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Without Dogma Part 24

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"Oh, what lovely flowers!"

I said in a low voice:--

"And you the most lovely among them!"

Then added, earnestly:--

"You believe me, Aniela, if I tell you that it is in this room I wish to die some day!"

Oh, how much sincerity there was in these words. Aniela's face grew misty; all the radiance had gone. I saw that my words had touched a chord, as all words do that come from the depth of the soul. For a moment her whole body swayed as if some inward power pushed her towards me. But she resisted still. She stood before me, her eyes veiled by the long lashes, and said, with mournful dignity:--

"Let me be at ease with you, Leon; do not sadden me."

"Very well, Aniela; I will not say anything more; here is my hand upon it."

I gave her my hand, and she pressed it warmly, as if by that pressure she wanted to say all she forbade her lips to utter. It indemnified me for all I had suffered, and almost made me stagger on my feet. For the first time I felt distinctly that I was taking for my own this being,--body and soul. It was a sensation of such immeasurable happiness as to cause me almost pain. New, unknown worlds began to open for me. From this moment I grew quite convinced that her resistance was only a question of time.

My aunt returned from the stables in excellent humor; no attempt had been made upon Naughty Boy's precious health. The trainer, Webb, to all inquiries, had the same answer,--"All right." Jack Goose was animated by the boldest spirit. We went to the window to see the future conquerors come from the stables; for it was time they went to the Mokotoff Field, there to pace around until their turn arrived.

A few minutes later we saw the grooms leading them into the yard, encased from top to bottom as in a pillow-slip. Only the soft eyes were visible through the slit; and from below, the shapely feet that seemed wrought in steel. They were followed by Webb and our little home-bred Englishman, Jack Goose, in a new overcoat, which concealed his silks and jockey-boots. I called out to him through the open window:--

"Mind, and don't get beaten, Kuba!"

He raised his cap, and pointing with it at Naughty Boy, replied in the purest, not London, but Bursany, dialect:--

"Bedom prosz jasnie hrabiego widzieli, ale ino jegozad." (They will see him, my lord, but only his hind-quarters.)

We sat down to a hurried lunch; nevertheless my aunt had time to read what the papers had to say about the future museum. It is strange how sensitive women are to public applause for their nearest mankind. My aunt fairly beamed at me through her spectacles, and was incomparable when she now and then, interrupting the reading, glanced keenly at Aniela, and then said in her most dogmatic tone:--

"They do not exaggerate the least bit. He was always like that."

Praise heaven there was not another sceptic mind present, otherwise I should have looked foolish indeed.

It was time for the ladies to dress. Before leaving the room my aunt turned to me and said with the most innocent expression of face:--

"We must be quick, for I promised to call for Panna Zawilowski; she was going with her father, but as he is suffering from an attack of gout I shall have to chaperon her."

With this she went to her room. We looked at each other, Aniela and I; the corners of her mouth twitched with merriment. "Aniela, it is a new matrimonial scheme, what shall I do?" She put a finger to her lips in warning that I spoke too loud, and disappeared within her room; presently the lovely head peeped out through the half-open door.

"I just remembered you have not asked Miss Hilst," she said.

"No, I have not asked her."

"Why?"

"Because I love her on the sly," I retorted, laughing.

"Seriously, why did you not invite her?"

"If you wish I will invite her now."

"It is as you wish," she replied, and disappeared again.

But I preferred not to invite Miss Hilst.

An hour later we were driving in the Belvederski Avenue. Aniela wore a cream-colored dress trimmed with lace. I have such a knack of saying with my eyes what my lips must not utter, that Aniela read in them my rapture. I recognized it in her face, that looked half-pleased, half-vexed. We stopped on the way before the Zawilowski villa, and before I had time to ring, the door opened, and Panna Zawilowska herself came out. She stood before me a vision in silver gray, rather a cold vision, as she barely nodded to me before going to my aunt.

She is rather plain than pretty,--a blond with steely blue eyes and studied manners. She is considered a very pattern of distinction, and with good reason; that is, if distinction means the same as stiffness.

Her treatment of me is as cold as her eyes, too cold even to be quite natural. If this is a method adopted on purpose to chafe my vanity, it is very foolish, for it only bores me, and does not provoke me in the least. I am rather glad of it, as it permits me to pay her only such attentions as simple politeness exacts.

To-day I paid her a little more attention; she served me in fact as a screen to avert any suspicion from Aniela. Presently we drove on again, but very slowly, as in front and in rear as far as the eye could reach, all sorts of vehicles were moving in the same direction.

