The past few seasons had proven to be nothing short of disastrous, and the winter of 1890 seemed to be nothing less.

Due to circumstances, you had to visit family in neighbouring cities via railway connections. As you opened the doors, the gentle aroma of chamomile tea greeted you. To your surprise, a refined man holding a newspaper was seated, cup placed on the chipping table.

His voice rang out, like the calm morning breeze. “Ah, good evening. I suppose the other wagons were full?”