But he could not guard himself from sleepless nights. Then came to him the clear feeling that Marynia might love him, that she would be the best wife for him, that he would be happy with her as never with any one else, and that he would love her as his highest good. The regret born of these thoughts filled his whole existence, and did not leave him any more, so that sorrow was consuming his life and his health, as rust consumes iron. Pan Stanislav began to grow thin; he saw that the destruction of a feeling gives one sure result,--the destruction of happiness. Never had he seen such a void before him, and never had he felt, with equal force, that nothing would fill it. He saw, too, that it was possible to love a woman not as she is, but as she might be; therefore his heart-sickness was beyond measure. But, having great power over himself, he avoided Marynia. He knew always when she was to be at Pani Emilia's, and then he confined himself at home. It was only when Litka fell ill again that he began to visit Pani Emilia daily, passing hours with the sick child, whom Marynia attended also. CHAPTER XV. But poor Litka, after a new attack, which was more terrible than any preceding it, could not recover. She spent days now lying on a long chair in the drawing-room; for at her request the doctor and Pani Emilia had agreed not to keep her in bed the whole time. She liked also to have Pan Stanislav sitting near her; and she spoke to him and her mother about everything that passed through her mind. With Marynia she was silent usually; but at times she looked at her long, and then raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if wishing to think out a thought, and give herself an account of something. More than once these meditations took place when she was left alone with her mother. On a certain afternoon she woke as if from a dream, and turning to her mother, said,-- "Mamma, sit near me here on the sofa." Pani Emilia sat down; the child put her arms around her neck, and, resting her head on her shoulder, began to speak in a caressing voice, which was somewhat enfeebled. "I wanted to ask mamma one thing, but I do not know how to ask it." "What is thy wish, my dear child?" Litka was silent a moment, collecting her thoughts; then she said,-- "If we love some one, mamma, what is it?" "If we love some one, Litus?" Pani Emilia repeated the question, not understanding well at first what the little girl was asking, but she did not know how to inquire more precisely. "Then what is it, mamma?" "It is this,--we wish that one to be well, just as I wish thee to be well." "And what more?" "And we want that person to be happy, want it to be pleasant in the world for that person, and are glad to suffer for that person when in trouble." "And what more?" "To have that one always with us, as thou art with me; and we want that one to love us, as thou lovest me."