At that moment Pan Stanislav came to her; and at sight of her poor, pale face, he felt a sudden sympathy, to which his heart, kind in itself, yielded easily.
“My poor dear,” said he, “it is time for thee to go to bed; only let the rain pass a little. Thou art not afraid of thunder?”
“No; sit near me.”
“The summer shower will pass soon. How sleepy thou art!”
“Perhaps I ought not to have come, Stas. I have great need of rest.”
He had a conscience which was not too clear, and was angry at himself. But it had not come to his mind that what she was saying of rest might relate to him and his attempts and conduct with Pani Mashko; but he felt all at once that if she had suspected, her peace would be ruined forever through his fault, and since he was not a spoiled man, fear and compunction possessed him.
“To the deuce with all dances!” said he. “I will stay at home, and take care of that which belongs to me.”
And he said this so sincerely that a shadow of doubt could not pass through her head, for she knew him perfectly. Hence a feeling of immense relief came upon her.
“When thou art with me,” said she, “I feel less tired right away. A moment ago I felt ill somehow. Aneta sat near me; but what can I care for her? When out of health, one needs a person who is near, who is one’s own, and reliable. Perhaps thou wilt scold me for what I say, since it is strange to say such things at a party, among strangers, and so long after marriage. I understand myself that it is somewhat strange; but I need thee really, for I love thee much.”
“And I love thee, dear being,” answered Pan Stanislav, who felt then that love for her could alone be honest and peaceful.