The cloudlets looming between Hanka and Ladislaus began by degrees to be transformed into clouds. At times they ceased to mutually understand each other. Hanka was more and more disturbed by the thought whether Ladislaus, notwithstanding his good heart and his ability to appreciate everything which is exalted and noble, was not a weak character, that in a moment of sudden impulse or passionate ecstasy is unable to resist and cannot muster within himself sufficient strength, even though his own worth is involved, and at this thought she was oppressed by a deep sorrow. But she was yet more painfully nettled on another side of the matter. This was that she arrived at the conviction that his feelings towards her were better, purer and, as it were, more shy at the time when he thought that she was Miss Anney. She remembered various moments, both in Jastrzeb and in Warsaw, in which she was certain that this burning flame of love, which glowed in his heart, was at the same time a sacrificial flame of esteem. And now when she had told him that she is the former Hanka that pure fire has changed into an ignition of the senses. Why? Was the cause of this their former sin; was it that she was a peasant? In the answer to those questions lay the pain, for Hanka felt that whatever happened was the result of these causes.
But she was mistaken in thinking that Ladislaus did not understand that just for these two reasons he ought to act directly contrary, in order to efface in her the memory of sin and to raise her in her own eyes and to respect her as his future wife. He understood this quite clearly, and often it happened that after parting from her he upbraided himself, not mincing words, and in his soul made a solemn promise of reformation. But as in his easy life he had not accustomed himself to contend with anything and, above all, with himself, therefore this lasted but a short time--as long only as he was away from her, as long as he was not enveloped by the warmth emanating from her; only when he was not absorbed with her eyes; did not feel her hand in his own, and did not intoxicate himself with her feminine attractions. Then reason blinded in him and darkened; he became the slave of blood, full of sophisms, the agent of senses, and the recollection of the former Hanka, instead of repressing the temptation, only increased it the more.
Under such conditions, sooner or later, the storm had to break above the heads of both and create desolation. Accordingly it burst sooner than Krzycki could have foreseen.
One day, coming at the twilight hour to Hanka, he found her in a strange and unusual condition. She was agitated, her countenance was suffused with blushes, her eyes were red, and the hand which she tendered to him, palpably trembled. At the beginning she did not want to tell him what was the matter, but when they sat beside each other, he began to beg of her that she would not make anything a secret with him, but to tell him what occurred, not only as a fiancé, but as her best friend.
Hanka was always conciliated by an appeal to friendship. Therefore after a while she said, smiling sadly:
"I was not concerned about any secret but I preferred to keep to myself an unpleasantness. Did you, sir, ever notice my servant, Pauly?"
(Hanka from a certain time addressed her fiancé as "sir," believing that in this manner she would hold him more easily at a proper distance.)
"Pauly?" repeated Ladislaus, and though, after all, he thus far had done nothing with which to reproach himself, a sudden disquiet arose in him. "Pauly? Why of course! Why, she was at Jastrzeb and I saw her here everyday. What happened?"
"She created for me a horribly disagreeable scene and has left me."
"Why?"