“It must be that he returned with a proposition ready, in which he saw his own happiness; meanwhile a thunderbolt, as it were, fell.”
“Why did he speak of this to no one, neither to me, nor to you, nor to Krysia herself? Maybe the girl would not have made her vow.”
“It is a wonderful thing,” said Zagloba; “besides, he confides in me, and trusts my head more than his own; and not merely has he not acknowledged this affection to me, but even said once that it was friendship, nothing more.”
“He was always secretive.”
“Then though you are his sister, you don’t know him. His heart is like the eyes of a sole, on top. I have never met a more outspoken man; but I admit that he has acted differently this time. Are you sure that he said nothing to Krysia?”
“God of power! Krysia is mistress of her own will, for my husband as guardian has said to her, ‘If the man is worthy and of honorable blood, you may overlook his property.’ If Michael had spoken to her before his departure, she would have answered yes or no, and he would have known what to look for.”
“True, because this has struck him unexpectedly. Now give your woman’s wit to this business.”
“What is wit here? Help is needed.”
“Let him take Basia.”
“But if, as is evident, he prefers that one—Ha! if this had only come into my head.”