“He says that Osnovski made an arrangement one day to go with some Englishmen to Blanckenberg to shoot dolphins. Meanwhile he was late at the railroad, or tramway. Having an hour’s time before him, he went home again and found Kopovski in his house. You can imagine what he must have seen, since a man so mild was carried away, and lost his head to that degree that, without thinking of the scandal, he pounded Kopovski, so that Kopovski is in bed.”
“He was so much in love with his wife that he might have gone mad even, or killed her,” said Bigiel. “What a misfortune for the man!”
“See what women are!” exclaimed Svirski.
Pan Stanislav was silent. Bigiel, who was very sorry for Osnovski, began to walk back and forth in the room. At last he stopped before Svirski, and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, said,—
“But still I don’t understand anything.”
Svirski, not answering directly, said, turning to Pan Stanislav, “You remember what I said of her in Rome, when I was painting your wife’s portrait? Old Zavilovski called her a crested lark. I understand how just that was; for a crested lark has another name,—‘the soiler.’ What a woman! I knew that she was not of high worth, but I did not suppose that she could go so far—and with such a man as Kopovski! Now I see various things more clearly. Kopovski was there all the time, as if courting Panna Castelli, then as if courting Panna Ratkovski; and of course he and the lady were in agreement, inventing appearances together. What a cheery life the fellow had! Castelli for dinner, and Pani Osnovski for dessert! Pleasant for such a man! Between those two women there must have been rivalry; one vying with the other in concessions to attract him to herself. You can understand that in such a place woman’s self-esteem had small value.”
“You are perfectly right,” said Pan Stanislav. “Pani Osnovski was always most opposed to the marriage of Kopovski to Castelli; and very likely for that reason she was so eager to have her marry Pan Ignas. When, in spite of everything, Kopovski and Castelli came to an agreement, she went to extremes to keep Kopovski for herself. Their relation is an old story.”
“I begin to understand a little,” said Bigiel; “but how sad this is!”
“Sad?” said Svirski; “on the contrary. It was cheerful for Kopovski. Still, it was not. ‘The beginning of evil is pleasant, but the end is bitter.’ There is no reason to envy him. Do you know that Osnovski is hardly any weaker than I? for, through regard for his wife, he was afraid of growing fat, and from morning till evening practised every kind of exercise? Oh, how he loved her! what a kind man he is! and how sorry I am for him! In him that woman had everything,—heart, property, a dog’s attachment,—and she trampled on everything. Castelli, at least, was not a wife yet.”
“And have they separated really?”