Seed-time and Harvest: A Novel

by Fritz Reuter

CHAPTER XX.

A couple of weeks had passed, which Axel, instead of acquainting himself with his fields, and the management of his estate, spent, for the most part, with Flegel, the wheelwright, in his work shop. The model of his new machine had arrived, which was to plough, harrow, and break clods, all at the same time, and he must set it at work, for himself and for the world. Letters and accounts, and other business in the way of writing, incident to a large estate, must naturally be postponed; and when he came into the house to dinner or supper, he had an important air, as if he must show his young wife what progress he was making in husbandry. And who is more credulous than a young wife? a bride, perhaps? Oh, no! a bride is uncertain, she is feeling and inquiring round, she wishes to learn to know the man she loves; but when she believes that she has learned to know him, and has given him her hand for life, then she becomes secure, and follows him blindly, until the bandage is forcibly torn from her eyes, and even then, she turns away, and strives not to see, and thinks it her duty not to believe what she cannot help seeing. It was nothing wicked which he concealed from her, it was merely follies, and he himself believed that in future he should be active and diligent; but it was a pity that he did not understand, and she did not understand; for, with all her clear eyes and her clear head, she had no idea but it was the same with him as with herself, who went about looking into kitchen and cellar, into milk-house and butter-room, learning how to take the charge of the housekeeping into her own hands.

But everything has its time, and old Kopf, the shepherd, used to say, "On the ninth day, puppies got their eyes open." She was walking one day, towards evening in the garden, under the shade of the high enclosure which separated it from that part of the farm-yard, where the work-shop was situated; and, as she went thoughtfully up and down, she heard, on the other side of the fence, a scolding and disputing, as if two people were having a quarrel: "So? That doesn't suit you? Do you think it suits me? Rascal, what lies in my way? What are you doing here? I would like----" Bang! went something against the door. She became curious, and peeped through the fence; but saw only one man, that was the old wheelwright, Fritz Flegel, and there was nobody with him, at the moment, and he was carrying on the scolding and arguing with his tools and his work. Such a passion in a person entirely alone is very amusing, and the young Frau looked on, with laughing eyes as the old man went on cursing and scolding: "The devil take you, for all me I shall I go crazy over you?" bang! bang! he threw his tools about the shop, and through the half-open door, and then thrust his hands into his hair, and tossed it about his head. Then he stood still again, staring down at the ground. "Infamous creature! making me so much trouble and misery!"

"Good evening, Father!" said another voice, and Kegel, the day-laborer, came in, and stood leaning on his shovel, "what are you working here for? it is evening."

"Working, do you say? Here is something to work at! Say to torment one, rather. What? Do you call that a model? I can work very well after a model, but the devil himself couldn't work after such a model as that."

"Is that the same old beast, you had begun on, the other day?"

"What else should it be? You may ask me next summer, if it is finished!"

"He must have a clever head, though, to think out such things as that."

"So? Do you think so? let me tell you any blockhead can think out things, but the difficulty is to make them. You see, there are three sorts of people in the world; one understands things, but cannot make them, and the second can make them, but don't understand them, and the third can neither make nor understand, and he belongs to the last class,"--here he threw a wedge against the door,--"and that is why he torments a fellow so!"

"Yes, Father, that is so, he doesn't understand. You know, he said we were to go straight to him, if we wanted anything; well I went to him, and told him about the potato-land, how I wanted some more, and he said he knew nothing about such matters, he would speak to our old man about it. If he comes to him, I may wait long enough, for he knows that I let the hoeing go by."

"The old man for me! he stands by his word; he says to me, Flegel, cut me out a plough-board; and I do it, and he says, Flegel, the wheels must have new felloes, and I put them on, and I have nothing to worry about; but with him! You will see, neighbor, he will lie in the nettles, and we shall lie in the nettles too."

"That is so," said Kegel, "my potato-patch lies in the nettles, already."

"Yes," said Flegel, shutting the door, and pulling on his jacket, "but it serves you right! If you have no potatoes it is your own fault, because you did not hoe them; and if the inspector should give you more land, it would not help you."

"That is true," said Kegel shouldering his spade, and going off with Flegel, "it wouldn't help, especially towards filling the children's mouths, yet I might help myself by means of it."

