me to us to-morrow for dinner, propose to her, be
accepted by her, in a month you will be married and we shall be
neighbors . . . hey! I like you immensely, Mr. Andrew! I always
dreamed of having such a son. Unfortunately I haven't any, but at
least I'll have a son-in-law."

They kissed each other heartily; the younger jumped into a light
mountain rig waiting near the platform and drove away at a swift
pace along a narrow road leading through the wood. He glanced back,
tipped his hat, sent a deeper bow to the windows of the second
story, and disappeared in the shadow of the trees. After riding a
little way, he sprang from the carriage, ordered the driver to go
on, and continued his journey on foot by a short cut.

The station-master, as soon as his guest had vanished from sight,
reentered his office and busied himself with his official
correspondence. He was highly satisfied that Grzesikiewicz had asked
him for his daughter's hand and he had promised her to him in the
certainty that she would agree.

Grzesikiewicz, although not handsome, was sensible and very rich.
The woods among which stood the station and a few neighboring
farmhouses were the property of his father. The elder Grzesikiewicz
was primarily a peasant, who had transformed himself from an
innkeeper into a trader and had made a fabulous fortune by the sale
of timber and cattle-fodder.

Many people in the neighborhood still remembered that the old man
used to be called Grzesik in his youth. They often ridiculed him for
it, but no one upbraided him for changing his name, for he did not
pose as an aristocrat, nor did he assume an overbearing air toward
others because of his wealth.

He was a peasant, and in spite of all changes remained a peasant to
the very core. His son received a thorough education and now helped
his father. Two years ago he had made the acquaintance of the
station-master's daughter after her return from the academy at
Kielce and had fallen violently in love with her. His father offered
no opposition, but told him plainly to go ahead and marry if he
wanted.

Andrew met the girl quite often, became ever more deeply enamored of
her, but never dared to speak to her of his love. She liked him, but
at the same time her attitude was so frank and straightforward that
his intended words of endearment and confessions of love always
froze upon his lips before he had half uttered them. He felt that
she belonged to a higher breed of women, ina