ustification: "Order and system
are the foundations of everything; if they are lacking, all else
fails!"

Having finished his tasks, he locked all the drawers of his desk,
glanced out on the platform, and went to his home. He entered not by
way of the anteroom, but through the kitchen, for he had to know all
that was going on. He peeped into the stove, gave the fire a jab
with the poker, scolded the servant-girl because of some water
spilled on the floor, and then proceeded to the dining-room.

"Where is Jenka?" he asked.

"Miss Janina will be here in a minute," answered Mrs. Krenska, a
sort of housekeeper and duenna in one person, a pretty blonde with
expressive features.

"What are you preparing for dinner?"

"The Director's favorite dish; chicken fricassee, sorrel soup, and
cutlets."

"Extravagance! By God, what extravagance! Soup and one kind of meat
is enough even for a king! You will ruin me!"

"But Mr. Director . . . I ordered this meal prepared especially for
you, sir--"

"Bosh! You women have nothing in your heads but fricassees, sweets,
and dainties. All that is bosh!"

"You judge us unfairly, sir; we generally economize more than men
do."

"Aha! You economize so that you can later buy yourselves more
fineries . . . I know, you needn't tell me."

Mrs. Krenska did not answer, but began to set the table for dinner.

Just then, Janina entered. She was a girl of about twenty-two, tall,
well-formed, and broad-shouldered. Her features were not very
regular; she had black eyes, a straight forehead, a trifle too
broad, dark eyebrows strongly accented, a Roman nose, and full
glowing lips. Her eyes had a deep expression indicating an
introspective nature; her lips were tightly drawn together in what
seemed to be a semblance of dignity or hidden temper. Two deep lines
clouded her clear forehead. Gorgeous, wavy blonde hair, with a
reddish tinge, crowned her small round head. Her amber-gold
complexion had the mellowness of a ripe peach. There was something
strange about her voice: an alto that at times dropped into a deep
baritone of almost masculine accents.

She bowed her head to her father and seated herself on the opposite
side of the table.

"Grzesikiewicz was here to see me to-day," said Orlowski slowly
serving the soup, for he always presided over the meals.

Janina glanced at him calmly.

"He asked me for your hand, Jenka."

"What did you tell him, Mr. Director?" quickly interposed Mrs.
Kr