dust twirled by the storm; and after a momentary silence "eternal repose," full of solace, resounded and the ceremony was over. On the coffin they threw a few handfulls of sand, and then pushed it into the opening which the masons began to wall up, laying brick upon brick and coating them with mortar. The barrier, which was to forever separate Zarnowski from the world and light, grew with each moment. Groups of peasants slowly left the cemetery. Two female neighbors from Gorek, a Pani Wlocek, an old and pathetic dame, and her daughter, who was not young, approached Pani Krzycki and felt it incumbent upon them to offer a "few words of consolation," which nobody expected and which were absolutely unnecessary. Gronski began to converse with Ladislaus: "Observe," he quietly said, looking at the work of the masons, "yet a few more bricks and then, as Dante says, 'Aeterna silenza.' No sorrow, not a tear; no one will ever come here expressly for him. Something similar awaits me, and you remember that thus they bury old bachelors. Your mother is quite right in wanting to have you married." "To tell the truth," answered Krzycki, "the deceased was not only an old bachelor, but also was unsocial. But finally, is it not all the same?" "After death, certainly. But during life, when you think of it, it is not at all the same. This 'lust for posthumous grief' may be illogical and foolish, but nevertheless it exists." "Whence does it come?" "From an equally unwise desire to outlive self. Look, the work is finished and Zarnowski is sealed up. Let us go." At the gates the rattle of the approaching carriages was heard. The party moved towards the exit. The ladies now were in the lead; after them the priests and guests walked, with the exception of Dolhanski, who was talking to the Englishwoman. Suddenly Ladislaus turned to Gronski and asked: "What is Miss Anney's Christian name?" "While we are in the cemetery you might have thought of something else. Her Christian name is Agnes." "A beautiful name." "In England it is quite common." "Is she rich?" "And that question you could defer to another time, but if you are in a hurry, ask Dolhanski. He knows those things best." "I ask you because I see him with her and hear him chattering in English." "Oh, that is a play within a play! He is after Pani Otocka." "Ah!" "Equally as old as it is fruitless. For it is yet difficult to ascertain with any exactness how much Miss Anney possesses, while the amount which the late Director Otocki left his wife is perfectly known." "I have a hope that my beautiful cousin will give him the mitten." "Which would increase a beautiful collection. But tell me, what do you think of your cousins?" "Certainly--Pani Otocka--certainly--both have what the Galicians call 'something ennobling.' But Panna Marynia is still quite a child." Gronski directed his eyes at the slim and slender figure walking before them and said: