The fingers with which she grasped the candle seemed transparent and rosy; the gleam crept along her bosom, lighted her lips and her small face which looked somewhat drowsy and sad, perhaps because her eyes were in a deep shade while her forehead and the glorious bright hair, which was as a crown just above it, were still in full radiance. And she all in quiet and splendor stood there in the gloom like an angel created from ruddy brightness.
"Oh, as God is dear to me, a vision!" said the prelate.
Then Pan Gideon called,--
"Anulka!"
Leaving the light on a nitch of the chimney, she ran to them and gave greeting, joyously. Pan Gideon pressed her to his heart with much feeling, commanded her to rejoice at the arrival of a guest so distinguished, a man famous as a giver of counsel, and when after greeting they entered the dining-hall he asked,--
"Is supper over?"
"No. The servants were to bring it from the kitchen, and that is why no one was standing at the entrance."
The prelate looked at the old noble, and asked,--
"Then perhaps without waiting?"
"No, no," answered Pan Gideon, "Pani Vinnitski will be here directly."