“Yes,” answered Vaskovski; “I have so many friends there, like you, who love me—but here, no—and therefore I am homesick.”
Then he turned to Pan Stanislav: “The journals here have printed an account of my essay. Some scoff altogether. God be with them! Some agree that a new epoch would begin through the introduction of Christ and His spirit into history. One writer confessed that individuals treat one another in a Christian spirit, but that nations lead a pagan life yet. He even called the thought a great one; but he and all others, when I affirm this to be a mission which God has predestined to us, and other youngest of the Aryans, seize their sides from laughter. And this pains me. They give it to be understood also that I have a little here—”
And poor Vaskovski tapped his forehead with his finger. After a while, however, he raised his head and said,—
“A man sows the seed in sadness and often in doubt; but the seed falls on the field, and God grant that it spring up!”
Then he began to inquire about Pani Emilia; at last he turned to them his eyes, which were as if wakened from sleep, and asked naïvely,—
“But it is pleasant for you to be with each other?”
Marynia, instead of answering, sprang to her husband, and, nestling her head up to his shoulder, said,—
“Oh, see, Professor, this is how we are together,—so!”
And Pan Stanislav stroked her dark head with his hand.