People say, and it is true, that praise from the mouth of a child, or the humblest person, is pleasing to the wisest and most distinguished; but it is just as true that a hard judgment, from the same insignificant source, is painful, and especially painful when it concerns one whom we hold dear. And what had happened? It was only the gossip of laborers, such as often occurs among ignorant people; but the smile had gone from the young wife's eyes, and a look of vexation found place there. Her husband's insight, and his good will to carry out what he had promised in his speech, were called in question, and it all came from this, that he had not grown up to the business he had undertaken.

She was out of humor, when she came in to supper, and he was gay, so that their moods were discordant.

"So, dear Frida," said he, "now we are comfortably settled, I think it is time for us to make our visits in the neighborhood."

"Yes, Axel, but to whom?"

"Well, I think first our nearest neighbors."

"Our Pastor, first of all."

"Why yes, there, too,--later."

"Who else is there, in the neighborhood?" asked the young wife, reckoning over as if thinking aloud, "the landlord Pomuchelskopp, and the pächter[^[3]] Nüssler."

"Dear Frida," said Axel, looking more serious, "you must be jesting about the pächter Nüssler, we can have no intercourse with pächter people."

"I do not agree with you," said Frida, quietly, "I look more at the man, than at his rank. It may not be the same here, as with us, in Prussia; but in my father's house, we were intimate with several pächter families, why not here? Frau Nüssler seems to be a very nice woman."

"My inspector's sister. I cannot visit her; it would not be suitable."

"But the landlord Pomuchelskopp?"

"Of course; the man is a proprietor, is wealthy, is a deputy, as well as myself--"

"And is notorious, in the whole region, and his wife yet more so. No, Axel, I shall not visit there."

"My dear child----"

"No, Axel. If the pächter Nüssler had bought the Gurlitz estate, would he be another person, and would you visit him?"

"That has nothing to do with the case. I shall not visit the pächter," said Axel, angrily.

"Nor I the landlord, I have an aversion to the family," said Frida, putting down her trump, also.

"Frida!" begged Axel.

"No, Axel," said she, decidedly, "I will go with you to Gurlitz, to-morrow, but I shall stop at the Pastor's."

That was the conclusion; there was no quarrel about it, but each remained fixed in the same decision. How readily and gladly would she have yielded, if she had not sat down to supper with the uneasy feeling that Axel was lacking in insight to understand a business, and in firmness to carry it out; and how readily and gladly would Axel have yielded, and stayed away from Pomuchelskopp's, if it had not been always in his mind that Pomuchelskopp was a rich man, and he must keep on good terms with him, because he might be useful; how readily and gladly he would have called at the Nüsslers', but for the foolish opinions he had imbibed, in his regiment.

But it was done; and could not be undone, the first beginning of discord had entered the house, and the door stood half-open for the rest to follow; for discord is like one of those dragon's tails that children play with, there is a long thread, and bit after bit is fastened to it, and though each bit is a mere nothing, it makes a great bunch, when it is rolled up in a heap, and it is hard to disentangle, for there is neither beginning nor end to be found.

The next afternoon they walked over to Gurlitz;--in that, Axel had yielded to Frida, who preferred walking to riding,--and Axel took his wife to the door of the parsonage, and promised to call for her; he himself went to the court.

The Pomuchelskopps were just taking coffee, and Philipping and Nanting and the other little ones were playing their tricks, and standing about the table, like colts at the rack, and dipping biscuits in the chicory-coffee, and smearing their faces, and dabbling with fingers and tea spoons in the cups, after the soaked biscuit, and writing their beautiful name. "Pomuchelskopp," in the spilt coffee and milk, all over the table, and shoving and pushing each other, and then looking up innocently at their mother, as if they were not the culprits; for Häuning, in her every-day black gown, sat with them at the table, and kept order.

It was a charming family picture, full of domestic happiness, biscuits and chicory; and Pomuchelskopp lay in the corner of the sofa, and smoked his pipe. He had finished his coffee, for father was served first, with pure coffee, out of a special coffee-pot; but it was a cheat, after all, for Malchen and Salchen, who took turns in making the coffee, always drank off the first drawing from father's, and filled it up with chicory, out of the family pot. He sat in his sofa corner, with his left leg thrown over the right, quite in accordance with Duke Adolph von Klewe's direction: "A judge should sit for judgment in this manner, with the left leg thrown over the right," etc., and if he was not a judge, he was something more important, at this very moment he was a law-maker, and thinking about the Landtag, (assembly of deputies,) which he had positively decided to attend next year.

