As for the countess, it is easy to understand that in her feelings for him there was not and could not be anything which contained hate in it. A somewhat roused vanity might lead rather to love than to hatred. To tell the truth, Countess Lula wished simply that that energetic democrat might in future bend to her aristocratic knees his submissive and enamoured head. But she had not put the object clearly till she noticed that Yosef was a handsome man. We will state in parenthesis that Countess Leocadia was twenty years old, and that for some time there had been roused in her soul various yearnings and disquiets, of which she could not render account to herself. In the language of poets, that would have been called the echo of a desire "to love and be loved, and perhaps even to die young." But whatever the question was, we may be satisfied by knowing that it furnished Lula with a thread of continual thinking of Yosef, the confidence which she had in him. Her gratitude for protection experienced from day to day increased her sympathy. It is true that the old countess in her time had told Lula that a well-bred young lady must not love; but Mother Nature whispered to her something quite different. In truth, those two mothers are often in disagreement. This is one reason why in the souls of most women a broad robust feeling rarely springs up and becomes vigorous in them; on the contrary, a thousand nervous little loves are planted, less winged, but less binding. Lula verified the fact, then, that Yosef was intellectual, noble, and a handsome man; we will not dare to guarantee which quality it was that she emphasized most. That evening, however, when she was going to sleep she gave herself this question, which in the sequel was important, "But if he loved me?" Instead of an answer she ran with bare feet and half dressed to the glass. Authors alone are permitted to see pictures of this sort. The night-cap was on her head, and from under the cap came to her white shoulders tresses of dark hair which disappeared under her night-dress. With gleaming eyes and moving breast she gazed at the glass. "But if he loved me," repeated she, "and if he were to kneel here pale and burning--" At that moment a blood-red blush covered her face and neck; she blew out the light. Thenceforth peculiar changes began to appear in her; sometimes a strange disquiet mastered her, she fell into thoughtfulness; sometimes she walked as if drowsy, as if oppressed, weakened; at another time she covered her head on Malinka's breast, and kissed her without reason. Yosef she saw daily.