Maya (she is short of words).—I really thought, Mrs. Kocianova, that I would not be over to see you any more. I am on my way to Prague. But the doctor told me about something on the way.
Kocianova (without interest).—About what, Miss?
Maya.—About that which Mr. Petr intends to do.
Kocianova (surprised).—And so the doctor knows about it?
Maya.—Mr. Petr went to him for advice.
Kocianova (mournfully).—Before he told his own mother! God, God! What’s happening!
Maya.—He did not want to make you sad. He first wanted to talk to some one else about it.
Kocianova.—God—God!
Maya (firmly).—And I am coming to dissuade him. I feel it my sacred duty.
Kocianova (softly).—My dear golden Miss.
Maya.—Of course I do not know if he will obey me. I dread the thought that he will not. But promise me, Mrs. Kocianova, that even if I am not able to persuade Petr, still that you will forgive me.
Kocianova.—And what shall I forgive you?
Maya.—I don’t know how I ought to tell you, so that you would not misunderstand my words. Listen, when I came to you the other day and heard that Mr. Petr was to become a priest, I felt sorry for him. I did not expect to. And when I learned that it was your doing, I felt angry with you. You will forgive me, won’t you?
Kocianova (confused).—But, Miss
Maya.—See! I did not consider possible what I feel now.
Kocianova.—You know that it would be a great sin?
Maya (she overcomes her own conviction).—Yes. It would. And that sin I do not want to have on my conscience. But tell me, tell me the truth. Did it not occur to you that I caused it all?
Kocianova (surprised).—Merciful Jesus! Miss! How could I ever think so meanly of you?
Maya (timidly).—Really, do you not blame me?
Kocianova.—But, God in heavens, Miss! That would be against God, if I should ever for a minute think that you could be so bad.
Maya.—So you do not believe that Mr. Petr wanted to do it on account of me?
Kocianova.—Great heavens! Could that be possible?
Maya (firmly).—It could.
Kocianova.—Did he say anything like
