“In October I cannot; I have my woman’s reasons, which detain me in Warsaw.”
“What are they?”
Pani Emilia began to laugh.
“The first and most important, but purely womanly, reason, is to marry that gentleman sitting there so gloomy,” said she, pointing to Pan Stanislav, “but really so much in love.”
He woke from thoughtfulness, and waved his hand. But Vaskovski inquired with his usual naïveté of a child,—
“Always with Marynia Plavitski?”
“Yes,” replied Pani Emilia. “He has been in Kremen, and it would be vain for him to deny that she took his heart greatly.”
“I cannot deny,” answered Pan Stanislav.
But further conversation was interrupted in an unpleasant manner, for Litka grew weak on a sudden. In a moment she was choking, and had one of her attacks of palpitation of the heart, which alarmed even doctors. The mother seized her at once in her arms; Pan Stanislav ran to the restaurant for ice; Vaskovski began to draw the garden bench with effort toward the table, so that she might stretch on it and breathe with more freedom.
“Thou art wearied, my child, art thou not?” asked Pani Emilia, with pale lips. “See, my love, it was too far—Still the doctor permitted. So anxious! But this is nothing; it will pass, it will pass! My treasure, my love!” And she began to kiss the damp face of the little girl.