Children of the Soil

And he would have grown indignant at himself, perhaps, were it not that he saw Pani Emilia rise after her finished prayer with a serene face, with an expression of great tenderness in her eyes, but without tears. He noticed, however, that she looked as sick people look, that she rose from her knees with difficulty, and that in walking she leaned on a stick. In fact, she was at the beginning of a sore disease of the loins, which later on confined her for years to the bed, and only left her at the coffin.

Before the cemetery gate the Osnovskis were waiting for them; Pani Aneta invited them to a betrothal party on the morrow, and then those “who were kind” to Prytulov.

Svirski sat with Pani Emilia in Pan Stanislav’s carriage, and for some time was collecting his impressions in silence; but at last he said, —

“How wonderful this is! To-day at a funeral, to-morrow at a betrothal; what death reaps, love sows, – and that is life!”

CHAPTER XLIX

Pan Ignas wished the betrothal to be not in the evening before people, but earlier; and his wish was gratified all the more, since Lineta, who wished to show herself to people as already betrothed, supported him before Aunt Bronich. They felt freer thus; and when people began to assemble they appeared as a young couple. The light of happiness shone from Lineta. She found a charm in that rôle of betrothed; and the rôle added charm to her. In her slender form there was something winged. Her eyelids did not fall to-day sleepily over her eyes; those eyes were full of light, her lips of smiles, her face was in blushes. She was so beautiful that Svirski, seeing her, could not refrain from quiet sighs for the lost paradise, and found calmness for his soul only when he remembered his favorite song, —

“I am singing and not sobbing,
For I have ceased to love thee too!
Hu-ha-hu!”

For that matter her beauty struck every one that day. Old Zavilovski, who had himself brought in his chair to the drawing-room, held her hands and gazed at her for a time; then, looking around at his daughter, he said, —

“Well, such a Venetian half-devil can turn the head, she can, and especially the head of a poet, for in the heads of those gentlemen is fiu, fiu! as people say.”

Then he turned to the young man and asked, —

“Well, wilt thou break my neck to-day because I said Venetian half-devil to thee?”

Pan Ignas laughed, and, bending his head, kissed the old man’s shoulder. “No; I could not break any one’s neck to-day.”

“Well,” said the old man, evidently rejoiced at those marks of honor, “may God and the Most Holy Lady bless you both! I say the Most Holy Lady, for her protection is the basis.”

When he had said this, he began to search behind in the chair, and, drawing forth a large jewel-case, said to Lineta, —

“This is from the family of the Zavilovskis; God grant thee to wear it long!”

Lineta, taking the box, bent her charming figure to kiss him on the shoulder; he embraced her neck, and said to the bridegroom, —

“But thou might come.”

And he kissed both on the forehead, and said, with greater emotion than he wished to show, —

“Now love and revere each other, like honest people.”

Lineta opened the case, in which on a sapphire-colored satin cushion gleamed a splendid rivière of diamonds. The old man said once more with emphasis, “From the family of the Zavilovskis,” wishing evidently to show that the young lady who married a Zavilovski, even without property, was not doing badly. But no one heard him, for the heads of the ladies – of Lineta, Pani Aneta, Pani Mashko, Pani Bronich and even Marynia – bent over the flashing stones; and breath was stopped in their mouths for a time, till at last a murmur of admiration and praise broke the silence.

“It is not a question of diamonds!” cried Pani Bronich, casting herself almost into the arms of old Zavilovski, “but as the gift, so the heart.”

“Do not mention it Pani; do not mention it!” said the old man, warding her off.

Now the society broke into pairs or small groups; the betrothed were so occupied with each other that the whole world vanished from before them. Osnovski and Svirski went up to Marynia and Pani Bigiel. Kopovski undertook to entertain the lady of the house; Pan Stanislav was occupied with Pani Mashko. As to Mashko himself, he was anxious evidently to make a nearer acquaintance with the Crsus, for he so fenced him off with his armchair that no one could approach him, and began then to talk of remote times and the present, which, as he divined easily, had become a favorite theme for the old man.

