"I see," answered Pani Krzycki, "but I fear that conversation fatigues him yet. What did he say to you with such animation?"
For a moment, Miss Anney inclined her head and began to smooth out with her fingers the folds of her bright dress as if troubled, but later, having evidently formed a sudden resolution, she raised her frank eyes straight at Pani Krzycki, just as she had previously at Ladislaus, and replied:
"He said such pleasant and loving things; that he wants to go to church to-morrow and say 'Under Thy protection'--together with me--"
In her eyes there were no interrogatories, nor uneasiness, nor challenge, but great goodness and truth.
Pani Krzycki, on the other hand, was put out of countenance by the candor of the reply, so that at first she was silent. It seemed to her that what heretofore was a doubtful, blurred, and indistinct supposition, lightened up and plainly emerged upon the surface, but she tried to disbelieve it; so, after a certain hesitation, she replied:
"Laudie otherwise would be ungrateful. He owes you so much--and I also."
Miss Anney understood perfectly that Pani Krzycki wanted to give her to understand that the motive of Ladislaus' words was only gratitude, but she had no time to reply to the remark, as at that time across the arm of her chair the slender form of Marynia was leaning:
"Aninka, may I trouble you to step over here for a moment?"
"Certainly," answered Miss Anney.
And rising, she left. Pani Krzycki eyed her and sighed. There was in that beautiful form so much youth, health, radiance, so many golden tresses, glances, so much bloom, warmth, and womanly fascination, that an older and experienced woman, like Pani Krzycki, was forced to admit in her soul that it would have been rather incomprehensible if Ladislaus had remained indifferent to all those charms.