Stella.--Has he needed it?
Czeska.--No, my little kitten--rest easy. You know I am laughed at for
seeing everything in a rosy hue. He belongs to a good family, he is
young, rich, good-looking, well-bred, but--
Stella.--But what?
Czeska.--A bird must have sung it, because I cannot remember who told
me that he is a little bit like a storm.
Stella.--Yes, his life has been stormy, but he was not broken by it.
Czeska.--So much the better. Listen! Such people are the best--they
are true men. The more I think of it, the more sincerely I
congratulate you.
Stella.--Thank you. I am glad I spoke to you frankly. The fact is that
I am very lonesome here: papa is always ailing and our doctor has been
away for three months.
Czeska.--Let that doctor of yours alone.
Stella.--You never liked him.
Czeska.--You know that I am not easily prejudiced against any one, but
I do not like him.
Stella.--And do you know that he has been offered a professorship
at the university, and that he is anxious to be elected a member of
parliament? Mother, you are really unjust. You know that he sacrificed
himself for us.
He is famous, rich, and a great student, but notwithstanding all that
he remains with us when the whole world is open to him. I would surely
have asked his advice.
Czeska.--Love is not an illness--but no matter about him. May God help
him! You had better tell me, dear kitten--are you very much in love?
Stella.
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