I try to surround myself with youths who pretend they
are in love with me. There is not a penny-worth of truth in all of
it--they all lie, but the form of the lie is beautiful because they
are all well-bred people. The Count Skorzewski visits me also--you
must have heard of him, I am sure. I recommend him to you as a
model for Adonis. Ha! ha! You do not recognize the wild-flower of
Kalinowice?
Leon.--No, I do not recognize it.
Jadwiga.--No! But the life flower.
Leon.--As a joke--
Jadwiga.--At which one cannot laugh always. If our century was not
sceptical I should think myself wild, romantic, trying to drown
despair. But the romantic times have passed away, therefore, frankly
speaking, I only try to fill up a great nothing. I also spin out my
ball, although not always with pleasure. Sometimes I seem to myself so
miserable and my life so empty that I rush to my prayer-desk, left by
my mother. I weep, I pray--and then I laugh again at my prayers and
tears. And so it goes on--round and round. Do you know that they
gossip about me?
Leon.--I do not listen to the gossip.
Jadwiga.--How good you are! I will tell you then why they gossip. A
missionary asked a negro what, according to his ideas, constituted
evil? The negro thought a while, and then said: "Evil is if some one
were to steal my wife." "And what is good?" asked the missionary.
"Good is when I steal from some one else.
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