“Thy future lady will not only consent,” answered Marynia, “but she has lost her head from delight, and wants to jump through the room, as if she were ten years of age.”
To which Plavitski answered, “If the cross of a solitary old man can be of use in your distant journey, I will bless you.”
And he raised his eyes and his hand toward heaven, to the unspeakable delight of Bukatski; but Marynia drew down the raised hand, and, kissing it, said with laughter,—
“There will be time for that, papa; we are going away only after the wedding.”
“And, speaking plainly,” added Bukatski, “then there will be a buying of tickets, and giving baggage to be weighed, and starting,—nothing more.”
To this Plavitski turned to the cynic, and said, with a certain unction,—
“Have you come to this,—that you look on the blessing of a lonely old man and a father as superfluous?”
Bukatski, instead of an answer, embraced Plavitski, kissed him near the waistcoat, and said,—
“But would the ‘lonely old man’ not play piquet, so as to let those two mad heads talk themselves out?”
“But with a rubicon?” asked Plavitski.