But he was too keen-witted to be of Zavilovski’s opinion in all things. Moreover, the old man did not attack recent times always; nay, he admired them in part. He acknowledged that in many regards they were moving toward the better; still he could not take them in. But Mashko explained to him that everything must change on earth; hence nobles, as well as other strata of society.

“I, respected sir,” said he, “hold to the land through a certain inherited instinct, – through that something which attracts to land the man who came from it; but, while managing my own property, I am an advocate, and I am one on principle. We should have our own people in that department; if we do not, we shall be at the mercy of men coming from other spheres, and often directly opposed to us. And I must render our landholders this justice, that for the greater part they understand this well, and choose to confide their business to me rather than to others. Some think it even a duty.”

“The bar has been filled from our ranks at all times,” answered Pan Zavilovski; “but will the noble succeed in other branches? As God lives, I cannot tell. I hear, and hear that we ought to undertake everything; but people forget that to undertake and to succeed are quite different. Show me the man who has succeeded.”

“Here he is, respected sir, Pan Polanyetski: he in a commission house has made quite a large property; and what he has is in ready cash, so that he could put it all on the table to-morrow. He will not deny that my counsels have been of profit to him frequently; but what he has made, he has made through commerce, mainly in grain.”

“Indeed, indeed!” said the old noble, gazing at Pan Stanislav, and staring from wonder, “has he really made property? Is it possible? Is he of the real Polanyetskis? That’s a good family.”

“And that stalwart man with brown hair?”

“Is Svirski the artist.”

“I know him, for I saw him abroad; and the Svirskis did not make fires as an occupation.”

“But he can only paint money, for he hasn’t made any.”

“He hasn’t!” said Mashko, in a confidential tone. “Not one big estate in Podolia will give as much income as aquarelles give him.”

“What is that?”

“Pictures in water-colors.”

“Is it possible? not even oil paintings! And he too – ? Ha! then, perhaps, my relative will make something at verses. Let him write; let him write. I will not take it ill of him. Pan Zygmund was a noble, and he wrote, and not for display. Pan Adam was a noble also; but he is famous, – more famous than that brawler who has worked with democracy – What’s his name? Never mind! You say that times are changing. Hm, are they? Let them change for themselves, if only with God’s help, for the better.”

“The main thing,” said Mashko, “is not to shut up a man’s power in his head, nor capital in chests; whoever does that, simply sins against society.”

“Well, but with permission! How do you understand this, – Am I not free to close with a key what belongs to me; must I leave my chests open to a robber?”

Mashko smiled with a shade of loftiness, and, putting his hand on the arm of the chair, said, —

“That is not the question, respected sir.” And then he began to explain the principles of political economy to Pan Zavilovski; the old noble listened, nodding his head, and repeating from time to time, —

“Indeed! that is something new! but I managed without it.”

Pani Bronich followed the betrothed with eyes full of emotion, and at the same time told Plavitski (who on his part was following Pani Aneta with eyes not less full of emotion) about the years of her youth, her life with Teodor, and the misfortune which met them because of the untimely arrival in the world of their only descendant, and Plavitski listened with distraction; but, moved at last by her own narrative, she said with a somewhat quivering voice, —

“So all my love, hope, and faith are in Lineta. You will understand this, for you too have a daughter. And as to Lolo, just think what a blessing that child would have been had he lived, since even dead he rendered us so much service – ”

“Immensely touching, immensely touching!” interrupted Plavitski.

“Oh, it is true,” continued Pani Bronich. “How often in harvest time did my husband run with the cry, ‘Lolo monte!’ and send out all his laboring men to the field. With others, wheat sprouted in the shocks, with us, never. Oh, true! And the loss was the greater in this, that that was our last hope. My husband was a man in years, and I can say that for me he was the best of protectors; but after this misfortune, only a protector.”

“Here I cease to understand him,” said Plavitski. “Ha, ha! I fail altogether to understand him.”

And, opening his mouth, he looked roguishly at Pani Bronich; she slapped him lightly with her fan, and said, —

“These men are detestable; for them there is nothing sacred.”

“Who is that, a real Perugino, – that pale lady, with whom your husband is talking?” asked Svirski now of Marynia.