"There is no cause for pardon, since there is no fault. They told you that I occupy myself with everything; hence you turned to me." Twilight spread more deeply by degrees. After a certain time they returned to the house, and, as the evening was beautiful, they sat down on the garden veranda. Pan Stanislav entered the drawing-room for a moment, returned with a footstool, and, bending down, pushed it under Marynia's feet. "I thank you, I thank you much," said she, inclining, and taking her skirt with her hand; "how kind of you! I thank you much." "I am inattentive by nature," said he; "but do you know who taught me a little carefulness? Litka. There is need of care with her; and Pani Emilia has to remember this." "She remembers it," answered Marynia, "and we will all help her. If she had not gone to Reichenhall, I should have invited her here." "And I should have followed Litka without invitation." "Then I beg you in papa's name, once and for all." "Do not say that lightly, for I am ready to abuse your kindness. For me it is very pleasant here; and as often as I feel out of sorts in Warsaw, I'll take refuge in Kremen." Pan Stanislav knew this time that his words were intended to bring them nearer, to establish sympathy between them; and he spoke with design, and sincerely. While speaking, he looked on that mild young face, which, in the light of the setting sun, seemed calmer than usual. Marynia raised to him her blue eyes, in which was the question, "Art speaking by chance, or of purpose?" and she answered in a somewhat lower voice,-- "Do so." And both were silent, feeling that really a connection between them was beginning. "I am astonished that papa is not returning," said she, at last. The sun had gone down; in the ruddy gloaming, an owl had begun to circle about in slow flight, and frogs were croaking in the pond.