"I shall be ready to fall in love with her really." "That is well. Be in health; I am going to take farewell of Vaskovski." But instead of going to Vaskovski, he went to the Plavitskis', whom he did not find at home, however. Plavitski was never at home, and of Marynia they said that she had gone out an hour before. Usually when a man is going to a woman who rouses vivid interest in him, and makes up his mind on the way what to say to her, he has rather a stupid face if he finds that she is not at home. Pan Stanislav felt this, and was vexed. He went to a greenhouse, however, bought a multitude of flowers, and had them sent to Marynia. When he thought of the delight with which she would receive them, and with what a beating heart she would wait for evening, he was so pleased that after dinner he dropped into Vaskovski's in the very best humor. "I have come to take farewell, Professor; when dost thou start on the journey?" "How art thou, my dear?" answered Vaskovski. "I had to delay for a couple of days; for, as thou seest, I am wintering various small boys here." "Young Aryans, I suppose, who in hours of freedom draw purses out of pockets?" "No, they are good souls; but I cannot leave them without care. I must seek out a successor who will live in my place." "But who would roast himself here? How dost thou live in such heat?" "Because I sit without a coat; and wilt thou permit me not to put it on? It is a little warm here; but perspiration is wholesome, and these little feathered creatures crave heat." Pan Stanislav looked around. In the room there were at least a dozen and a half of buntings, titmice, finches. Sparrows, accustomed evidently to be fed, looked in in flocks through the window. The professor kept in his room only birds purchased of dealers; sparrows he did not admit, saying that if he did there would be no end to their numbers, and that it would be unjust to receive some and reject others. The chamber birds had cages fastened to the walls and the inner sash of the window, but went into them only at night; during daylight they flew through the chamber freely, filling it with twitter, and leaving traces on books and manuscripts, with which all the corners and the tables were filled. Some of the birds which had become very tame sat on Vaskovski's head even. On the floor husks of hemp-seed cracked under one's feet. Pan Stanislav, who knew that chamber thoroughly, still shrugged his shoulders, and said,-- "All this is very good, but that the professor lets them light and sing on his head; that, God knows, is too much. Besides, it is stifling here." "That is the fault of Saint Francis of Assisi," answered Vaskovski, "for I learned from him to love these little birds. I have even a pair of doves, but they are home-stayers." "Thou wilt see Bukatski, of course; I received a letter from him,--here it is." "May I read it?" "I give it to thee for that very purpose."