"It is I, Repa's wife?"
"Why?"
The woman bent as low as she could with the child, and seized his feet.
"I came for salvation, serene heir, and for mercy."
"My dear woman give me peace, even on a Sunday!" interrupted Pan Skorabevski with as good faith as if the woman had been attacking him every week day. "You see, besides, that I have guests. So I shall not leave them for you."
"I will wait."
"Well, wait, then. Besides, I shall not be broken in two."
Then Pan Skorabevski pushed his bulk back into the porch; the woman withdrew to the garden fence, and stood there in humility. But she had to wait long enough. The lord and lady amused themselves with conversation; and to her ears flew from time to time glad laughter, which gripped her heart wonderfully, for she was not inclined to laughter, poor thing. Later Panna Yadviga and Pan Victor came home; and all entered the house. The sun inclined gradually to its setting. To the porch came out the lackey Yasek, whom Pan Skorabevski always called "one another," and began to lay the table for tea. He changed the cloth, set glasses on the table, and put spoons into them with a rattle. Marysia waited and waited. It came to her head to go back to her cottage and return later; but she was afraid that it might be too late then; so she sat down on the grass near the fence and gave her breast to the child. The child suckled and went to sleep, but with an unhealthy sleep, for since morning he was weak, somehow. She too felt that heat and cold ran through her from foot to head.
At times yawning seized her; but she did not mind that, she just waited patiently. By degrees it grew dark, and the moon rose on the dome of the sky. The table was set for tea; lamps were burning on the porch; but the company did not come out, for the young lady was playing on the piano.
Repa's wife repeated the "Angel of the Lord," at the paling; and then she thought how Pan Skorabevski would save her. She did not know well how; she did not understand that he, from his position, was acquainted with the commissioner and with the chief of the district; that if he would only say a word, all would be well, and with God's help the evil would be turned aside. Meanwhile she thought that if Zolzik or the mayor opposed, he would know where to go for justice. "The young lord has always been kind and good to people," thought she, "so he will not desert me." And she was not mistaken, for Pan Skorabevski was really a humane man. She remembered that he had always been kind to Repa; further, that her late mother had nursed Panna Yadviga: so consolation entered her heart. That she had been waiting already a couple of hours seemed so natural that she did not stop to think over it.