The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [259]
‘I did the same,’ Wokulski exclaimed in a stifled voice.
‘You married for money?’ asked the widow, opening her eyes wide.
‘Not for money, but to obtain work and not starve to death. I know well that law of which Mr Starski speaks.’
‘And so?’ put in Starski, looking at his grandmother.
‘And because I know it, I pity those who must comply with it,’ concluded Wokulski. ‘It must be the greatest unhappiness in life.’
‘You are right,’ said the Duchess.
‘You begin to interest me, Mr Wokulski,’ added Mrs Wąsowska, stretching out her hand to him.
During the entire conversation, Ewelina had been concentrating on her embroidery. At this moment she raised her eyes and glanced at Starski with such a look of despair that Wokulski was startled … But Starski continued tapping his boot with the riding-crop, biting a cigar and smiling half-mockingly, half-sadly.
The voice of Ochocki was heard behind the summer-house: ‘Look, I told that Mrs …’
‘Well, that’s in the summer-house, not in the undergrowth,’ replied a young girl with a basket in her hand.
‘You’re absurd,’ Ochocki muttered, entering and looking uneasily at the ladies.
‘Aha, the conquering hero comes,’ said the widow.
‘I give you my word, I came through the undergrowth merely to get here more quickly,’ Ochocki explained.
‘You drove off the road, just as you did with us, today …’
‘On my word …’
‘Better take me back, instead of explaining,’ the Duchess interrupted.
Ochocki gave her his arm, but his expression was so embarrassed and his hat so awry that Mrs Wąsowska could not control her merriment, which brought another series of blushes to Felicja’s face, and made Ochocki dart several angry looks at the widow.
The entire company moved to the left down a side alley to the farm. First went the Duchess and Ochocki, then the girl with the basket, then the widow and Felicja, followed by Ewelina and Starski. At the gate, the noise in front increased, but at this moment Wokulski seemed to hear a quiet conversation behind him: ‘Sometimes I’d sooner be dead …’ whispered Miss Ewelina.
‘Be brave … be brave,’ Starski replied in the same way.
Only now did Wokulski understand the purpose of the walk to the farm, as a whole crowd of hens ran across the yard to the Duchess and she threw grain to them from the basket. Old Mateuszowa, their keeper, appeared behind the hens to tell her mistress all was well, although a falcon had been flying over the yard since morning, and one of the hens had choked on a pebble that afternoon, but recovered.
After a survey of the poultry, the Duchess inspected the barns and stables, where the labourers — mostly elderly people — made their reports to her. An accident almost occurred. Suddenly, a large colt ran out of the stable and jumped up at the Duchess, like a dog standing on its hind legs. Fortunately Ochocki stopped the mischievous animal, and the Duchess gave the colt its usual portion of sugar.
‘It will do you an injury one day, grandmama,’ said Starski, displeased, ‘who ever heard of caressing colts which will be horses one day?’
‘You always talk too sensibly,’ the Duchess replied, stroking the colt, which put its head on her shoulder and later ran after her, so the labourers had to take it back to the stable. Even some cows recognised their mistress, and greeted her with a stifled mooing, not unlike muttering.
‘A strange woman,’ Wokulski thought, looking at the old lady who knew how to arouse affection in animals, and even in human beings.
After supper, the Duchess went to bed, and Mrs Wąsowska proposed a stroll in the park. The Baron agreed, though reluctantly: he put on a thick top-coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and walked ahead with his fiancée, taking her by the arm. No one knew what they were talking about, but they saw she was very pale, and he had livid patches on his cheeks.
Towards eleven, all separated and the Baron, coughing, accompanied Wokulski to his room: ‘Well, sir, have you taken a good look at my fiancée? How beautiful she