Pan Stanislav had been thinking for some time of building a large house in the city,--a house which would satisfy his desire of ownership, and also bring income. But one day he noted a bad side in this practical project,--namely, it had no charm. It is necessary to love that something of which he said, "It is mine;" and how love a brick building, in which any one may live who will hire lodgings. At first he was ashamed of this thought, for it seemed sentimental; but afterward he said to himself, "No; since I have means, it is not only not sentimental to use them in a way which will assure satisfaction, but a proof of judgment." He was more attracted by the thought of a smaller house in the city, or outside the city,--one in which only he and his wife would live. But he wanted with it even a piece of land on which something would grow; he felt, for example, that the sight of trees growing in his garden or before his house, on his land, would cause him great pleasure; he was astonished himself that this was so, but it was. At last he came to the conviction that it would be more agreeable to have some little place near the city, something in the style of that summer house which Bigiel owned, but with a piece of land, a piece of forest, some acres of garden, finally, with grounds, and with a stork's nest somewhere on an old linden-tree. "Since I have means to get it, I prefer it to be thus, not otherwise,--that is, to be beautiful, not ugly," said he. And he began to consider the affair on every side. He understood that since it was a question of a nest in which he was to live out his life, he ought to select with care; hence he did not hurry. Meanwhile meditation over this occupied all his hours free from counting-house toil, and caused him real pleasure. Various people learned soon that Pan Stanislav was seeking to buy with ready money; hence propositions came from various sides, often strange, but at times attractive. On occasions he had to drive to villas in the city, or outside it. Frequently, after his return from the counting-house, or after dinner, Pan Stanislav shut himself in with plans, with papers, and came out only in the evening. In those days Marynia had much leisure. She noted at last that something occupied him unusually, and tried to learn what it was by questioning; but he answered,-- "My child, when there is a result, I will tell thee; but while I know nothing, it would be difficult to talk about nothing. That is so opposed to my nature." She learned at last what the question was from Pani Bigiel, who had learned it from her husband, to whose nature it was not repugnant to speak with his wife about all undertakings and plans for the future. For Marynia it would have been also immensely agreeable to speak with her husband of everything, and especially of the chance of a nest. Her eyes laughed at the very thought of that; but since "Stas's" disposition stood in the way, she preferred through delicacy not to inquire.