Mr. Sztolarik showed no surprise at the offer.
"So you want to buy 'Lebanon'?" he said. "It is a good orchard, and produces the finest fruit imaginable. This year a well-known hotel-keeper bought all the fruit, and paid an enormous price for it. But what made you think of buying 'Lebanon'?"
"I should like to build a house there, a larger house than the present one."
"H'm! There is always a good deal of bother attached to a purchase of that kind," said Sztolarik coldly; "the present owner is a minor, and the Court of Chancery must give permission for the sale to take place. I would rather leave things as they are. When the boy is of age he may do what he likes, but if I sell it now he may be sorry for it later on. No, no, Mr. Gregorics, I can't agree to it. After all the house and orchard are a pretium affectionis for the boy; he spent his childhood there."
"But if I offer a good sum for it," broke in Gáspár, nervously.
Sztolarik began to feel curious.
"What do you consider a good sum? What do you think of offering for it?"
"Why, I would give—" and here he was overcome by a fit of coughing, which made him turn as red as a peony—"I would give 15,000 florins."
Well, that was a brilliant offer, for Pál Gregorics had bought it of the clergyman's widow for 5000 florins. It was only a small bit of ground, and a good way from the market, which decreased its value exceedingly.
"Utcumque," said Sztolarik, "your offer is a good one. But, but ... well, I'll tell you what, Mr. Gregorics, I'll consider your offer a bit, and I must write to the boy about it too, and also speak to his mother."