Before us and behind, there was a perfect stream of sunshades; the various colors of which shone in the sun and created a warmly tinted shadow from beneath which peeped forth, women's heads with delicate and refined features. There was the average number of pretty faces, but they expressed a want of temperament. I did not even see it in the financial world, which, besides many other things, puts on temperament rather than possesses it in reality. Among the carriages not a few displayed considerable taste, and the bright toilets changing and gleaming in the sun on a background of green trees, the crowds of fine people and fine horses gave the whole show a highly civilized appearance, not lacking either in picturesqueness. I was glad to see Aniela pleased with the motion and turmoil. Replying to my casual remarks she looked at me with grat.i.tude as if it were I that had arranged it all for her pleasure. Sitting opposite, I could look at her without constraint, but I turned oftener towards Panna Zawilowska, from whom blew a cold air, as from a decanter of iced water, which began to amuse me; her words and manner seemed to imply that she agreed to my society, because politeness did not permit her to do otherwise. I treated her with a certain good-humored courtesy that seemed to irritate her not a little.

We arrived at last on the Mokotoffskie Pola. There was a reserved place near the grand stand for my aunt's carriage, and presently various acquaintances with tickets stuck on their hats came up and congratulated her upon the promising appearance of Naughty Boy. One of the greatest horsebreeders said to her that the horse was a splendid animal, though not sufficiently trained; but as the turf was soft from yesterday's rain, a strong animal like Naughty Boy stood a fair chance of coming in a winner.

It seemed to me that he spoke a little ironically, which made me feel uneasy. Naughty Boy's defeat would spoil the day for my aunt, and indirectly for me, too, as her bad humor would damp our pleasure. In the mean while I looked around me at the field, and searched for known faces. The race course was thronged with people. The grand stand looked like a dark, compact ma.s.s, relieved by bright female toilets.

The course was surrounded by rows after rows of spectators; even the town walls were alive with them. On either side of the grand stand stood a long line of carriages; each separately looked like a flower-basket. Not very far from where I stood I became suddenly aware of a pink face and aggressive little nose that could not belong to anybody but Pani Sniatynska. I went up to her and she told me her husband had just left her to look for Miss Hilst; and then, almost in one breath, asked me how my aunt was, whether Aniela was at the races, how the ladies would manage their journey to Gastein since Pani Celina could not walk, whether I thought Naughty Boy would win the race, and what we would do if he lost, and how many people had I invited to dinner. While standing near her carriage I noticed what a sweet expression her face has, and the pretty foot that peeped forth from the carriage; but as to answering all the questions, I should have to borrow Gargantua's mouth, as Shakspeare says. Replying to one or two of the questions and saying I hoped to see her after the races, I followed Sniatynski's track in search of Clara. I found her carriage not far from my aunt's. Clara looked like a hill covered with heliotrope blossoms. I found her surrounded by a host of admirers and artists, conversing gayly with them. Her face clouded when she saw me, and my reception was of the coolest. A friendly word from me would have changed all that, but I remained cold; after a quarter of an hour's polite and ceremonious conversation, I went farther, exchanging here and there a few words with people I knew, and then turned toward our own carriage. The first two races had taken place, and Naughty Boy's turn came at last.

I looked at my aunt; the expression of her face was very solemn; she evidently tried her best to keep cool. On the contrary, Aniela's face showed evident uneasiness. We had to wait some time before the horses came out, because the weighing lasted unusually long. Suddenly Sniatynski came running up, gesticulating with both hands, and showing some bits of paper.

"I have put a pot of money on Naughty Boy," he exclaimed; "if he betrays me, I shall have to throw myself upon your well-known charity."

"I trust--" began my aunt, with all her dignity.

But she did not finish her sentence, as at this moment from amid the dark ma.s.s of people there rose the varicolored caps and silks of the jockeys. The horses were slowly trotting along. Some of them, finding themselves in the open, quickened their pace; others followed more leisurely. At the start they pa.s.sed us in a group and not very fast, so as to save their horses' strength, the race being a double one. But at the second turn they were drawn out in a line. It looked as if the wind had scattered the petals of some flowers along the road. The first was a jockey in white, closely followed by another in pale blue and red, then two together, one in red, the other in red and yellow; our Kuba in orange and black was last but one, followed by a jockey in white and blue. This order did not last long. When the horses had reached the other side of the course, there arose some commotion in the carriages. The more excited ladies climbed up on the seats so as not to lose the least part of the race; their example was followed by my aunt, who evidently could not sit still any longer.

