Starsky rode home to his father's house in deep thought, a very unusual circumstance with him. Graefin Jadwiga Bortynska and Bocher David.... His brain reeled.... And this was the woman he would have asked to be his wife! If he had done so, she would perhaps have accepted him--_perhaps?_--undoubtedly--certainly! It was horrible!... The domestic annals of the house of Starsky contained an unwonted occurrence on that day: a youthful member of that noble family ate very little dinner, and remained lost in thought during the whole of the rest of the afternoon!... * * * * * The park at Barnow Castle was very prettily laid out in flower-beds, and beyond these it was dotted with clumps of fine old trees. The air was full of the song of birds and the perfume of spring flowers. The sun was shining brightly. A small summer-house was situated in a quiet corner, and from its windows one could look down over blossoming elder-bushes upon the blue waters of the lake, in which the willows at the edge were mirrored. It was a place to sit and dream in. But the woman who was seated in the large easy-chair near the window was not thinking pleasant thoughts. Her eyes, which were gazing fixedly at some point in the horizon, saw nothing of the quiet beauty of the spring landscape. Her expression was as sad and despairing as her heart. The mask she wore in public had fallen from her face, and she looked what she was--an unhappy, sorely tried woman, and haunted by the bitter memories of the past.... Memories of the past! The days of childhood and early youth, which other people look back upon as an Eden of light and joy, were a time of which she never thought without a shuddering horror:--the dissipation and penury of the life in her father's house--a life of misery and constant dread.... Her mother, a pale, broken-hearted woman, who, foreseeing her husband's ruin, had yet been powerless to prevent it, and who had at last faded and died under the weight of a burden too heavy for her to bear.... She had been the good angel of the house. After her death matters had come to a climax, and everything had to be sold except a small estate to which Jadwiga and her father had been removed.... How distinctly she remembered the following years, with their ever-increasing poverty and shame! This last was the worst--it had been harder to bear than even cold and hunger. And the hopelessness of it all!... Her father, indeed, had been able to find continual comfort in all the ills of life in the brandy-bottle, and when he had drunk himself into a good humor and hopefulness, it had irritated him to see his daughter's sad tearful face. On such occasions he used to beat her cruelly in order to make her look cheerful!... As Jadwiga thought of these things her face wore an expression of utter contempt. Alas for those who can only remember their parents with scorn!