It is true the weather was splendid, but it seemed as
if the wind were hushed because it was Sunday; even the corn did not
rock, not a leaf shook on the poplars, the stillness was perfect; yet
there was the cheerfulness of the Sunday in the festive garments, and
in the dancing sunbeams.
I explained to Aniela how, from an artistic point of view, those
bright spots harmonized with the landscape and melted in the distance
into a blue haze. Then we began to talk about the peasants. I
confessed that I did not see anything but a crowd of more or less
picturesque models; but Aniela looks at them from a quite different
point of view. She began telling me many characteristic traits, some
sad, and some amusing, and while talking grew very animated, and at
the same time as lovely as a summer's dream.
The conversation again drifted towards the old couple we had left
sitting under the church gate, and especially the old woman, whose
reasoning had amused us so much. I began comparing her position to my
own. As my aunt remained with Pani Celina, whom the servant wheeled
along at a certain distance behind, I could with freedom allude to our
last conversation in the park.
"Not long ago," I said, "I asked you for alms, and you bestowed them
on me. I see now that this does not bind me to anything, and I may
again hold out my wooden platter at the church gate.
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