afterward, I shall go sooner to Litka, and I am yearning so much for her.’ What had I to answer to such a choice, and such simplicity? What art thou able to say, even thou, who art without belief? Wouldst thou have courage to say: ‘Perhaps Litka is not in existence; a life in labor, in charity, in sacrifice, and death in Christ, may not lead to Litka at all’? Invent another consolation; but what wilt thou invent? Give her another hope, heal her with something else; but with what wilt thou heal her? Besides, thou wilt see her thyself; speak to her sincerely. Wilt thou have courage to dissuade her?”
“No,” answered Pan Stanislav, briefly; and after a while he added, “Only suffering on all sides.”
“One thing might be possible,” continued Vaskovski. “To choose instead of Sisters of Charity, whose work is beyond her strength, some contemplative order; there are those in whom the poor human atom is so dissolved in God that it ceases to lead an individual existence, and ceases to suffer.”
Pan Stanislav waved his hand. “I do not understand these things,” said he, dryly, “and I do not look into them.”