Stella.—There will be nothing in it, because Count Drahomir, although very sympathetic, is not my fiancé. I am betrothed to Mr. Pretwic.
Czeska.—Mr. George Pretwic?
Stella.—Yes. Are you surprised?
Czeska.—No, my dear child. May God bless you. Why should I be surprised? But I am so fond of Count Drahomir, so I thought it was he. Mr. George Pretwic!—Oh, I am not surprised at all that he should love you. But it came a little too soon. How long have you known each other? Living at my Berwinek I do not know anything that goes on in the neighborhood.
Stella.—Since three months. My fiancé has inherited an estate in this neighborhood from the Jazlowieckis, and came, as you know, from far off. He was a near relation of the Jazlowieckis, and he himself comes of a very good family. Dear madam, have you not heard of the Pretwics?
Czeska.—Nothing at all, my dear Stella. What do I care for heraldry!
Stella.—In former times, centuries ago, the Pretwics were related to our family. It is a very good family. Otherwise papa would not have consented. Well then, Mr. Pretwic came here, took possession of the Jazlowieckis estate, became acquainted with us, and—
Czeska.—And fell in love with you. I should have done the same if I were in his place. It gives him more value in my eyes.
Stella.—Has he needed it?
Czeska.—No, my little kitten—rest easy. You know I am laughed at for seeing everything in a rosy hue. He belongs to a good family, he is young, rich, good-looking, well-bred, but—