Yatsek had never mentioned his love to the young lady, but she knew of it perfectly, though she feigned not to know, and in general not to wish to know of anything which happened within him. She wondered at him, wondered how he pleased her. Once, when they were chasing some bees, she fell under his cloak and fondled up to his heart for a moment, but for two days she would not forgive him because of this. At times she treated him almost contemptuously, and when it seemed to him that all had been ended forever, she, with one sweet look, one hearty word filled him with endless delight, and with hope beyond limit. If at times, because of a wedding, or a name's day, or a hunt in the neighborhood, he did not come for some days she was lonely, but when he did come she took revenge on him for her loneliness, and tormented him long for it. He passed his worst moments when there were guests at the mansion, and there happened among them some young man who was clever and good-looking. Then Yatsek thought that in her heart there was not even the simplest compassion. Such were his thoughts now because of Pan Stanislav and all that Pan Grothus had told of the coming war added bitterness to his cup, which was then overflowing. Self-control in Pan Gideon's mansion was habitual with Yatsek, still, he could hardly sit to the end of the supper as he heard the words of the lady and Pan Stanislav. He saw, unhappy victim, that the other man pleased her, for he was in fact an adroit and agreeable young fellow, and far from being stupid. The talk at table turned always on the levies. Stanislav, learning from Pan Grothus that perhaps the levies would be made under him in those regions, turned to the lady on a sudden, and asked,-- "What regiment do you prefer?" "The hussars," said she, looking at his shoulders. "Because of the wings?" "Yes. Once I saw hussars and thought them a heavenly army. I dreamt of them afterward two nights in succession." "I know not whether I shall dream when a hussar, but I know that I shall dream of you earlier, and of wings also." "Why is that?" "I should dream of a real angel." Panna Anulka dropped her eyes till a shade fell on her rosy cheeks from her eyelids. "Be a hussar," said she, after an interval. Yatsek gritted his teeth, drew his palm over his moistened forehead, and during the supper he did not get word or look from the lady. Only when they had risen from the table did a sweet, beloved voice sound at his ear. "But will you go to this war with the others?" "To die! to die!" answered Yatsek. And in that answer there was such a genuine, true groan of anguish that the voice was heard again, as if in sympathy,-- "Why sadden us?" "No one will weep for me." "How know you that?" said the voice now a third time. Then she slipped away to the other guests as swiftly as a dream vision, and bloomed, like a rose, at the other end of the drawing-room.