The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [64]
‘What conventions do they safeguard themselves with, then?’ he thought. ‘Oh—if only I could overthrow all this…’
And for ten seconds or so he saw that between himself and this respectable world of elegant conventions a struggle must ensue in which either this world must collapse—or he perish. ‘All right—let me perish…but I’ll leave behind a memory of myself…’
‘You will leave behind forgiveness and mercy,’ a voice whispered to him.
‘Am I then—so vile?’
‘No, you are noble.’
He pulled himself together—before him stood Mr Tomasz Łęcki. ‘How are you, Stanisław,’ he said majestically, ‘I welcome you even more warmly since your arrival is linked with a very agreeable event in our family…’
‘Can Izabela have become engaged?’ Wokulski thought, and there was a blackness before his eyes.
‘Imagine, my dear sir, that on the occasion of your visit… Are you listening, Stanisław?… On the occasion of your call I have reached agreement with my sister Joanna… But you turn pale?… Come, you will find many acquaintances here. Pray do not suppose the aristocracy is quite so alarming…’
Wokulski pulled himself together: ‘Mr Łęcki,’ he said, coldly, ‘in my tent near Plevna even greater gentlefolk used to visit me. And they were so agreeable towards me that I do not easily become excited at the sight of such gentry as…one meets in Warsaw.’
‘Upon my word…’ Mr Łęcki murmured and bowed.
Wokulski was taken aback: ‘There’s a flunkey for you,’ went through his head, ‘And I…I was apprehensive of such people as this?’
Mr Łęcki took him by the arm and conducted him in a very ceremonial manner into the first drawing-room, where there were only men.
‘You see, my dear sir—the Count…’ Tomasz began.
‘I know him,’ Wokulski said, adding inwardly, ‘He owes me some three hundred roubles…’
‘The banker…’ Tomasz then explained. But before he could utter the banker’s name, the banker himself came up, saluted Wokulski and said: ‘Upon my word, there’s a great deal of excitement in Paris about those boulevards. Have you replied?’
‘I wanted to speak to you first,’ Wokulski replied.
‘Let us meet somewhere, then. When are you at home?’
‘I have no fixed time, and would prefer to come to your house.’
‘Pray call on me next Wednesday, then, for lunch, and we will finish with the matter once and for all.’
They said goodbye. Tomasz pressed Wokulski’s arm more warmly: ‘The general…’ he began. Seeing Wokulski, the general shook him by the hand and they greeted one another like old acquaintances.
Tomasz became increasingly affectionate toward Wokulski and began to be surprised, seeing that this tradesman knew so many of the most eminent persons in town, and not only those distinguished by unearned titles and fortunes.
When they went into the second drawing-room, where there were a number of ladies, the Countess Karolowa came over to them. Józef, the butler, was hovering in the background.
‘They have set up a sentry,’ Wokulski thought, ‘so as not to compromise the nouveau riche tradesman. Considerate of them, but…’
‘I am so pleased, Mr Wokulski,’ said the Countess, taking him over from Tomasz, ‘so pleased that you have done as I asked. There is someone here who wishes to make your acquaintance.’
The appearance of Wokulski had caused something of a sensation in the first drawing-room: ‘General,’ said the Count, ‘Countess Karolowa is beginning to introduce us to tradespeople. This Wokulski…’
‘Is as much a tradesman as you or I,’ the general replied.
‘Prince,’ said another Count, ‘how on earth did that Wokulski get invited here?’
‘Our hostess invited him,’ the Prince retorted.
‘I have no prejudice against tradespeople,’ the Count went on, ‘but Wokulski has been involved in military supplies and made a fortune…’
‘Yes, yes…’ the Prince interrupted. ‘That sort of fortune is usually suspect, but I can vouch for Wokulski. The Countess spoke to me of him, and I have asked officers who served in the war, including my own nephew. The general opinion is that the supplies Wokulski was concerned with were honest. Even the men, when