"Häuning," said he, "next year, I am going to the Landtag."

"So?" said the old woman, "have you no other way to spend your money?"

"My Klücking, it is expected of me; I must show myself, and it will not be very expensive. The Landtag is held quite near us next year, at Malchen, and if I take a basket with me----"

"So? and I shall go round in your boots meantime, wading through the deep mud in the farm-yard, to look after the threshers?"

"My Klücking, Gustaving is here for that, and if I am needed I can be here again, at any time."

"But, father," said Malchen, who was the only one of the family who ever looked into the Rostock "Times," and for that reason, and because she always knew where the Grand Duke and the Frau Grand Duchess were, at the time being, considered herself to have a great taste for politics, for Pomuchelskopp read only the prices current, and the rate of exchange,--"but, father, if something important should come up, for instance about the red cloak, whether you burgher-proprietors may also wear red cloaks, or about the convent question, then you couldn't get away."

For she possibly had a feeling, that the convent question might become her question.

"Now, you do not really think," said Pomuchelskopp, going up and down the room with great strides, "that your father would make himself so common, and run in the same groove with all the burgher proprietors, and vote with them, and neglect his affairs at home? No, if anything is wanted here, you must write, and I will come, and if I want the red cloak, I know a better way to get it--let every man look out for himself--and it is more honorable for me, if I get it alone, and not with trumpery landlords, who have perhaps a couple of thousand thalers, and when I come back sometime, and say, Malchen, I alone have got it! then you may be proud of your father;" and with that he stalked about the room, and puffed tobacco in the eyes of his innocent children, till they looked like trumpeting angels in the clouds, who needed only a mouth-piece, with which to trumpet his future glory.

"Kopp, are you going daft?" inquired his loving wife.

"Let me alone, Häuning! Always noble! Tell me who you go with, and I will tell you who you are. If I agree with the nobility----"

"I should think you had got snubbing enough from the nobility."

"Häuning," began Pomuchelskopp, but went no further, for Salchen, who sat by the window, sewing, sprang up: "Good heavens! there comes the Herr von Rambow into the yard."

"Häuning," said Pomuchelskopp once more, and there was great reproof in his expressive eyes, "do you see the nobleman comes to me. But now, out with you! Out!" and he hunted his offspring out of the room. "Malchen, take the coffee things away! Salchen, a wiping cloth! And Häuning," folding his hands in supplication, "now go and put on another dress!"

"What?" said she, "do I go to him, or does he come to me? I am good enough for him, as he finds me."

"Häuning," begged Pomuchelskopp, abjectly, "I beseech you! you will spoil the whole thing with your black morning dress."

"Muchel, are you a perfect idiot?" she asked, not stirring from her seat, "Do you think he comes on your account, or on mine, either? He comes because he wishes to make use of us, and, for such a beggar, the old sacque is good enough."

Muchel still petitioned,---vainly. Malchen and Salchen whisked out of the room, to dress themselves up a little,--the old woman sat there, stiff as a stake.

Axel came in, and greeted the pair, and the old black sacque received as much attention as the green checked trousers, for the young Herr knew how to turn his good manners to account, at the right time, so that Pomuchelskopp was quite carried away with the friendliness and graciousness of the young nobleman, and Häuning became so cheerful and affectionate that she called her dear husband "Pöking;" yes, even the old every-day black gown grew so ashamed of its own shabbiness, in this sunshine of courtesy, that even to Frau Pomuchelskopp's eyes, it looked quite rusty. And now Salchen came in, as if she had forgotten something, and then Malchen came in, as if she had something to attend to, and Pomuchelskopp introduced them, and the courteous conversation took an artistic turn, over Salchen's embroidery, and again a political, as Malchen happened to take up the Rostock "Times." And Philipping came in, and placed himself in the corner, behind his mother, and Narting came in, and stood by Philipping, and the other little ones all came in, one after another, and crowded up beside them, till Häuning looked like our old black hen, with all her chickens huddled about her, when a hawk is in the air. And when mother took the key of the linen-closet out of the basket, and went out,--for, she said to herself, one must do something in return for so much courtesy,--the whole brood followed her, for in that linen-closet were kept the cookies, which Häuning always kept on hand, and baked fresh, twice a year. And these cookies were always very fine, only they acquired, in course of time, rather a soapy taste, as they took the flavor from the linen; but that didn't hurt them for the children, they were not fastidious, and had always been accustomed to the flavor, and if Axel had not been listening to Pomuchelskopp, he must have heard the begging and whining outside; "Mother, me!" "Mother, me too!" But Pomuchelskopp had taken possession of him, and was endeavoring to inspire him with a good opinion of himself and his family.

