"Good-day, Hela!" cries Eva.
"Good-day, Evus!" answers a wonderful, a fresh voice, "right away! right away! I shall be ready in a moment."
"Hela, thou knowest not what is waiting for thee, nor whom thou wilt see. I have brought thee a 'grandfather,'—the most genuine 'grandfather-minstrel' that has ever walked over the steppes of the Ukraine."
A cry of joy is heard in the chamber; the door opens suddenly, and in rushes Hela, in her corsets, her hair hanging down.
"A grandfather! a blind grandfather! here in Warsaw!"
"He is not blind; he sees!" cried Eva, hurriedly, not wishing to carry the jest too far.
But it was late, for that instant I throw myself at Hela's feet, and cry,—
"Cherub of the Lord!"
I embrace her feet with both hands, raising my eyes the while; I see a little more than the form of those feet. Nations kneel down! People come with censers! A Venus of Milo! a perfect one!
"Cherub!" I repeat, with genuine ecstasy.