— Dad, let me introduce you to my future wife, and your daughter-in-law, Barbara! — Boris beamed with happiness. — Who?! — Professor, Doctor of Science, Dr. Roman Philimore exclaimed in surprise. — If this is a joke, it’s not very funny! The man observed the nails on Barbara’s rough fingers with disgust. He was convinced this young woman had no concept of soap and water. How else to explain the ingrained dirt beneath her nails? “My God! Thank goodness my Laura never lived to see such disgrace! We tried so hard to teach this lad proper manners,” flashed through his mind. — I’m not joking! — Boris declared defiantly. — Barbara will be staying with us, and we’re getting married in three months. If you refuse to take part in your own son’s wedding, I’ll do without you! — Hello! — Barbara smiled, heading straight to the kitchen as if it were her own. — I’ve brought pasties, homemade raspberry jam, dried mushrooms… — she rattled off the goods from her battered carrier bag. Roman Philimore clutched his heart as he watched Barbara stain the pristine hand-embroidered tablecloth with the leaking jam. — Boris! Are you mad? If you’re doing this just to spite me, then don’t bother… This is too much! Which village did you drag this uncouth girl from? I will not allow her to live in my house! — the professor howled in despair. — I love Barbara. And as my wife, she has every right to live here! — Boris smirked sarcastically. Roman Philimore realised his son was deliberately tormenting him. Refusing to continue the argument, he silently retreated to his room. Relations with his son had grown strained recently. After his mother’s death, Boris became uncontrollable—quitting university, mouthing off to his father, and living a wild, carefree life. Roman Philimore had hoped his son would change, would return to his old, thoughtful and kind self. But with each day Boris grew more distant. Now he’d brought this country girl to their home, fully aware his father would never approve. Not long after, Boris and Barbara married. Roman Philimore refused to attend, unwilling to accept the daughter-in-law he so disliked. He was angry that the spot once held by Laura, an excellent homemaker, wife, and mother, was now occupied by an uneducated girl with poor manners and little conversation. Barbara seemed oblivious to her father-in-law’s disapproval, doing her best to please him—only to make things worse. The man couldn’t see a single positive quality in her, solely because of her lack of education and refinement… Eventually, Boris grew bored of playing the devoted husband, resuming his drinking and partying. The father often overheard their arguments, secretly pleased, hoping Barbara would leave for good. — Dr. Philimore! — his daughter-in-law burst in one day, crying. — Boris wants a divorce—he’s throwing me out, and I’m pregnant! — Why the street? You’re not homeless… Go back to where you came from. Being pregnant doesn’t give you the right to stay after the divorce. Sorry, but I won’t meddle in your affairs, — he replied, inwardly relieved to be rid of her. Barbara wept in despair as she packed. She couldn’t understand why her father-in-law hated her from the start, or why Boris treated her like a stray only to toss her out. So what if she was from the countryside? She had feelings too… *** Eight years passed… Roman Philimore now lived in a care home. The elderly man’s health declined sharply in recent years. Boris wasted no time relocating his father, eager to free himself from responsibility. The old man accepted his fate, knowing there was no alternative. After a long career instilling values of love, respect, and care in thousands—receiving letters of gratitude from former students—he’d failed to raise his own son as a decent human being… — Roman, you’ve got visitors — his roommate announced, returning from his stroll. — Who? Boris? — the old man blurted out, though in his heart he knew it was impossible. His son never visited, he hated his father too deeply… — No idea. The nurse asked me to fetch you. Why are you sitting there? Go quickly! — the roommate smiled. Roman grabbed his cane and slowly left his tiny, stuffy room. Descending the stairs, he saw her from afar—recognising her instantly, even after so many years. — Hello, Barbara! — he said quietly, lowering his head in guilt. To this day, he felt sorry for the sincere young woman he hadn’t protected eight years ago… — Dr. Philimore?! — Barbara, now rosy-cheeked, exclaimed in surprise. — You’ve changed so much… Are you ill? — A bit… — he replied sadly. — How did you find me here? — Boris told me. You know he wants nothing to do with his son, and Ivan is always asking to visit his dad or his granddad… It’s not Ivan’s fault you don’t accept him. He needs family. We’re all alone, — she said, voice trembling. — Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have come. — Wait! — the old man pleaded. — How old is Ivan now? Last photo you sent, he was just three. — He’s here, by the entrance. Shall I call him? — Barbara asked hesitantly. — Of course, my dear, go ahead! — Roman Philimore brightened. In walked a ginger-haired boy—a miniature Boris. Ivan approached the grandfather he’d never met before, hesitantly. — Hello, little one! My, you’ve grown… — the old man teared up, hugging his grandson. They walked for a long time through the autumn park bordering the care home, Barbara recounting her hard life since her mother’s early death and all she’d done to raise her son and keep the household running. — Forgive me, Barbara! I was terribly wrong. Despite considering myself an educated man, it’s only now I’ve realised: people should be valued not for their intellect or manners, but for their sincerity and soul, — the old man admitted. — Dr. Philimore! We have a proposition, — Barbara began nervously. — Come live with us! You’re alone, and Ivan and I are alone too… It would be wonderful to have real family nearby. — Grandad, come stay! We can go fishing together, hunt for mushrooms… The countryside’s beautiful, and we’ve plenty of room! — Ivan pleaded, clutching his grandfather’s hand. — I’ll come! — Roman Philimore smiled. — I’ve missed out raising my own son, but I hope I can give you what Boris never got. And I’ve never lived in the country before. Maybe I’ll love it! — You definitely will! — Ivan laughed.