"You see, Herr von Rambow," said he, "you find here an extremely simple family, I am very simple, my wife--" here he looked round to see if Häuning were present--"is extremely simple, as you have seen; my daughters, my other children, have been brought up very simply. We make no pretensions, we merely live by ourselves, in a happy family-circle. Every society does not suit us, thank God, we are sufficient to ourselves; but," he added, putting on a venerable patriarchal expression, "every one must pull his own rope, each has his particular occupation, which he must attend to,--must, I say, when he has once undertaken it, and then the blessing of God will not be wanting."

Axel said, courteously, he believed that must be an excellent arrangement.

"Yes," said Pomuchelskopp, catching hold of Philipping, who had his mouth full of eight and ninety per cent cooky, and two per cent fresh soap, and presenting him to the young Herr: "Make your compliments, Philipping! You see this little fellow, he looks after the eggs, that is to say, when the hens lay astray; for every dozen eggs, he gets a shilling, and the money goes into his saving's box. Philipping, how much have you collected, already, my little son?"

"Seven thalers, and forty-three shillings,"[^[4]] said Philipping.

"You see, my boy," said Pomuchelskopp, patting his child on the head, "the blessing of God always accompanies industry; and so," turning again to Axel, "Nanting has old iron, nails, horse-shoes, etc., he gets paid for it by the pound, and Marriken and Heining and Stöffing have the apples and pears and plums, that is, the wind falls; to be sure, they are mostly unripe, but no matter, the city people buy them. So you see, Herr von Rambow, each one of my children has his own apartment."

Axel laughed in his sleeve a little, at this conclusion, and Malchen and Salchen looked at each other, and laughed secretly over their father's blunder, for Pomuchelskopp slipped occasionally, as well as Bräsig; but there was a great difference between the two. Bräsig knew very well that he made queer work of foreign words, but he had fallen into the habit of using them, and could not leave off, it pleased him, and injured nobody else; but Pomuchelskopp meant to ornament his language with them, and when he found that he had said something ludicrous, he was out of humor. When he saw his daughters laughing together, he knew this was the case, and it was fortunate that his Häuning came in, just then, with a bottle of wine, and a plate of cookies, and, to his joy, without her black sacque, in a yellow silk gown, and with a stately cap on her head.

"Häuning," said Pomuchelskopp, "not that wine! When we have such a highly honored guest, let us offer him the best we have!"

"Order it yourself, then," said the old woman, curtly. He did so, and then resumed the thread of his discourse:

"Yes, and my two eldest daughters have also each her peculiar province. Salchen is all for art, with her embroidery and piano-playing, and Malchen cares more for the newspapers and politics." Axel professed to be astonished at Malchen's taking pleasure in such things, which ladies usually cared nothing about, and Malchen replied, somebody must trouble themselves about such things, for father wouldn't, and now he was a deputy, he ought to know what was going to be done at the Landtag, adding that, just as Herr von Rambow came in, they were saying that father must go to the Landtag next year.

"Yes, Herr von Rambow," said Muchel, "I am going, for once; not on account of the business which my burgher colleagues are moving about, that does not concern me, and I know the difference between nobles and burghers, very well; no! I am only going for once, to show people who I am."

Axel then asked, for sake of saying something, if Pomuchelskopp had any intercourse with the people in the neighborhood.

"With which of them?" asked Pomuchelskopp. "With the farmer at Rexow? He is a blockhead. With the inspector? He does not suit me. And there is nobody else about here."

"Then you don't associate with the Pastor?

"No, not with him either. He has behaved in such a manner from the first, that I would have nothing to do with him; he has intercourse with people who do not suit me, and he has adopted the daughter of your inspector, Habermann, and I should be sorry for my daughters to have any acquaintance with her.

"I thought she was a very worthy girl," said Axel.

"Oh, yes, I dare say," said Pomuchelskopp. "I don't want to say anything bad of the girl,--you see, Herr von Rambow, I am a simple old man,--but I knew Habermann long ago, I will not say that he cheated me at that time, but--no! I have not been pleased at the way and the manner in which she and the young Herr von Rambow have been brought together, by her own father, and the parsonage people."

