Further meditation was interrupted by Pan Plavitski; who, meeting him at the cross-street, stopped him, and began conversation,—
“I am just from Karlsbad,” said he. “O Lord, how many elegant women! I am going to Buchynek to-day. I have just seen Stanislav, and know that my daughter is well; but he has grown thin somehow.”
“Yes for he has had trouble. Have you heard of Pan Ignas?”
“I have, I have! But what will you say of that?”
“A misfortune.”
“A misfortune; but this too, that there are no principles at present. All those new ideas, those atheisms of yours, and hypnotisms, and socialisms. The young generation have no principles,—that is where the trouble lies.”
CHAPTER LIX.
Pan Stanislav, under the impression of the catastrophe, forgot utterly his promise to inform Osnovski by letter how Pan Ignas had borne the rupture of the marriage and the departure of Lineta. But Osnovski, having learned from the newspapers what had happened, inquired every day by telegraph about the condition of the patient, and was greatly alarmed. In the press and in public the most contradictory accounts were current. Some journals declared that his condition was hopeless; others predicted a speedy recovery. For a long time Pan Stanislav could report nothing certain; and only after two weeks did he send a despatch that the sick man had ceased to waver between death and life, and that the doctors guaranteed his recovery.
Osnovski answered with a long letter, in which he gave various news from Ostend,—