After supper, when the children had eaten as much as they could, and were tucked up in bed again and asleep, Hanka sat down by the fireside to spin what remained of the organist’s wool; and her father still continued warming himself, looking timidly at her, clearing his throat, and gathering courage to speak; which he did at last, though with great hesitation. “Prithee make it up with him. Think, not of Antek, but of yourself and the children.” “That is easy to say.” “Boryna himself made the first advances.... And see: his home is now become a hell.... He will surely thrust Yagna away from him; if not at once, he will very shortly.... Yuzka can never manage so large an establishment.—If, when that comes to pass, you have found favour in his eyes, it were well.... You can render him many a service, and in good season ... we know not what may happen ... he may ask you to return....” As he spoke, she let the spindle go and, with her head propped on the top of her distaff, began to think this over and reflect upon her father’s advice. He was now preparing to go to bed, but asked her, in a confidential tone: “Did he talk to you by the way?” She told him all. “Pray go to him, my daughter; go to-morrow morning; go, run to him, since he calls for you. Think but of yourself and of the children.... Be on the old man’s side, and kind to him. Be like the docile calf, which, folk say, ‘thrives, sucks much milk, and waxes stout.’—Remember that ‘spite never yet brought success to any man.’—As to Antek, he will return to you. He is now possessed of a devil, and driven to and fro by him; but this will leave him soon, and he will come back to you. Our Lord is watching to deliver you from all these woes in His own good time.” He spent much time exhorting and trying to convince her; but she made no reply. Disappointed, he said no more, but went to bed and lay silent. Hanka went on spinning and pondering his words. From time to time she rose to see whether Antek was coming. Nothing was to be heard. She worked, but did not get on well. The thread would break, or the spindle slip from her hand, because she was turning Boryna’s words over in her mind. Peradventure it might prove true: the hour might strike when he would call her back again! And by slow, slow degrees there grew up in her mind the desire—feeble at first, at last invincible—for peace and reconciliation with Boryna. “We three are destitute: there will be a fourth presently ... and what shall I do then?” She no longer took Antek into account, but considered herself and children, and felt she must decide for them all—must and would.