"With my cousin Franz?" asked Axel.

"Is his name Franz? I mean the one who was studying here, with Habermann. I don't know him, he never came to my house. But I liked what I heard about him."

"He is always writing to her," said Häuning.

"No, mother," said Malchen, "you mustn't say that, his letters are always to the Pastor. Our post-boy always brings the Pastor's letters with ours," she explained to Axel.

"That is all the same," said Häuning, "I beat the sack, but I mean it for the donkey."

"This is the first I have heard of the matter," said Axel, looking annoyed.

"Yes!" said Pomuchelskopp, "the whole region knows it. Under the pretence of visiting her father and your sisters, she was always running after him, and when something came between them once, Habermann and the parsonage people soon made it right again."

"No, father," said Salchen, "old Bräsig was the chief canal, he was always fetching and carrying."

"Who is this old Bräsig?" asked Axel, now really irritated.

"He is an old beggar!" cried Häuning.

"That he is," said Pomuchelskopp, puffing himself up, "he has got a little pension from the Herr Count, and now he has nothing better to do than to run from one to another, and tell tales of people; and then he is besides----"

"No, father," interrupted Malchen, "let me tell that. Herr von Rambow, the old fellow is a democrat, an out and out demo-crat!"

"That he is," continued Pomuchelskopp, "and I shouldn't wonder if he was an incendiary as well."

And this good-for-nothing subject had sat at Axel's own table, and whose fault was it? Habermann's. These communications having sufficiently heated the young gentleman's blood, and the cookies not being very tempting, he took leave and Pomuchelskopp went with him across the yard, to the gate.

"Is that really true, about my cousin?" asked Axel, as they went out together.

"Herr von Rambow," said Pomuchelskopp, "I am a simple old man, and at my age, one does not trouble himself about such stories. I merely tell you what people say."

"It can be only a passing fancy; 'out of sight, out of mind.'"

"I don't believe that," said Pomuchelskopp, very seriously; "so far as I know Habermann, he is a crafty old serpent, who always keeps a definite end in view. Your Herr Cousin is caught."

"The boy must be crazy," said Axel, "but he will be obliged to listen to reason. Farewell, Herr Neighbor! I thank you for your company so far, and hope to see you soon. Adieu!" and with that he turned towards the right, into the street.

"Begging your pardon," called Pomuchelskopp after him, "you are going the wrong way; you turn to the left to go to Pumpelhagen."

"I know it," said Axel, "I am going to the Pastor's, to call for my wife. Adieu!"

"Ah," said Pomuchelskopp, going back across the yard, "this is very nice, this is very pretty! For the young Herr, I am good enough; but for the gracious lady? Children!" cried he, as he entered the door, "the gracious lady is at the Herr Pastor's, we are not good enough for her."

"That pleases me, uncommonly, Pöking," said the old woman, "that the nobleman has put such a fine pair of leather spectacles on you."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Salchen.

"Possible indeed!" said her father, "it is certain;" and he gave Nanting and Philipping, who were running about, the remainder of the cookies, one apiece: "Out with you, baggages!" and he threw himself into the sofa corner, and struck at the flies; and the old woman teased him with invidious remarks about distinguished acquaintances, and beggars, and the nobility, and said, "Salchen, take that bottle of costly wine back to the cellar; there is some in it still, father can treat some highly honored friend with it." And after a while she called, "Father, come here to the window! See, there goes your distinguished friend, with his gracious lady--the foolish fellow! and who have they with them? Your incendiary, that old Bräsig!"

It was really so: Bräsig was walking with the pair, towards Pumpelhagen, and it did not trouble him in the least that Axel turned a cold shoulder on him, and gave him very short answers, for he was taking his delight in the gracious lady, whom he had met at the Pastor's, and whom he had found still more pleasing to-day than at the dinner.

And she might well have pleased him, or have pleased any body, as she came in, so friendly and confiding, to the Frau Pastor's parlor, where he sat with the old Herr Pastor, who was lying half sick upon the sofa; as she held back the old gentleman, who would have risen in honor of her visit, and, laying her two hands on the little Frau Pastorin's shoulders, asked if she would be mother-confessor to one who was a stranger, and needed good advice, And then turned to Bräsig, and shook hands with him as frankly, as if he were an old acquaintance. And then Louise! came in, and she greeted her also as an old acquaintance, but kept looking at her, as if there were something new to be read in her face, and grew thoughtful, as one who reads a beautiful book, and will not turn the leaf, until he fully comprehends it.

