"We were alone in the house," continued my aunt. "Kromitzki had gone with some Belgians to Nassfeld. The landlord came and told us about the accident on the line, and you can well imagine what state I was in, knowing you were coming by that same line. I sent the landlord at once for a carriage, and this dear child would not let me go alone. What a terrible time it has been for us! Thank God, we escaped with a mere fright. Did you see the wounded?" I kissed my aunt's and Aniela's hands, and told them what I had seen at Lend-Gastein. It appeared that the telegram sent to the Kurhaus was thus expressed: "Railway accident at Lend-Gastein; many killed and wounded." From which everybody concluded that the calamity had happened on the Vienna-Salzburg line. I gave them a few fragmentary details of what I had seen. I did not think much of what I was saying, as my head was full of the one joyful thought: "Aniela could not wait for news at home, and preferred to come with my aunt and meet me!" Did she do this for my aunt's sake? Most assuredly not. I saw the trouble in her face, the sudden terror when she noticed the blood on my hand, and the lighting up of her whole countenance when she heard I had not been near the place at the time of the accident. I saw she was still so deeply moved as to be inclined to weep from sheer happiness. She would have burst into tears if at that moment I had taken her hands and told her how I loved her, and would not have snatched them away. And as all this was as clear as the day, it seemed to me that my torments were about to end, and that from that moment the dawn of another life had begun. From time to time I looked at her with eyes in which I concentrated all my power of love, and she smiled at me. I noticed that she was without gloves or mantle. She had evidently forgotten them in her haste and perturbation. As it had grown rather chilly, I wanted to wrap her in my overcoat. She resisted a little, but my aunt made her accept it. When we arrived at the villa Pani Celina met me with as much overflowing tenderness and delight as if Aniela in case of my death had not been the next of kin, and heiress to the Ploszow estate. Such noble, disinterested women are not often met with in this world. I would not guarantee that Kromitzki when he comes to hear about it may not utter a discreet sigh, and think that the world would go on quite as well if there were no Ploszowskis.