Free The Doll by Boleslaw Prus Page B

that Mr Łęcki could number whole crowds of senators in his family. His father had owned millions of roubles, and he himself, when young, had had thousands. Later, however, a part of his fortune had been engulfed by political events, and the rest by travelling in Europe and mixing in high society. Before 1870, Mr Łęcki had been in attendance at the Court of France, then at the court in Vienna and in Rome. Charmed by the beauty of Łęcki’s daughter, Victor Emmanuel had honoured him with friendship and even wished to bestow the title of Count upon him. It is understandable, therefore, that Mr Łęcki wore mourning crepe on his hat for two months after the death of that amiable monarch.
    But for some years now Mr Łęcki had not left Warsaw, for he no longer had the money to sparkle in royal Courts. But his apartment became a gathering-place for the elegant world and remained so until a rumour began to spread to the effect that Tomasz had lost not only his fortune but also Izabela’s dowry.
    The first to withdraw were the marrying men, then the ladies with plain daughters, whereupon Mr Tomasz himself broke with the rest and restricted his acquaintance exclusively to members of his family. But when he saw a coolness here too, he withdrew entirely from society and even (to the dismay of many worthy persons), as an owner of a tenement house in Warsaw, joined the merchants’ social club. They wanted to make him president, but he declined.
    But his daughter went on frequenting the home of the old Countess Karolowa and a few of the latter’s female friends, and this in itself started the rumour that Tomasz still had his fortune and that he had quit society partly through eccentricity, partly to find out who his true friends were, and to choose for his daughter a husband who would love her for herself and not for her dowry.
    So once again a crowd of admirers began to gather around Miss Łęcki, and piles of visiting cards lay on the little table in her boudoir. Visitors were not received, however, but this did not arouse much annoyance, for a third rumour now started, to the effect that Łęcki’s house was to be put up for auction.
    At this, confusion prevailed in society. Some vowed that Mr Łęcki was bankrupt, others were ready to swear that he had merely concealed his fortune to assure the happiness of his only child. Marriageable men and their relatives were agonisingly uncertain. Neither to risk anything nor to lose anything, they paid their tributes to Miss Izabela without involving themselves too much, and quietly left cards at her home, praying they would not be invited there before the situation had cleared.
    There was no question of Mr Łęcki paying return visits. People explained this as due to his eccentricity and grief over the death of Victor Emmanuel.
    Meanwhile Mr Łęcki walked in Aleje Ujazdowskie every day and played whist at the club in the evenings. His expression was always so tranquil, his attitude so haughty, that the admirers of his daughter lost their heads entirely. The most sensible of them waited, but the boldest began once more to bestow upon her their veiled glances, their quiet sighs or a trembling pressure of the hand, to which the young lady responded with an icy, often contemptuous indifference.
    Izabela was an uncommonly pretty woman. Everything about her was original and perfect. More than average in height, a very shapely figure, copious blonde hair with an ash tint, a straight nose, a somewhat supercilious mouth, pearly teeth, ideal hands and feet. Her eyes were especially impressive, being sometimes dark and dreamy, sometimes full of light and merriment, or sometimes clear blue and as cold as ice.
    The play of her features was striking. When she spoke, her lips, brows, nostrils, hands, her whole figure seemed to speak too — and above all her eyes spoke, and seemed to want to pour out her soul into that of her interlocutor.