"Selim!"
"Nothing, nothing! I return to my subject. Thou, sir, art a man of weeping, and thou, young lady, art a lady of laughing; get married. What will happen? He will begin to blubber, and you to laugh; you will never understand each other, never agree, different always; and what do I care for chosen natures? Oh, with me it would be different: we should simply laugh all our lives, and that would be the whole story."
"What are you saying?" answered Hania, and then both laughed heartily.
As to me, I had not the least desire to laugh. Selim did not know what injustice he did me in persuading Hania of the difference between her disposition and mine. I was angry in the highest degree, and answered Selim with sarcasm,—
"Thou hast a strange view, and it astonishes me all the more, since I have noticed that thou hast a weakness for melancholy persons."
"I?" said he, with unfeigned astonishment.
"Yes. I will merely remind thee of a certain maiden, some fuchsias, and a little face between them. I give thee my word that I do not know such a melancholy face."
Hania clapped her hands.
"Oho! I am learning something new!" cried she, laughing. "Is she pretty, Pan Selim; is she pretty?"
I thought that Selim would grow confused and lose his boldness; but he merely said,—