Pani Yamish half closed her eyes. “That ease,” said she, “with which you scatter sparks, c’est inoui! How is your health to-day?”
“At this moment I feel healthy and young.”
“And Marynia?”
“She was at early Mass. We wait for you both at five. My little housekeeper is breaking her head over supper. A beautiful day.”
“We shall come if neuralgia lets me, and my lord husband is willing.”
“How is it, neighbor?” asked Plavitski.
“I am always glad to go,” answered the neighbor, with the voice of a crushed man.
“Then, au revoir.”
“Au revoir,” answered the lady; and turning to Pan Stanislav, she reached her hand to him. “It was a pleasure for me to make your acquaintance.”
Plavitski gave his arm to the lady, and conducted her to the carriage. The two neighbors went away also. Pan Stanislav remained a while with Gantovski, who looked at him without much good-will. Pan Stanislav remembered him as an awkward boy; from the “Little Bear,” he had grown to be a stalwart man, somewhat heavy perhaps in his movements, but rather presentable, with a very shapely, light-colored mustache. Pan Stanislav did not begin conversation, waiting till the other should speak first; but he thrust his hands into his pockets, and maintained a stubborn silence.