The Comedienne. Władysław Stanisław Reymont

speak, but in such a low tone, Janina could scarcely hear what he said. Mrs. Krenska was plainly excited.

      A gloomy atmosphere hung over them all. The dinner dragged wearily on. Orlowski at times became wrapt in thought, and would then knit his brows, angrily tug at his beard, and fling murderous glances at his daughter.

      After dinner they went to the parlor. Black coffee and cognac were served. Orlowski quickly gulped down his coffee and left the room, kissing Janina on the forehead and growling some unintelligible remark as he departed.

      They remained alone.

      Janina kept looking out of the window. Grzesikiewicz, all flushed and flustered and unlike himself, began to say something, taking little swallows of coffee in between, until, finally, he drained it off at the gulp and shoved his cup and saucer aside so vigorously that they went tumbling over the table.

      She laughed at his violence and embarrassment.

      "At a moment like this a man could swallow a lamp without noticing it," he remarked.

      "That would be quite a feat," she answered, again bursting into empty laughter.

      "Are you laughing at me?" he asked uneasily.

      "No, only the idea of swallowing a lamp seemed comical."

      They relapsed into silence. Janina fidgeted with the window-shade, while Grzesikiewicz tore at his gloves and impulsively bit his moustache; he was literally shaking with emotion.

      "It is so hard for me, so awfully hard!" he began, raising his eyes to her entreatingly.

      "Why?" she queried tersely and evasively.

      "Well, because … because … For God's sake, I can't stand it any longer! No, I can't endure this torment any longer, so I'll come right out with it: I love you, Miss Janina, and beg you for your hand," he cried aloud, at once sighing with immense relief. But immediately he struck his forehead with his hand and, taking Janina's hand, began anew:

      "I have loved you ever so long, but feared to tell you. And now I don't know how to express it as I would like to. … I love you and beg you to be my wife. … "

      He kissed her hand fervently and gazed at her with his blue, honest eyes burning with blind love. His lips twitched nervously and a pallor overspread his features.

      Janina arose from her chair and, looking straight into his eyes, answered slowly and quietly: "I do not love you."

      All her nervousness had vanished.

      Grzesikiewicz recoiled violently, as though someone had struck him, as though he did not understand. He said with a trembling voice:

      "Miss Janina … be my wife … I love you!"

      "I do not love you … I cannot therefore marry you … I will not marry at all!" she answered in the same cold tone, but at the last word her voice wavered with an accent of pity for him.

      "God!" cried Grzesikiewicz, holding his hand to his head. "What does it mean? … You will not marry! … You will not be my wife! … You do not love me!"

      He threw himself impulsively on his knees before her, seized her hands, and, covering them with kisses, began, with what seemed almost tears of feverish terror, to entreat her fervently, humbly.

      "You do not love me? … You will love me in time. I swear that I, my mother, and my father will be your slaves. I will wait if you wish … Say that in a year, or two, or even five, you will love me. … I will wait. … I swear to you that I will wait! But do not say no to me! For God's sake do not say that, for I shall go mad with despair! How can it be? You do not love me! … But I love you … we all love you … we cannot live without you! … no. … Your father told me that … that … and now … God! I will go crazy! What are you doing to me! What are you doing to me!"

      Springing up from the floor he fairly cried aloud with pain.

      Mechanically he pulled off his gloves, tore them to pieces and flung them on the floor, buttoned up his coat to the topmost button, and struggling to control himself said: "Farewell, Miss Janina. But always … everywhere … forever … I will … " he whispered with great effort, bowed his head and went toward the door.

      "Andrew!" she called after him forcibly.

      Grzesikiewicz turned back from the door.

      "Andrew," she said in a pleading voice, "I do not love you, but I respect you. … I cannot marry you, I cannot … but I will always think of you as of a noble man. Surely you will understand that it would be a base thing for me to marry a man whom I do not love … I know that you detest falsehood and hypocrisy and so do I. Forgive me for hurting you, but I also suffer … I also am not happy oh no!"

      "Janina if you would only … if you would only … "

      She regarded him with such a sorrowful expression that he became silent. Then slowly he left the room.

      Janina still sat there dazed, staring at the door through which he had gone, when Orlowski entered the room.

      He had met Grzesikiewicz on the stairs and in his face had read what had happened.

      Janina uttered a little cry of fear, so great a change had come over him. His face was ashen-gray, his eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets, his head swayed violently from side to side.

      He seated himself near the table and with a quiet, smothered voice asked, "What did you tell Grzesikiewicz?"

      "What I told you yesterday; that I do not love him and will not marry him!" she answered boldly, but she was startled at the seeming calm with which her father spoke.

      "Why?" he queried sharply, as though he did not understand her.

      "I told him that I do not love him and do not wish to marry at all. … "

      "You are a fool! … a fool! … a fool!" he hissed at her through his tightly set teeth.

      She regarded him calmly and all her old obstinacy returned.

      "I said that you would marry him. I gave my word that you would marry him, and you will marry him!"

      "I will not! … no one is able to force me!" she answered sullenly, looking with steady gaze into her father's eyes.

      "I will drag you to the altar. I will compel you! … You must! … " he cried hoarsely.

      "No!"

      "You will marry Grzesikiewicz, I tell you; I, your father, command you to do so! You will obey me immediately, or I will kill you!"

      "Very well, kill me, if you want to, but I'll not obey you!"

      "I will drive you out of this house!" he shouted.

      "Very well!"

      "I will disown you!"

      "Very well!" she answered with growing determination. Janina felt that with each word her heart was hardening with greater resolve.

      "I'll drive you out … do you hear? … and even though you die of hunger, I never want to hear of you again!"

      "Very well!"

      "Janina! I warn you, don't drive me to extremity. I beg you marry Grzesikiewicz, my daughter, my child! … Isn't it for your good? You have no one but me in the world and I am old … I will die … and you will remain alone without protection or support. … Janina, you have never loved me! … If you knew how unhappy I have been throughout my life, you would take pity on me!"

      "No! … Never! … " she answered, unmoved even by his pleading.

      "I ask you for the last time!" he shouted.

      "For the last time I tell you no!" she flung back at him.

      Orlowski hurled his chair to the floor with such force that it was shattered to pieces. He tore open the collar of his shirt, so violent was the paroxysm of fury