not to render difficult and involved the life of some one who might, but does not wish to become dear. Meanwhile in the depth of the soul lies a calm secret melancholy; they find sweetness and consolation in the tenderness permitted by friendship. Pan Stanislav, by becoming acquainted with Marynia, gave her at once the best part of his feelings. Why? for what purpose? Only to give himself suffering. Now, to complete the misfortune, that Litka, the one ray of his life, had died, or might die any moment. Pan Stanislav looked again at her, and said in his soul,-- "Remain even, thou dear child; thou knowst not how needful thou art to me and to thy mother. God guard thee; what a life there will be without thee!" Suddenly he saw that the eyes of the child were looking at him. For a while he thought himself mistaken, and did not dare to stir; but the little maiden smiled, and finally she whispered,-- "Pan Stas." "It is I, Litus. How dost thou feel?" "Well; but where is mamma?" "She will come right away. We had a great struggle to make her go to bed to sleep, and we hardly persuaded her." Litka turned her head, and, seeing Marynia, said,-- "Ah! is that Aunt Marynia?" For some time she had called her aunt. Marynia rose, and, taking the vial which stood on the shelf, poured drop after drop into a spoon; then she gave them to Litka, who, when she had finished drinking, pressed her lips to Marynia's forehead. A moment of silence followed; then the child said, as if to herself,-- "There is no need of waking mamma." "No; no one will wake her," answered Pan Stanislav. "All will be as Litus wishes." And he began to stroke her hand, which was lying on the coverlid. She looked at him, repeating, as was her wont,-- "Pan Stas, Pan Stas!" For a while it seemed that she would fall asleep; but evidently the child was thinking of something with great effort, for her brows rose. At last, opening widely her eyes, she looked now at Pan Stanislav, and now at Marynia. In the room nothing was heard save the sound of rain on the windows. "What is the matter with the child?" asked Marynia. But she, clasping her hands, whispered in a voice barely audible, "I have a great, great prayer to Aunt Marynia, but--I am afraid to say it." Marynia bent her mild face toward the little girl. "Speak, my love; I will do everything for thee." Then the little girl, seizing her hand, and pressing it to her lips, whispered,-- "I want Aunt Marynia to love Pan Stas." In the silence which followed after these words was to be heard only the somewhat increased breathing of the little girl. At last the calm voice of Marynia was heard,-- "Very well, my love." A spasm of weeping seized Pan Stanislav suddenly by the throat; everything, not excluding Marynia, vanished from his eyes before that child, who, at such a moment, sick, powerless, and in the face of death, thought only of him. Litka asked further,-- "And will aunt marry Pan Stas?"