Aniela offered her place to Panna Zawilowska, who, after some ceremonious protests, accepted it; and I helped Aniela to the back seat, and, as she had nothing to hold on by, offered her my hand. I confess that I did not think of the race so much as of the dear little hand that rested so trustingly in mine.

My aunt's back obscured the view a little; but raising myself on tiptoe, I swept the whole field with my eyes, and saw the jockeys drawing near the curve of the other side. Seen from this distance, they looked like bright-colored beetles flying through the air; the motion appeared slow, and the throwing out of the horses' fore and hind legs almost mechanical. But in spite of the apparent slowness, they cleared the ground very swiftly.

The order of the riders was changed again. The white was still leading, followed by the red; but our Kuba was third now. The others remained behind, and the distance between them grew wider every moment. Naughty Boy was evidently not the worst among them. For a moment I lost sight of him, and presently saw him again as they pa.s.sed us. The red was close upon the white, and Kuba gaining ground. I now observed for the first time that the white would have no chance, as the horse's flanks shone with moisture, as if water had been poured over him. It was clear the race would lie between the red and orange and black. At the worst, Naughty Boy would be second, and the defeat not so complete. What inspired me with confidence was the horse's pace; he threw out his legs so evenly, as if he performed a daily task. The spectators' excitement became greater every moment.

"Has Naughty Boy lost?" asked Aniela, in a low, excited voice, seeing the order in which the horses came past the stand.

"No, dear; they have still another round," I replied, pressing her hand slightly. She did not withdraw her hand; it is true that her whole attention was absorbed in the race. When the horses came to the other side, Kuba was second, the white was so exhausted that he had to fall back, and the three following riders came up to him. It was now a race between the two, and there were only five or six lengths between them. Suddenly a loud murmur from the stand told us that something unusual had happened; Kuba was coming up to his adversary. The murmurs on the stand grew into a tumult. Aniela was so carried away by excitement that she squeezed my hand nervously, and asked every moment, "What are they doing now?" The riders were on the left side of the field. The red, by the help of his whip, had gained a little; but presently Naughty Boy almost touched him with his nose. In this furious pace they came both on a line with the stand, where we lost sight of them again. The struggle would be over now in a few seconds.

On the stand there was a momentary silence, which suddenly changed into loud, prolonged cheering. Many people were running along the lines which hide the road, and at this moment we saw the red nostrils; the horse's head, stretched out like a cord, orange and black, was carried along as if by a hurricane. The bell rang on the grand stand,--the victory was ours.

The red had lost by a dozen lengths.

I must say for my aunt that she never lost her self-possession. n.o.body but me noticed the few drops of perspiration which stood on her forehead; she fanned with her pocket-handkerchief. Aniela was excited, amused, and happy. We both congratulated our aunt; even Panna Zawilowska said a few French sentences, stiff and proper, as if taken from a copy-book. Presently a crowd of acquaintances thronged around our carriage, and my aunt's triumph was complete.

I was also intoxicated, but by something quite different; namely, the pressure of Aniela's hand. In vain I said to myself that it was nothing but the excitement of the moment; because it occurred to me that a woman's resistance often pa.s.ses a crisis in such moments of exaltation, when carried beside herself by some amus.e.m.e.nt, beautiful view, or other circ.u.mstance different from the even tenor of every-day life. Then a certain relaxation of the nerves takes place, in presence of which a loss of the usual balance is easily explained. Taking into account this special state of Aniela's mind, I arrived at the conclusion that she did not fight against her feeling any longer; and I resolved to put an end to it.

I suppose at Ploszow there will be no difficulty about a chance. We go back to-morrow. To-day's entertainment, the dinner, the conversation, and the excitement are so many drops of narcotic. She does not even suppose what happiness there is in store for us; but she must surrender her soul to me, wholly and unconditionally.

Though my aunt had notified Pani Celina that we might remain at Warsaw until the next day, we really intended going back after dinner,--when something occurred that prevented our starting. Dinner and tea afterwards lasted until ten o'clock. When the last of our guests had departed somebody came to tell my aunt that Naughty Boy had been taken ill. There was a great confusion. The vet was sent for in a hurry, but it was midnight before he arrived. My aunt would not think of going so late as that.

Aniela wanted to go very much, but knew I would have to go with her; and she is still afraid of me. My aunt told her she would only rouse the whole house, disturbing thereby her mother, and wound up by saying:--

"Leon does not mind my looking at his house as my own; consequently you are my guest. It would be the same if I gave up Ploszow to him; I should live there, and you with me,--at least, so long as Celina has not recovered her health."

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About Without Dogma Part 24 novel

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