"I have won already, because I have as guest under my roof a certain small person who is sitting opposite me."
"You are making fun; but I am really anxious about it."
"My aunt," I replied, more seriously, "will have some compensation if she loses. My collections will be in Warsaw in a few weeks, and this has been the dearest wish of her life. She always tried to make my father give them to the town. All the papers are full of it, and praise me to an extent you have no idea of."
The dear face lit up with pleasure.
"Show me; read it to me," she said eagerly.
I had a desire to kiss her hands for that glimpse of brightness. It was a new proof. If I were indifferent to her, would she rejoice so much when I am praised?
"Not now," I replied. "I will read it when my aunt comes back, or rather she must read it, and I will hide my blushes behind you; you, at least, shall not see how foolish I look."
"Why should you look foolish?"
"Because the thing is not worth all the fuss, and if there be any merit in it, it is yours, not mine. They ought to praise you. I would give a good deal if I could tell those journalists: 'If you think well of it, go en masse and kneel at certain little feet and pour out your gratitude there!'"
"Leon! Leon!" interrupted Aniela.