But spring was coming really, and, besides, it was as warm as it was early. Pan Stanislav, at the end of March and the beginning of April, began again to make journeys, and sometimes to spend a number of days away from home. He and Bigiel were so busied that often they remained in the counting-house till late in the evening. Pani Bigiel supposed that they must be undertaking something large; but it astonished her that her husband, who always spoke with her about his business, and almost thought aloud in her presence, and even frequently took counsel with her, was as silent now as if spell-bound. Marynia noticed also that “Stas” had his head filled with something in an unusual manner. He was more tender toward her than ever; but it seemed to her that in that tenderness of his, as well as in every conversation and every petting, there was some third thing, another thought, which occupied him so thoroughly that lie could not keep away from it even a moment. And this state of distraction increased daily till the beginning of May, when it passed into something feverish. Marynia began to hesitate whether to ask or not, what the matter was. She was a little afraid to intrude; but for her it was important also that he should not think that his affairs concerned her too little. In this uncertainty, she determined to wait for a favorable moment, hoping that he himself would begin to touch on his business, even remotely.

In fact, it seemed to her, on a certain day soon after, that the opportune moment had come. Pan Stanislav returned from the counting-house earlier than usual, and with a face in some way wonderfully radiant, though serious, so that, looking him in the eyes, she asked, almost mechanically,—

“Something favorable must have happened, Stas?”

He sat near hers and instead of answering directly, began to talk with a voice which was strange in some sort,—

“See how calm and warm. The windows might be opened now. Dost thou know what I’ve been thinking of these last days? That for thy health and Stas’s we ought to go soon from the city.”

“But is not Buchynek rented?” asked Marynia.

“Buchynek is sold,” answered he. Then, taking both her hands and looking into her eyes with immense affection, he said,—

“Listen, my dear, I have something to tell thee, and something which ought to please thee; but promise not to be excited too much.”

“Well, what is it, Stas?”

“Seest thou, my little one? Mashko fled to foreign parts; for he had more debts than property. His creditors threw themselves on everything which was left after him, so as to recover even something. Everything went into liquidation. Magyerovka has been parcelled, and is lost; but Kremen, Skoki, and Suhotsin could be saved. Do not grow excited, my love; I have bought them for thee.”

Marynia looked at him some time, blinking, and as if not believing her ears. But no! He was so moved himself that he could not jest. Her eyes were darkened with tears, and all at once she threw both arms around his neck.

“Stas!”

And at that moment she could not find other words; but in this one exclamation there were thanks and great love, and a woman’s homage for the efficiency of that man who had been able to do everything. Pan Stanislav understood this; and in the feeling of that immense happiness which he had not known hitherto, he began to speak, holding her still at his breast,—

“I knew that this would comfort thee, and God knows there is no greater pleasure for me than thy delight. I remembered that thou wert sorry for Kremen, that that was an injustice to thee, and that it was possible to correct it; therefore I corrected it. But that is nothing! If I had bought ten such Kremens for thee, I should not have repaid thee for the good which thou hast done me, and still I should not be worthy of thee.”

And he spoke sincerely; but Marynia removed her head from his shoulder, and, raising on him her eyes, which were at once moist and bright, said,—

“It is I, Stas, that am not worthy of thee; and I did not even hope to be so happy.”

Then they began to dispute who was the more worthy; but in that dispute there were frequent intervals of silence, for Marynia, every moment embracing him, pushed up to him her mouth, beautiful, though a little too wide, and kissed him; and then he kissed in turn her eyes and her hands. For a long time yet she wanted now to cry, now to laugh from delight; for really her happiness surpassed everything which she had ever hoped for. Her mother had written once, with a weakening hand, “One should not marry to be happy, but to fulfil the duties which God imposes; happiness is only an addition and a gift of God.” Meanwhile this addition was now too great to find place in her heart. There had been trials, there had been moments of grief to her, and even of doubt; but all had passed, and at last that “Stas” not only loved her as the sight of his eye, but he had done more than he had ever promised.

