“Thou art right,—that is not our affair.”
“But how does Panna Ratkovski look?” inquired Marynia.
“Panna Ratkovski? She is not beautiful, but she has a sweet face, pale complexion, and dark eyes. You will see her, for those ladies expressed a wish to come here some day. And I persuaded them to it, for I want you to see her.”
“Well,” answered Marynia, laughing, “I shall see her, and declare my sentence. But if it be favorable?”
“I will propose; I give my word. In the worst case, I’ll get a refusal. If you say ‘no,’ I’ll go after ducks. At the end of July shooting is permitted.”
“Oh, those plans are important!” said Pani Bigiel,—”a wife or ducks! Pan Ignas would not have spoken that way.”
“Well, of what use is reason when one is in love?” said Marynia.
“You are right, and I envy him that very condition; not Panna Castelli, though I was in love with her once myself—oh, no! but just that condition in which one does not reason any longer.”
“But what have you against Panna Castelli?”
“Nothing. I owe her gratitude, for—thanks to her—I had my time of illusions; therefore I shall never say an evil word of her, though some one is pulling me by the tongue greatly. So, ladies, do not pull me.”