All the papers are full of it, and
praise me to an extent you have no idea of."
The dear face lit up with pleasure.
"Show me; read it to me," she said eagerly.
I had a desire to kiss her hands for that glimpse of brightness. It
was a new proof. If I were indifferent to her, would she rejoice so
much when I am praised?
"Not now," I replied. "I will read it when my aunt comes back, or
rather she must read it, and I will hide my blushes behind you; you,
at least, shall not see how foolish I look."
"Why should you look foolish?"
"Because the thing is not worth all the fuss, and if there be any
merit in it, it is yours, not mine. They ought to praise you. I would
give a good deal if I could tell those journalists: 'If you think well
of it, go _en masse_ and kneel at certain little feet and pour out
your gratitude there!'"
"Leon! Leon!" interrupted Aniela.
"Now do not say a word, lest I should feel tempted to divulge the
great secret."
Aniela did not know what to say. The words were those of a man in
love; but the tone was so playful and jesting that she could not
possibly receive them in a tragic spirit.
I was glad I had discovered a way by which I could convey a deeper
meaning without absolutely frightening her. But I did not take too
much advantage of it, and presently, in a more serious tone, began
telling her about the projected changes in the house.
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