The young Frau had many leaves to turn here, and upon every leaf stood something lovely and intelligent; on the Pastor's side, stood experience, and friendliness and benevolence, and on the Frau Pastorin's stood housewifery, and enjoyment of life, and the kindest disposition, crossed over each other, and on Louise's stood modesty, and good sense, and pleasure at meeting a lady who bore that name which had become so dear to her; and on Bräsig's side, stood at first sight, only notes on the whole, but they belonged to the matter, and made it clearer, and the young Frau read these notes with as much pleasure as we sluggards used, formerly, on the pons asinorum, or ad modum Minellii, in Cornelius Nepos. And it all harmonized together, so sweetly and innocently, and there was such love and joyousness, that the gracious young lady felt as if she stood among a group of pretty children, in a lovely garden, under cool shadows of old trees, dancing Kringelkranz, and Louise stood in the ring, and reached her hand towards her, saying, "Come, now you must release me!"

Into this lovely peace Axel came, full of annoyance at the story that had been trumpeted in his ears, and vexed at having to call for his wife among such people, and Bräsig's greeting, "Good day, Herr Lieutenant!" quite overflowed the measure of his good temper. He turned shortly to the Pastor, and made some indifferent remark about the weather, but so coldly, that his manner struck like an icicle to the warm heart of his wife, and she sprang up, hastily, to take leave, that all this warm friendliness should not be chilled, as by a shower of hail in summer.

They went, but Uncle Bräsig went too, not at all disturbed by the young Herr's discourtesy; he had done nothing, and he had a good conscience, and withal he had a great opinion of his ability in entertaining people, and putting them in a good humour, when they were vexed. He limped along, therefore, by the young lieutenant, and talked to him of this and that, but did not succeed in changing the young Herr's short and cutting replies to more friendly remarks. But as the young Herr stopped, where the church path joined the street, and asked him which way he would go, it shot through his head, for the first time, that the "confounded fool" might think he wished to force himself upon them.

"Listen to me, Herr Lieutenant," said he also standing still, "this strikes me as very strange. Perhaps you are ashamed to be seen walking with me, in the public street? Then let me tell you, I was not going on your account, I was only going with your honored, gracious lady wife, because she is friendly towards me. In future, I will not incommode you," and, with a profound bow to the young lady, he started off across the rape-stubble, to Habermann, who was building a stack of rape-straw, near by.

"Axel," said Frida, "why have you grieved that good-hearted old man?"

"Your good-hearted old man is nothing but an old tattler and busybody."

"Do you really believe that? and do you think, if he were, our Habermann would be on such intimate terms with him?"

"Why not, if he is useful to him?"

The young wife looked at him half astonished, half grieved: "Axel, what is the matter with you? You were always so friendly towards everybody, and trusted everybody, what has prejudiced you so against these people? against these, too, who have always been so friendly and honest towards us?"

"Friendly? Why shouldn't they? I am the master of the estate. But honest? Time will show, and what I have heard today, does not agree very well with my conception of honesty."

"What have you heard? From whom have you heard it?" asked Frida, quickly and meaningly. "Tell me. Axel! I am your wife."

"I have heard a good deal," said Axel, in a derisive tone, "I have heard, that our Habermann, as you call him, has already been a bankrupt; and the best thing I heard about him was that he perverted the influence that he exercised as an instructor, to fasten his daughter--with the help of the parsonage people and this old go-between, whom I have just got rid of--to our cousin Franz, and"--he added, angrily and spitefully, "the stupid dunce has let himself be caught!"

Frida boiled over with indignation; by this detraction, not merely that poor child, Louise Habermann, but her whole sex was wounded to the heart, and put to shame; her eyes kindled, as she grasped Axel by arm, and made him stand still: "You have been in bad company, and have yielded to the most unworthy influences!" Her hands loosed their hold, the anger passed, and a deep sadness came over her. "Oh, Axel," cried she, "you used to be so good, how can such insinuations disturb your honest judgment?"

