“Oi! thou wilt not sell,” said she, shaking her head.
“Why not?”
“Because,” said she, taking his ear, and whispering into it, “thou lovest me.”
And he began to nod in sign that that was true. But they agreed, to the great delight of Marynia, to go with their whole household to Kremen at the end of the week,—a thing perfectly possible, for Pan Stanislav had made the house ready for the coming of the “heiress.” He assured her, too, that almost nothing had changed, and he had tried only that the rooms should not seem too empty; then he began to laugh suddenly, and said, “I am curious to know what papa will say to this.”
The conjectural astonishment of “papa” was a new cause of delight to Marynia. For that matter, there was no need to wait long for Plavitski, since he came to dinner half an hour later. He had barely showed himself when Marynia, throwing herself on his shoulder, told with one breath the happy news; he was really astonished, and even moved. Perhaps he felt the happiness of his daughter; perhaps there was roused in him an attachment for that corner, in which he had lived so many years; it is enough that his eyes grew moist. First he mentioned his sweat, with which that soil was soaked; then he began to say something of the “old man,” and of his “refuge in the country;” at last, pressing Pan Stanislav’s head between his palms, he said,—
“God grant thee luck to manage as well as I have managed, and be assured that I shall not refuse thee either my assistance or my counsels.”
In the evening, at the Bigiels’, Marynia, still intoxicated with her happiness, said to Pani Bigiel,—
“Well, now, tell me, how could I help loving a man like that?”