The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [136]
Izabela hated Krzeszowski. Once he had flirted with her: then rejected, had taken his revenge. She knew he called her an ageing spinster, who would marry her own footman. This was something to remember for the rest of her life. But the Baron had gone still further than this unlucky phrase, and had even behaved cynically in her presence, mocking her elderly admirers and dropping hints about her ruined estate. And because Izabela had reluctantly felt obliged to refer to his middle-class wife, whom he had married for money though he never managed to get any out of her, a regular and even fierce battle was in progress between them.
The day of the races was a triumph for Izabela, and one of defeat and humiliation for the Baron. Admittedly he had driven up to the course and pretended to be very gay: but he was fuming inwardly. When he saw Wokulski hand the prize and the money for the horse to Izabela, he had lost control of himself, run over to the carriage and made a scene.
The impudent look of the Baron and his openly calling Wokulski her ‘admirer’ was a terrible blow to Izabela. She would have killed the Baron on the spot, if that had been a proper thing for a well-bred woman to do. Her suffering was all the worse because the Countess had listened to his outburst quite calmly, the Duchess with embarrassment, and her father had not even spoken, for he had long regarded Krzeszowski as a lunatic who should not be provoked but treated mildly.
It was at a time like this (when people had started glancing at them from the other carriages) that Wokulski had come to the aid of Izabela. Not only did he interrupt the flow of the Baron’s resentment, but had also challenged him to a duel. No one doubted this: the Duchess was quite alarmed for her favourite, but the Countess pointed out that Wokulski could not have done anything else, because when the Baron approached the carriage, he had pushed him and not apologised.
‘But just tell me,’ said the Duchess in dismay, ‘whether it is right to fight a duel over such a trifle. After all, everyone knows that Krzeszowski is absent-minded and a fool. The best proof of that is what he himself said to us…’
‘I agree,’ Tomasz exclaimed, ‘but after all Wokulski was not to know that, his attention had to be drawn to it.’
‘They’ll be reconciled,’ the Countess put in carelessly, and gave the order to drive home.
It was then that Izabela committed the worst infringement of her own notions of decorum, and pressed Wokulski’s hand in a significant manner. Even before they reached the corner she knew that it had been unforgivable. ‘How was it possible to do such a thing? What will a man like that think?’ she asked herself. But then the sense of justice awoke within her, and she had to admit that this man was not just anybody. ‘To give me pleasure (for he certainly had no other reason), he had tripped up the Baron by buying his mare. He had given all the prize money (a proof of disinterestedness) to charity, and through me (the Baron saw that). Above all, he challenged him to a duel as if he had guessed my thoughts. Well, duels nowadays usually finish with champagne: but all the same, the Baron will find out I am not yet an old…Yes, there’s something about this Wokulski…It’s a great pity he’s a haberdashery salesman. It would be pleasant to have such an admirer, if…if he had a different position in society.’
On returning home, Izabela told Flora of the incidents at the races, and had forgotten them within the hour. However, when her father reported later that night that Krzeszowski had chosen as his second Count Liciński, and that the latter was unconditionally demanding that the Baron apologise to Wokulski, Izabela made a contemptuous pout: ‘Fortunate man,’ she thought, ‘they insult me, but are to apologize to him. If anyone insulted my beloved in my presence, I would not accept an apology. He will, of course.’
When she had gone to bed