The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [299]
I cannot describe how sad I felt to hear such a dramatic account of merely looking out of windows … The pupils of Mrs Stawska, having finished their lessons, were setting off home, and their charming teacher made me happy with her appearance. When I greeted her, she had cold hands and an expression of weariness and sorrow on her heavenly face. On seeing me, however, she deigned to smile (dear angel! It was as though she guessed that her sweet smile illuminates for me the darkness of life for an entire week).
‘Mama, did you tell Mr Rzecki,’ said Mrs Stawska, ‘of the honour we had today?’
‘Ah no, I forgot,’ Mrs Misiewicz interposed.
Meanwhile, the two young ladies had gone, after curtsying, and we remained alone, so it was quite like a family circle. ‘Just think,’ said Mrs Stawska, ‘we had a visit from the Baroness today! At first I was almost frightened because she, poor thing, hasn’t a very attractive look, so pale, always in black, and she has a sort of expression, too … But she disarmed me in a moment when, on seeing Helena, she burst into tears and fell on her knees before me, crying: “My poor little child was just like her, and now’s she’s dead!” …’
I turned cold all over on hearing this. However, not wanting to alarm Mrs Stawska perhaps for no reason, I dared not speak to her of my forebodings. I merely asked: ‘What did she want?’
‘She came to ask me to help her set in order her linen, dresses, lace — in a word, all her household goods. She expects her husband to return to her soon, and she wants to freshen up some little trifles, and to buy others. And as she says she has no taste, she asked me to help, and promised to pay me two roubles for three hours a day.’
‘What did you say to that?’
‘Goodness, what could I say? Of course I accepted gratefully. Admittedly, it is only temporary work, but very convenient, for only yesterday (I don’t know why), I lost one music lesson, at five złoty an hour …’
I sighed, guessing that the cause of the loss might be an anonymous letter, in the writing of which Baroness Krzeszowska had great fluency. But — I said nothing. For how could I advise Mrs Stawska to decline two roubles a day?
Oh dear, Staś, Staś! Why shouldn’t you marry her? Miss Łęcka has got into your head. I only hope you don’t regret it.
From then on, whenever I called on my respected lady friends, Mrs Stawska would tell me in the greatest detail the story of her relations with Baroness Krzeszowska, whose apartment she frequented every day, and naturally worked six hours instead of three, for the same two roubles. Mrs Stawska is a very mild-tempered lady, nevertheless, as I could see from her implied expressions both the Baroness’s apartment and her entire environment astounded and appalled Mrs Stawska. First, the Baroness makes no use of her large apartment. The drawing-room, boudoir, bedroom, dining room, the Baron’s room — all are empty. The furniture and mirrors are covered up; the plants which once bloomed are only dusty sticks today, or vases full of dried earth; dust on the costly tapestries. God knows what she eats, sometimes she doesn’t take a bite of anything hot for days on end, and she only keeps one servant in that great apartment, and treats her like a wanton and a criminal. When Mrs Stawska asked her whether she wasn’t unhappy living in that emptiness, she replied: ‘What am I to do, bereaved orphan and almost widow that I am? Unless the good Lord inspires my wicked husband to repent his wicked deeds and come back to me, only then will my hermit-like existence change. But as far as I can make out from the dreams and premonitions which Heaven sends me during my fervent prayers, my husband ought to return any day, for he has no money and no credit, that unfortunate, unhappy madman …’
Hearing this, Mrs Stawska made the private comment that the Baron’s fate, after repentance, might not be enviable.
The persons who call on the Baroness did not arouse Mrs Stawska’s confidence, either. Often, old ladies of disagreeable aspect visit her, with whom she talks of her husband in an undertone