The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [356]
‘Poor fellow,’ she said, laughing, ‘the Duchess only left him two thousand a year, and ten thousand in cash. I advised him to make a good he prefers to go to Vienna, and thence very likely to Monte Carlo…I told him to travel with us. It will be gayer, don’t you think?’
‘Of course,’ Wokulski replied, ‘especially as we shall have a private compartment.’
‘Until tomorrow, then!’
Wokulski settled his most urgent business, reserved a drawing-room compartment to Cracow, and at about eight in the evening, having sent on his things, called at the Łęckis. The three of them had tea together, and set off for the railroad station just before ten.
‘Where can Mr Starski be?’ Wokulski inquired.
‘Goodness knows,’ Izabela replied, ‘perhaps he won’t come at all.…He’s so changeable.’
They got into the carriage, but Starski was still not there. Izabela bit her lip, glancing out of the window now and then. Finally, when the second bell had rung, Starski appeared on the platform. ‘Here we are!’ cried Izabela. But as the young man didn’t hear her, Wokulski hurried out and brought him into the compartment. ‘I thought you were never coming!’ said Izabela.
‘I very nearly didn’t,’ Starski replied, greeting Tomasz, ‘I was at Krzeszowski’s, and just think, ma cousine, that we played cards from noon to nine.’
‘You lost, of course.’
‘Of course…Good luck deserts such as I,’ he added, glancing at her. Izabela blushed slightly.
The train started to move. Starski sat down at Izabela’s left, and began talking to her, half in Polish, half in English, gradually more and more in English. Wokulski sat to the right of Izabela, but as he didn’t want to interrupt the conversation he rose and sat down by Tomasz.
Mr Łęcki, rather poorly, put on a plaid overcoat and pulled a blanket over his knees. He ordered all the windows to be shut, and the lamps, which bothered him, shaded. He promised himself he would go to sleep, and even felt sleep coming upon him. In the meanwhile, he entered into conversation with Wokulski, and began expatiating on his sister Hortensja who had been so attached to him when young, on the court of Napoleon III who had spoken to him several times, on the politeness and the love affairs of Victor Emmanuel, and innumerable other topics.
Wokulski listened attentively as far as Pruszków. After Pruszków, the weary and monotonous voice of Tomasz began to tire him. On the other hand, Izabela’s conversation in English with Starski kept coming to his ears with increasing clarity. He even caught a few sentences which interested him and he asked himself if he should not warn them that he understood English?
He was just about to rise from his seat, when he happened to glance at the window at the opposite side of the carriage and in it saw, as if in a mirror, the faint reflection of Izabela and Starski. They were sitting very close together, both were flushed, although they were talking in a light manner, as though of insignificant things. But Wokulski noticed that the indifferent tone did not correspond to the content of their talk: he even sensed that they wanted to deceive someone by this light tone. And at this moment, for the first time since he’d known Izabela, the terrible word ‘Cheat!…Cheat!…’ flew through his mind. He leaned back against the wall of the compartment, looked in the glass—and listened. It seemed to him that each word Starski and Izabela uttered was falling like drops of leaden rain upon his face, head and chest. He had no thought of warning them that he could understand what they were saying, just listened—and listened.
The train was passing through Radziwiłlów, and the first phrase which caught Wokulski’s attention was: ‘You may reproach him with anything,’ Izabela was saying, in English, ‘he’s not young or distinguished; he’s far too sentimental, and sometimes a bore—but avaricious? Suffice it to say that even papa calls him over-generous.’
‘And that business with Mr K.?’ Starski interposed.
‘About the race-horse? One can see you’re just up from the provinces. The Baron called on us lately, and said that