The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [285]
‘Is it to be so?’ he asked, taking her hand.
She did not utter a word.
‘Then I will stay,’ he said after a moment, ‘I’ll be patient, and you yourself will give me the signal that my hopes have been fulfilled.’
They went back to the palace. Izabela was somewhat altered, but she talked gaily to everyone. Tranquillity came back to Wokulski. He was no longer desperate because Izabela was leaving, he told himself he would see her in a month, and that sufficed for him at present. After luncheon, the carriage drove up: the departures began. In the porch Izabela whispered to Mrs Wąsowska: ‘Perhaps, Kazia, you won’t tease that poor man?’
‘Whom do you mean?’
‘Your namesake.’
‘Ah, Starski… We’ll see.’
Izabela gave Wokulski her hand. ‘Until we meet again,’ she murmured, with emphasis.
She drove away. The entire company stood in the porch watching the carriage which moved off around the lake, disappeared behind a hillock and reappeared, until finally only a cloud of yellow dust was left.
‘A very fine day,’ said Wokulski.
‘Yes, indeed,’ Starski replied.
Mrs Wąsowska was eyeing Wokulski with lowered lashes.
They all separated slowly. Wokulski remained alone. He went to his room, but it seemed very empty: then he wanted to stroll in the park, but something kept him away … He thought Izabela must be still in the house, and could not for the life of him grasp that she had left, that she was already a mile away from Zasławek, and that each second was taking her further away from him. ‘She has gone, after all,’ he thought, ‘she has gone — but what of it?’
He went to the lake and gazed at the white boat around which the water was gleaming, until his eyes ached. Suddenly one of the swans swimming along the opposite bank caught sight of him, and flew with a fluttering of wings to the punt. And at this moment Wokulski was seized with such vast, limitless unhappiness, as though he were on the point of quitting life itself …
Plunged in his own bitter thoughts, Wokulski hardly noticed what was going on around him. Nevertheless, towards evening, he observed that the whole company at Zasławek, after coming in from the park, was peevish. Felicja shut herself up with Ewelina in her room, the Baron was irritable and Starski ironical and impudent.
After dinner the Duchess summoned Wokulski. Signs of vexation were also apparent in the old lady, though she tried to hide them. ‘Have you been thinking at all, Mr Stanisław, of the sugar-factory?’ she asked, sniffing a little flask — always a sign of emotion. ‘Think of it, pray, and talk to me, for all this gossip has upset me.’
‘Are you worried?’ asked Wokulski.
She made a gesture: ‘Ah, worry … All I want is for this marriage between Ewelina and the Baron to take place, or be broken off. Either let them both go away, or Starski … It’s all the same.’
Wokulski lowered his gaze and was silent, guessing that Starski’s flirtation with the Baron’s fiancée must have taken on a still more obvious form. But what concern was that to him?
‘These young girls are silly creatures,’ the Duchess began after a moment, ‘they think that when one of them catches a rich husband and a handsome lover as well, then she will fill up her life. Silly creatures! They don’t realise that soon the old husband and the empty lover will grow hateful, and that sooner or later she’ll want to meet a genuine man. And if one comes along, to her misfortune, what can she give him? The charms she’s sold, or a heart defiled by such as Starski?
‘And to think that almost every one of them must go through such a school before she gets to understand people! Earlier, even if she meets the noblest of men, she