"I cannot deny that she learns easily and willingly," answered Pani d'Yves, turning to me; "but still I must complain of her."
"Oh, Pani! what new fault have I committed?" cried Hania, crossing her hands.
"What fault? You will explain here right away," answered Pani d'Yves. "Just imagine, this young lady, when she finds a moment of time, takes up a novel immediately; and I have strong reasons for thinking that when she goes to bed, instead of quenching the candle and sleeping, she reads for whole hours."
"She does a very bad thing; but I know from some source that she follows the example of her teacher," said my father, who was fond of teasing Pani d'Yves when he was in good humor.
"I beg your pardon greatly; I am forty-five years of age," answered the French woman.
"Why, just think, I never should have said that," answered my father.
"You are malicious."
"I do not know that; but I know this, that if Hania gets novels from any place, it is not from the library, for Father Ludvik has the key to it. The blame therefore falls on the teacher."
In truth, Pani d'Yves had read novels all her life, and, having a passion to relate them to every one, she must surely have related some to Hania; hence, in the words of my father, which were half in jest, a certain truth lay concealed, which he wished to emphasize purposely.
"Oh, see! Some one is coming!" cried Kazio, suddenly.