And at that moment, while walking with long strides through the room, still excited, but pleased with himself, and with an expression of complete boastfulness on his dark, challenging face, he said,—

“Well, Marys[16]! Now for the first time will work begin, will it not? For I haven’t the least idea of country life and that will be thy affair. But I think that I shall not be the worst of managers. We shall both work, for that Kremen is a big undertaking.”

“My golden Stas,” answered she, clasping her hands, “I know that thou hast done that for me; but will it not injure thee in business?”

“In business? It is thy idea, perhaps, that I let myself be stripped. Not at all! I bought cheaply, very cheaply. Bigiel, who is afraid of everything, still confesses that that is a good purchase; besides, I remain in company with him for the future. But only be not afraid of Kremen, Marys, or the old troubles. There will be something to work with; and I tell thee sincerely that if to-day all Kremen were to sink in the earth, we should have enough to support us, together with Stas.”

“I,” said Marynia, looking at him more or less as she would on Napoleon, or some other conqueror of similar size, “am certain that thou wilt do all that thou wishest, but I know that it was only for me that Kremen was bought.”

“And I hope that I bought it, too, because thy mother is lying there, because I love thee, and because thou lovest Kremen,” answered Pan Stanislav. “But in thy way thou hast brought me back to the soil. I recall thy words in Venice when Mashko wanted to sell Kremen to Bukatski. Thou hast no idea of how I am under thy influence. Sometimes thou wilt say a thing, and I for the moment make no answer; still it remains in me, and later it is heard unexpectedly. So it was in this business. It seems strange to me now for a man to dwell on this planet, to have some wealth, as it were, and not have three square ells of this earth, concerning which he might say ‘mine.’ Then the question was settled. Then came the purchase. Perhaps thou hast noticed that for some months I have been buzzing about like a fly in a caldron. I did not wish to speak to thee till all was finished; I preferred a surprise. And thou hast it! This is because thou hast recovered, and art so beloved.”

Here he seized her hands, and began to press them again to his mouth and his forehead. She wanted to kiss his hands, too, but he would not permit that; and at last they began to run after each other, like children, through the room, speaking to each other words which were kindly, and bright as sunbeams. Marynia wanted so much to go straight to Kremen, and to such a degree was she unable to think of aught else, that at last he threatened to grow jealous of Kremen, and to sell it.

“Oi! thou wilt not sell,” said she, shaking her head.

“Why not?”

“Because,” said she, taking his ear, and whispering into it, “thou lovest me.”

And he began to nod in sign that that was true. But they agreed, to the great delight of Marynia, to go with their whole household to Kremen at the end of the week,—a thing perfectly possible, for Pan Stanislav had made the house ready for the coming of the “heiress.” He assured her, too, that almost nothing had changed, and he had tried only that the rooms should not seem too empty; then he began to laugh suddenly, and said, “I am curious to know what papa will say to this.”

The conjectural astonishment of “papa” was a new cause of delight to Marynia. For that matter, there was no need to wait long for Plavitski, since he came to dinner half an hour later. He had barely showed himself when Marynia, throwing herself on his shoulder, told with one breath the happy news; he was really astonished, and even moved. Perhaps he felt the happiness of his daughter; perhaps there was roused in him an attachment for that corner, in which he had lived so many years; it is enough that his eyes grew moist. First he mentioned his sweat, with which that soil was soaked; then he began to say something of the “old man,” and of his “refuge in the country;” at last, pressing Pan Stanislav’s head between his palms, he said,—

“God grant thee luck to manage as well as I have managed, and be assured that I shall not refuse thee either my assistance or my counsels.”

In the evening, at the Bigiels’, Marynia, still intoxicated with her happiness, said to Pani Bigiel,—

“Well, now, tell me, how could I help loving a man like that?”