This fifteenth of May will be one of the best remembered
days in my life. It is now past midnight; I am wide awake, as if I
never wanted to sleep again, and intend to write until morning. I am
collecting my thoughts so as not to begin at the end, and put it all
down in proper order. Force of habit is a great help in this.
My aunt sent the carriage for the Sniatynskis and Clara very early, in
consequence of which they arrived before noon. The ladies were bright,
cheerful, and chirping like sparrows, glad of the fine weather and
their excursion. What toilets, and what quaint hats! Clara looked
very well in a light, striped dress that made her seem less tall than
usual. I observed that Aniela, after the first greeting, looked at her
searchingly and seemed struck by her beauty, of which I had scarcely
said anything to her. I had not refrained out of calculation, but
had been so occupied with Aniela that I had not thought of it. For
instance, though I had met Pani Sniatynska several times I had never
noticed she wore her hair short, which suits her style of beauty. The
light, curly hair falling over her brow gives her the expression of a
resolute, rosy-faced boy. We are excellent friends again. There was a
time she would have liked to kill me, so angry was she about Aniela.
Evidently her husband had told her what I suffered, and women have
a special weakness for those who suffer for love's sake; she has
forgiven me and reinstalled me in her favor.
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