Pan Stanislav looked carefully at Osnovski, bit his mustache, and was silent.
“I sent for the doctor,” continued Osnovski, after a while, “and lost my head a second time. Happily, Stefania Ratkovski was there, and that worthy Pani Mashko. Both occupied themselves with Anetka so earnestly that I shall be grateful to them for a lifetime. Pani Mashko seems cold, but she is such a cordial person—”
“I judge simply,” said Pan Stanislav, wishing to turn the conversation from Pani Mashko, “that if old Zavilovski had left his property to Ignas, all this would not have happened.”
“Perhaps not; but for me again it is not subject to doubt that if Lineta had married Ignas, and even if he owned all Pan Zavilovski’s property, her instinct would attract her toward as many Kopovskis as she might chance to meet in her lifetime; she is that kind of soul. But I understand some points; I have said that it is possible to lose one’s mind at the thought that things are as they are, but I give a partial account to myself of what has happened. Hers is too common a nature to love really such a man as Pan Ignas; she needs Kopovskis. But they talked into her various lofty impulses, and finally she talked into herself that which did not exist. They seized on Ignas through vanity, through self-love, because of public opinion, and because they had no true knowledge of themselves; but what is insincere cannot last. From the moment when their vanity was satisfied, Ignas ceased to interest those ladies. Then they were afraid that with him, perhaps, they would not have such a life as alone is of worth to them; perhaps he, with his too lofty style, began to weary them. Add to this the story of the will, which, without being certainly the main cause of the catastrophe, diminished Pan Ignas in their eyes; add, before all, the instincts of Lineta’s nature; add Kopovski, and you have an answer to all. There are women like Pani Polanyetski or my Anetka; there are women, also, like Lineta and her aunt.”
Here Osnovski was silent again for a time; then he said,—
“I see the regret and indignation of your wife, and I am sorry that you have not seen how this affected mine—or even Pani Mashko. Yes, there are women and women; but I tell you that we ought to thank God every day on our knees for having given us such wives as we have.” And his voice trembled with emotion.
Pan Stanislav, though for him it was a question mainly of Pan Ignas, was simply astounded that a man who, some minutes before, understood things so profoundly and well, could be so naïve. A bitter smile came on him, too, at mention of Pani Mashko’s indignation. In general, he was seized by a feeling of a certain crushing irony of life, the whole immensity of which he had never seen before so distinctly.
“Will you not see Ignas?” asked he, after a while.
“I tell you plainly that I do not feel sufficient courage; to-day I return to Prytulov, and to-day we will go from our station. I must take my wife abroad,—first, because she herself begged me tearfully to do so, and second, perhaps her health will be restored by change of air. We will go somewhere to the seaside, only not to Scheveningen, where they went with Kopovski. But I have a great request to make of you. You know how I love and value Ignas? Let me know by letter how the poor man receives the news, and what happens to him. I would ask the favor of Svirski, but I may not see him.”
Then Osnovski covered his face and said,—