When Constantia returned to the drawing-
room, she gave orders for Anielka to be taken
to her apartments, and placed under the
tutelage of Mademoiselle Dufour, a French
maid, recently arrived from the first milliner's
shop in Odessa. Poor girl! when they
separated her from her adopted mother, and began
leading her towards the palace, she rushed,
with a shriek of agony, from them, and grasped
her old protectress tightly in her arms! They
were torn violently asunder, and the Count
Roszynski quietly asked, "Is it her daughter,
or her grand-daughter?"

"Neither, my lord,—only an adopted child."

"But who will lead the old woman home,
as she is blind?"

"I will, my lord," replied one of his servants,
bowing to the ground; "I will let her walk
by the side of my horse, and when she is in
her cabin she will have her old husband,—
they must take care of each other."

So saying, he moved away with the rest of
the peasants and domestics. But the poor
old woman had to be dragged along by two
men; for in the midst of her shrieks and tears
she had fallen to the ground, almost without
life.

And Anielka? They did not allow her to
weep long. She had now to sit all day in the
corner of a room to sew. She was expected
to do everything well from the first; and if
she did not, she was kept without food or
cruelly punished. Morning and evening she
had to help Mdlle. Dufour to dress and undress
her mistress. But Constantia, although she
looked with hauteur on everybody beneath
her, and expected to be slavishly obeyed, was
tolerably kind to the poor orphan. Her true
torment began, when, on leaving her young
lady's room, she had to assist Mdlle. Dufour.
Notwithstanding that she tried sincerely to do
her best, she was never able to satisfy her, or
to draw from her aught but harsh reproaches.

Thus two months passed.

One day Mdlle. Dufour went very early to
confession, and Anielka was seized with an
eager longing to gaze once more in peace and
freedom on the beautiful blue sky and green
trees, as she used to do when the first rays of
the rising sun streamed in at the window of
the little forest cabin. She ran into the garden.
Enchanted by the sight of so many beautiful
flowers, she went farther and farther along the
smooth and winding walks, till she entered the
forest. She who had been so long away from
her beloved trees, roamed where they were
thickest. Here she gazes boldly around. She
sees no one! She is alone! A little farther on
she meets with a rivulet which flows through
the forest. Here she remembers that she has
not yet prayed. She kneels down, and with
hands clasped and eyes upturned she begins
to sing in a sweet voice the Hymn to the
Virgin.

As she went on she sang louder and with
increased fervour. Her breast heaved with
emotion, her eyes shone with unusual
brilliancy; but when the hymn was finished she
lowered her head, tears began to fall over her
cheeks, until at last she sobbed aloud. She
might have remained long in this condition,
had not some one come behind her, saying,
"Do not cry, my poor girl; it is better to sing
than to weep." The intruder raised her head,
wiped her eyes with his handkerchief, and
kissed her on the forehead.

It was the Count's son, Leon!

"You must not cry," he continued; "be
calm, and when the filipony (pedlars) come,
buy yourself a pretty handkerchief." He then
gave her a rouble and walked away. Anielka,
after concealing the coin in her corset, ran
quickly back to the palace.

Fortunately, Mdlle. Dufour had not yet
returned, and Anielka seated herself in her
accustomed corner. She often took out the
rouble to gaze fondly upon it, and set to work
to make a little purse, which, having fastened
to a ribbon, she hung round her neck. She
did not dream of spending it, for it would have
deeply grieved her to part with the gift of
the only person in the whole house who had
looked kindly on her.

From this time Anielka remained always
in her young mistress's room; she was better
dressed, and Mdlle. Dufour ceased to persecute
her. To what did she owe this sudden
change? Perhaps to a remonstrance from
Leon. Constantia ordered Anielka to sit
beside her whilst taking her lessons from
her music-masters, and on her going to the
drawing-room, she was left in her apartments
alone. Being thus more kindly treated, Anielka
lost by degrees her timidity; and when her
young mistress, whilst occupied over some
embroidery, would tell her to sing, she did so
boldly and with a steady voice. A greater
favour awaited her. Constantia, when
unoccupied, began teaching Anielka to read in
Polish; and Mdlle. Dufour thought it politic
to follow the example of her mistress, and
began to teach her French.

Meanwhile, a new kind of torment
commenced. Having easily learnt the two
languages, Anielka acquired an irresistible passion
for reading. Books had for her the charm of
the forbidden fruit, for she could only read by
stealth at night, or when her mistress went
visiting in the neighbourhood. The kindness
hitherto shown her, for a time, began to relax.
Leon had set off on a tour, accompanied by
his old tutor, and a bosom friend as young, as
gay, and as thoughtless as himself.

So passed the two years of Leon's absence.
When he returned, Anielka was seventeen,
and had become tall and handsome. No one
who had not seen her during this time, would
have recognised her. Of this number was
Leon. In the midst of perpetual gaiety and
change, it was not possible he could have
remembered a poor peasant girl; but in Anielka's
memory he had remained as a superior being,
as her benefactor, as the only one who had
spoken kindly to her, when poor, neglected,