of the Moldau. So then, two almost radically different forms of life were here opposed to one another: the regular, measured, settled streets along which with loutish steps tramped Poldik beside his cart with raw-boned horses. Poldik, heavy like his sand, from which the water fell drip, drip: and here light-heartedness and elasticity, just like the smooth and marbled surface of the Moldau over which like thought itself skimmed Francis, light-hearted, transparently gay, gentle, and blithsome like that water which here plashed over the yellow sand.
So that Malka’s sudden desertion of Poldik and her subsequent predilection for Francis was so natural an occurrence, that I know not how many young ladies would have given proof to their constancy by not following in Malka’s footsteps. The female heart, according to popular ideas, flies on wings to meet a sailor lover; if the lover be not a sailor, it goes to meet him indeed, but at a perfectly Platonic pace. And we may consider Francis more or less a sailor, at least, in so far as our Moldau justifies the comparison. No doubt a facility to captivate the female heart has also its weak side; for a heart soon won, is also soon lost. But even that awkward land-lubber Rectitude has also his weak side, for being ill-adapted to charm the mind of women, he is too frequently left in the lurch without a wife, in spite of all his constancy of character and his devotion to business.
Malka enjoyed herself on the water beyond measure. Wherever the light craft sped its way, people on the bank paused to gaze upon the bespangled shallop, and asked each other whoever that couple could be. It was clear in the sky above them and in the water below them, the banks were carpeted with brilliant green, and by the river-side lads and lasses promenaded in their Sunday attire, and in all the innocent delights of the Sabbath. Where Malka wished, the skiff stopped; where she wished, it flew forward.
They dined together in a garden, under the broad blue sky; and here Malka already confessed to herself that there was more life in one afternoon with Francis then in all the time she had spent with Poldik.
And this afternoon delighted her more and more. They urged the boat forward against the stream, and the smiles of the whole world seemed concentrated upon them. In the villages by the riverside bands of music were playing, and the tones were wafted to them lightly over the water. The boys who trooped along the banks of the river recognized Francis who was indeed a general favourite among them, shouted to him their salutations from a
