"I hope so," the girl replied blushingly, as she curtsied and kissed the finger-tips of her patroness. "Francois and I are to be married at the Easter time." "And then the young sister Helena will find her young man?" "I hope so," the young girl reiterated. "We shall be on the lookout for some fine fellow for her," Mrs. Ostrowska said lightly. "There are some very fine young men over to the village at the east of the estate; we must see what we can do," and she moved on, the troop of children at her heels. Their round of the village over, the whole party returned to the dwór, where they found a servant carrying away the straw which had adorned the dining-hall. The man stopped as he encountered the mistress of the house, and bowed his head, as if in apology. "Our cow was taken ill last night, Madame," he explained guiltily. "We thought, perhaps, this might bring her back to health again. We need her milk for the babies. May I?" and he questioned his mistress' face hopefully. "Take it and welcome," the latter replied kindly, "and may you realize your hopes." Well she knew the superstitions of the peasants in regard to the straw from the Christmas table, which was now supposed to be holy. They had been taught from childhood, and for centuries back from one generation to another had the story been handed down, that this straw possessed remarkable virtues and would not only cure illness in cattle but ward off evil spirits from their homes. It is a harmless delusion, and Mrs. Ostrowska did not interfere in any way with the beliefs of her people. She had even known them to tie the sacred straw about the trunks of the fruit trees, when scale would attack them, and if it chanced that they bore well the following year, they attributed it entirely to the efficacy of the straw. The younger children were now sent off to bed, while the older ones, with their parents, awaited the hour of Pasterka, or midnight mass. Service over, in the dim light of early morning, the occupants of the manor made their way slowly homewards on foot. They passed groups of peasant girls, shawls over their heads, loitering on their way to their homes. "For what are they waiting, mother?" Marya asked, as she noticed that the girls were evidently lingering for an object. "They are waiting to accost the first young man they meet," the mother replied, "in order to learn his name." "But what for?" asked Marya a second time. "That is a peasant custom," the mother answered. "Whatever name is given her, she believes that that will be the name of the man she is destined to marry with. As the girls do not meet with many strangers outside of their own village, it is quite a certainty that they will eventually happen to wed with the one accosted." "I should like to learn who my future husband will be," the girl said, somewhat in an undertone, scarce daring to voice her wish.