impressions I had carried away. We spoke in a low voice, though the
sleeping-rooms were far enough away to make it unnecessary. There was
such confidence and heartiness in our intercourse as among relatives
who are fond of each other.

I told her what I had seen and noticed, as one tells a friend. I spoke
about the general impression the society of the country makes upon a
man that has chiefly lived abroad. She listened quietly with wide-open
eyes, happy to be thus taken into confidence. Then she said:--

"Why do you not write about all that, Leon? That I do not think
of such things is not to be wondered at; but nobody else here has
thoughts like these."

"Why do I not write?" I replied. "There are many reasons for it. I
will explain to you some time; one of them is that I have nobody near
me who, like you, says: 'Leon, why do you not do something?'"

After this we both became silent. I had never seen Aniela's lashes
veil her eyes so closely, and I could almost hear the beating of her
heart.

And indeed she had a right to expect me to say: "Will you remain with
me always and put the same question?" But I found such a keen delight
in skirting the precipice before making the final plunge, and feeling
that heart palpitating almost in my hand that I could not do it.

"Good-night," I said, after a short time.

And that angelic creature gave not the slightest sign that she had met