Mrs. Tiralla was ill, and her strange behaviour had made her husband quite ill, too. His Sophia! What was the matter with her? Was she angry with him? He ransacked his brain to find out what he had done to her, but he found nothing. He had done his utmost to put her into a good humour. He had driven to Rosenthal's in Gnesen and bought her a smart black-and-white check coat and skirt. It suited her admirably, and when she had it on she looked like a fine lady going on her travels. But all he could get from her was a feeble, "I should have preferred a black costume." Then he had driven to Gnesen and ordered her a black costume, and as that had not turned out satisfactory, he had even gone to Posen about it. But when he had brought it home--it had been nice and dear--she had only said, "But I can't wear it after all." The deuce, why not? The truth was, he never could do anything to please her. That made him very low-spirited. Why was she so perverse? Why did she look at him so strangely? He had caught one of those rare glances she vouchsafed him, and it had bewildered him. He had asked Marianna if she knew why her mistress was in such a bad humour, and why she frowned so. [Pg 157] "Let the wicked look fall on the dog," whispered Marianna, and spat on the ground whilst she made the sign of the cross. She would take good care not to mention her suspicions to her master. If she said to him, "That woman is up to something," he would turn her out of the house as a reward. He was still so wrapped up in the woman. And she really did not know herself what the Pani was up to. The mushrooms had agreed with the master all right; he had not been ill after them. She had had nothing to confide to the priest. And even if she had had something to tell him about the Pani, he would never have believed a particle of it, he was so attached to her. She, Marianna, had even had to acknowledge her own sinful thoughts when she had gone to confession. When the priest had asked her, "Do you nourish wicked or suspicious thoughts against anybody in your heart?" she had had to confess that she did, and he had seriously exhorted her not to transgress against the eighth commandment. So Marianna shrugged her shoulders when Mr. Tiralla stood before her with a perplexed look on his face, and gave him an evasive answer. How horrid his Sophia had been to him again, he complained. He had hardly been into her room--she had established herself in the little room upstairs now and rarely came down--and then merely to ask how she was. He had only ventured to take hold of her hand and ask her if she were feverish, as her eyes burned so, and she had flung his hand away as if he were some unclean animal, and had wept, and wept, until he had grown quite uneasy.