at same impalpable danger
from which I wanted to fly. I knew it was only a delusion of my brain,
and that really my departure would be the best thing for her. Yet
I could not get rid of the sensation that to desert her would be
cowardice and meanness. All my reasoning cannot get over this.
Besides, the going away is only an empty word; I may say it to myself
a hundred times, but if I were to try to change it into fact I should
find it altogether beyond my power. I have put so much of my life in
that one feeling that it would be easier to cut me into pieces than to
part me from it.

I possess so much control over my thoughts, such a consciousness of
self that it seems to me impossible that I could ever lose my reason.
I cannot even imagine it; but at moments I feel as if my nerves could
not bear the strain any longer.

I am sorry Clara is gone. I have seen but little of her lately; but
I liked to know that she was not far off; now Aniela will absorb me
altogether, because I give to her that power which rules our likings,
and makes us conscious of friendship.

When I returned home, I found there young Chwastowski, who had come to
town in order to consult with his brother, the bookseller. They have
some scheme in hand about selling elementary books. They are always
scheming something, always busy, and that fills their life. I have
come to such a pass that I rejoiced to see him as a child that is
afraid of ghosts is glad to see somebody coming into the room. His
spiritual healthiness seems to brace me. He said that Pani Celina
was so much better that within a week she would be able to bear the
journey to Gastein. Oh yes! yes! Anything for a change! I shall push
that plan with all my powers. I will persuade my aunt to go too. She
will do it for my sake, and in that case nobody will be astonished at
my going. There is at least something I desire, and desire very much.
I shall have so many chances of taking care of Aniela, and shall be
nearer to her than at Ploszow. I feel somewhat relieved; but it has
been a terrible day, and nothing oppresses me so much as dark, rainy
weather. I still hear the drops falling from the waterspouts; but
there is a rift in the clouds, and a few stars are visible.

12 June.

Kromitzki arrived to-day.

Gastein, 23 June.

We arrived at Gastein a week ago,--the whole family: Aniela, my aunt,
Pani Celina, Kromitzki, and myself. I interrupted my diary for some
time, not because I had lost