The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [37]
‘From the Countess,’ he said.
‘For you, Bela,’ added Tomasz taking the letter. ‘Allow me to swallow this new pill for you.’
And he opened the letter, began reading it, then said with a smile: ‘Here you have Countess Karolowa all over! Nerves, nerves …’
Izabela pushed her plate aside and uneasily glanced through the letter. But her face gradually cleared.
‘Listen, Flora,’ she said, ‘this is interesting.’
My dear Bela (my aunt writes) forget my previous letter, my angel. After all, your dinner-service is of no concern to me, and we will find you another when you get married. But I am most anxious that you should attend the Easter collection with me and no one else, and that was really what I meant to write about in my previous note, not about the dinner-service. My wretched nerves! If you do not want to upset me entirely, you must accept my invitation. The arrangements in our church will be quite splendid. My good, honest Wokulski is giving us a fountain, artificial singing-birds, music boxes that play solemn music and a number of fine carpets. Hozer will supply the flowers, and some amateurs are arranging a concert for the organ, violins, cellos and soloists. I am so pleased, but if you were absent amidst these wonders, I should be quite ill. So what is your reply to be?
Affectionately, and with a thousand hugs and kisses,
Joanna.
Post scriptum. Tomorrow we will visit the stores and order a spring outfit for you. I shall die if you do not accept.
Izabela was radiant. The letter fulfilled all her hopes.
‘Wokulski is incomparable!’ said Tomasz, smiling. ‘He has won her over and she will not only recognise him as my partner but even fight me for him.’
Mikołaj was serving the chicken.
‘He really must be something of a genius,’ Flora observed.
‘Wokulski? Well, no,’ said Tomasz. ‘He’s a man of tremendous energy, but as for the gift of foresight—no, I would not say he has that in any very high degree.’
‘Yet he is proving it.’
‘These things are nothing but proof of his energy,’ Tomasz replied. ‘The gift of foresight, of working out brilliant ideas can be seen in other fields, such as … gambling. I often play whist with him, where foresight is essential. The result is that I would lose from eight to ten roubles, but win about seventeen, although I lay no claim to genius,’ he added modestly.
Izabela dropped her fork. She turned pale and put one hand to her temples, whispering:
‘Oh … oh! …’
Her father and Flora rose from their places.
‘What is it, Bela?’ asked Tomasz anxiously.
‘Nothing,’ she replied, also rising. ‘Migraine. I felt it coming on … It is nothing, papa.’
She kissed her father and went to her boudoir.
‘A sudden attack of migraine should pass very soon,’ said Tomasz. ‘Go to her, Flora. I must go out for a while, but will be home early. In the meantime, look after her, my dear Flora, I beg you,’ said Tomasz with the tranquil air of a man whose instructions can set all the world to rights.
‘I’ll go to her when I have tidied up here,’ replied Flora, to whom order in the household was a more important matter than anyone’s migraine.
Already night had fallen … Izabela was alone in her boudoir again; she reclined on the chaise-longue and covered her face with both hands. Her tiny slippers and a fragment of stocking appeared beneath the cascade of fabrics she wore, but no one saw and she did not think of it. At this moment her soul was again torn with anger, remorse and shame. Her aunt had invited her, she would attend the Easter collection in the smartest church in Warsaw and would wear the finest toilette; but she was unhappy … She felt as if she had entered a crowded drawing-room and suddenly noticed a great greasy stain of hideous shape and colour on her new gown, as though it had been soiled on some kitchen stairs. The thought was so hateful that her mouth filled with a bad taste.
What a terrible position, to be sure! For a month they had