"A wonderful beekeeper, a wonderful grandfather!" repeats she, laughing. "Such a thing could only come to the head of an artist!"
Speaking in parenthesis, she herself looks like a summer morning. She is in a robe of raw silk and a straw hat with poppies. I cannot take my eyes from her. She came in an open carriage. Therefore people begin at once to surround us; but what does she care for that!
At last the carriage moves on; my heart beats with more animation; in a quarter of an hour I shall see the Helena dreamed of.
We have not driven a hundred yards when I see Ostrynski at a distance coming toward us. That man must be omnipresent! Seeing us, he halts, bows to Eva, then looks quickly at both of us, especially at me. I do not admit that he recognizes me; still, after we pass him I look around, and see that he is standing there all the time, following us with his eyes. Only at the turn do we lose him from sight. The carriage moves on rather swiftly; still it seems to me that the ride lasts an age. At length we stop in the alley of Belvedere.
We are before Hela's house.
I fly to the door as if shot at it.
Eva runs after me, crying,—
"What a hateful old grandfather!"
The servant, in a very showy livery, opens the door; and the next instant opens his eyes very widely at sight of me. Eva allays his astonishment, saying that the grandfather came with her, and we go upstairs.
The waiting-maid appears in a moment, declares that the lady is dressing in the next chamber, and vanishes.