The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [138]
She did not fall asleep till seven in the morning, then slept like a log till noon. Then she was awakened by an excited tapping at her bedroom door. ‘Who is it?’
‘It is I,’ her father replied joyfully, ‘Wokulski is unharmed, the Baron wounded in the face.’
‘Is that so?’
She had a migraine, and stayed in bed till four in the afternoon. She was pleased the Baron had been wounded, and surprised that Wokulski, whom she had mourned, was not dead. As she had risen so late, Izabela went out for a short stroll in the Boulevard before dinner. The sight of the clear sky, the beautiful trees, the birds flying about and the cheerful passers-by erased all traces of her nocturnal visions, and when she was noticed and greeted from several passing carriages, satisfaction awoke within her.
‘God is merciful, all the same,’ she thought, ‘since He has spared a man who may be useful to us. My father counts on him so, and I, too, am gaining confidence in him. I’d have experienced far fewer disappointments in my life if I’d had a sensible and energetic friend…’
She did not care for the word ‘friend’, though. A ‘friend’ of Izabela’s would have to own an estate at least. A haberdashery salesman only qualified as adviser and administrator.
On returning home, she saw at once that her father was in an excellent humour. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I went to congratulate Wokulski. He’s a splendid fellow, a real gentleman! He has forgotten the duel already, and even seems sorry for the Baron. No two ways about it—genteel blood always tells, no matter what a man’s social position.’
Then, taking his daughter into his study, and glancing several times into the looking-glass, he added: ‘Now, who said one cannot trust in heavenly protection? The death of this man would have been a serious blow to me—and he has been spared! I must enter into closer contact with him, then we shall see who comes out best—the Prince with his great lawyer, or I with my Wokulski. What do you think?’
‘I was thinking the very same thing just now,’ Izabela replied, struck by the analogy between her own feelings and those of her father, ‘you really must have a capable and trustworthy man at your side.’
‘And one who is in addition attracted to my service,’ Tomasz added, ‘and a sharp man! He understands that he will do more and gain a better reputation by helping an ancient family to rise again than if he were to rush ahead by himself. A very intelligent man,’ Tomasz repeated, ‘and although he had temporarily acquired the support of the Prince and the entire aristocracy, he is showing greater attachment to me. And he will not regret it, once I regain my position in the world.’
Izabela gazed at the gee-gaws arranged on his desk and thought that her father was deluding himself all the same in thinking that Wokulski was attracted into his service. However, she did not correct his error, but on the contrary admitted privately that it would be quite proper to draw a little closer to this tradesman and overlook his social position. A lawyer…a merchant…it came to almost the same thing; and if a lawyer could have a prince’s confidence, then why should not a tradesman (oh, how vulgar!) become a man of confidence in the Łęcki household?
Dinner that evening, and the next few days too, passed very pleasantly for Izabela. She was struck by one circumstance, namely—that they were visited by more people during this short time than had called during a whole month. There were hours when the sound of laughter and conversation resounded in the formerly empty drawing-room, until the well-rested furniture itself was surprised by the throng, and in the kitchen it was whispered that Mr Łęcki must have laid his hands on a large sum of money. Even the ladies who had failed to recognise Izabela at the races, now called on her. As for the young men, although they did not call, they recognised her in the street, and bowed respectfully.
Tomasz had visitors too. Count Sanocki called, to urge that Wokulski stop attending race-meetings and playing at duels,