er of the family? Kranitski did
not think, or even speak, of Baron Emil otherwise than:

"Ce brave garcon has the best heart in the world; he is very
highly developed and intelligent; yes, very intelligent; and his
mother, that dear, angelic baroness, was one of the most
beautiful stars among those which have lighted my life."

So through the man's innate inclination to an optimistic view of
mankind, and his grateful memory of "one of the most beautiful
stars," he was always very friendly to the baron and favorable to
his plan touching Irene; all the more since he noted in her an
inclination toward the baron. So, usually, he gave the young man
counsel and answers willingly and exhaustively. This time,
however, an expression of constraint and of suffering fell on his
face.

"I know not, dear baron; indeed, I can do nothing, for to
tell--for I--" A number of drops of perspiration came out on his
forehead, and he added, with difficulty:

"It seems that Panna Irene--"

"Panna Irene," interrupted the baron, without noticing
Kranitski's emotion, "is a sonnet from Baudelaire's Les fleurs du
mal (The flowers of evil). There is in her something undefined,
something contradictory--"

Kranitski made a quick movement.

"My baron--"

"But do you not understand me, dear Pan Arthur? I have no
intention of speaking ill of Panna Irene. In my mouth the
epithets which I have used are the highest praise. Panna Irene is
interesting precisely for this reason, that she is indefinite and
complicated. She is a disenchanted woman. She possesses that
universal irony which is the stamp of higher natures. Oh, Panna
Irene is not a violet unless from the hot-house of Baudelaire!
But, just for that reason she rouses curiosity, irritates, une
desabusee--une vierge desabusee. Do you understand? There is in
this the odor of mystery--a new quiver. But with natures of this
sort nothing can ever be certain--"

"Hers is a noble nature!" cried Kranitski, with enthusiasm.

"You divide natures into noble and not noble," said the baron,
with a smile; "but I, into annoying and interesting."

Beyond the door the loud voice of Maryan was heard:

"Emil, I will leave you and go to Tron-tron's. I will tell Lili
Kerth that you remained for the night to nurse a sick friend."

These words seemed to them so amusing that they laughed, from
both sides of the closed door, simultaneously.

"Good!" cried the baron. "You will create for me the fame of a
goo