Axel was startled at the heat with which his wife took up the matter, he would gladly have taken back what he had said; but he had said it, and if he should make light of it now, he would seem to himself like a credulous, easily prejudiced man, and he wished to seem a decided one, so he took nothing back, but said, "Frida, what ails you? There is no denying the matter. The whole region knows that our foolish cousin has entangled himself with this girl."

"If you will express this part of your news differently, if you say that your cousin has fallen in love with this girl, I shall be glad to believe it, and your cousin, whom I do not yet know, will be so much the dearer to me."

"What? Shall my cousin, who has a large, independent fortune, marry the daughter of my inspector?"

"That is the greatest advantage of a large, independent fortune for a young man, that he is free to choose; and, truly! he has not chosen unworthily."

"And so I shall be connected with my inspector, in a sort of family relationship, and this old busybody, who has tied and twisted, and knotted the match, shall triumph? I will never, never consent to such a thing!"

"See here!" cried Frida, "it is in this part of your news, that the lies and calumny are interwoven; how is it possible for you to believe such an unlikely accusation? How can you--to say nothing of this lovely, innocent girl--suspect such a simple, old man, such an affectionate father, who finds his own happiness only in that of his daughter,--how can you suspect the worthy Pastor and his kind-hearted wife, or this poor old man, who has just left us, feeling so grieved, and to whom, in his uprightness, many an inappropriate word may be pardoned,--how can you suspect these people, of making the darling of their hearts the object of a speculation!"

"Oh, that is very easily understood," said Axel, "they wanted to insure her happiness."

"Oh," said Frida earnestly and sadly, "then we differ widely in our conception of happiness. One never obtains happiness in such ways."

"I was not speaking of my idea of happiness," said Axel, surprised at the reproach, "I meant only what these people consider happiness."

"Do not deceive yourself in this, Axel, for God's sake, do not deceive yourself! A higher rank may afford one a wider range in social relations, but in more modest circumstances, on the other hand, love is more apt to be the controlling power, which is of far higher value than mere worldly relations,--and which we must so often do without," she added slowly, and wiped a tear from her eye, as she thought of her own youthful years, without a mother, brought up by her father alone, who could poorly sustain the style of living demanded by his rank, and consoled himself, for his trouble and pains, in the amusements of country squires.

They went home, and Axel was kind to her, in his good nature, and she took the kindness as it was meant, and they were again united,--at least to outward appearance,--for on the subject of discussion each retained his own opinion.

Bräsig had gone to Habermann, who was standing by the foundation of his straw-stack; he was angry, exceedingly angry; this must be Pomuchelskopp's work; and his irritation could only be put out by a counter-irritation, he had a real hankering after a little farm-boy anger.

"Good day, Karl," said he, and pushing by Habermann, he bent his head, elevated his eyebrows, looked hard at the stack, and without raising himself up, stalked entirely round it.

"Are you going to bake a pancake, here?" he asked his friend, when he had completed his journey, and placed himself saucily before him.

"Ah, don't talk to me about it!" cried Habermann, out of humor, "I have vexed myself enough over it. I said yesterday to Triddlesitz he should lay the stack twenty paces through-measure, and he has laid it twenty paces half-measure, and, when I came out to-day, here stood this monster. Well, let it go; it is nothing but straw, even if it should get spoiled by the rain; but I cannot help being provoked to see such a pancake on my field."

"Yes, Karl, and your neighbor Pomuchelskopp will be cracking his jokes on it."

"Let him! But what to do with my Triddelsitz, I don't know. Since the time that the young Herr promised him a horse, he is of no mortal use."

"Try giving him a good flogging!"

"Ach, what good would that do? He can think of nothing but horses. He doesn't consult me, now-a-days, but our young Herr has advised him to get an English brood mare, and says he will buy the colts. And I sent him off this morning,--he is not to be talked out of it,--to make an end of the matter, and get his old mare."

"Gust Prebberow's chestnut mare, the Whalebone mare?"

"Yes, that must be the one."

"Splendid!" cried Bräsig, "Beautiful! And he will exercise about on this horse, when the Grand Duke enters Rahnstadt? Karl, you have a great treasure in your greyhound!"

"Yes, Lord knows," said Habermann, looking at his stack.

"I say nothing of him as a farmer, Karl, I speak of him merely as an agreeable fellow, and if he agrees with his young master----"

"Bräsig, don't speak of my master here, before the laborers."

"I agree with you there, Karl, it is not proper; but come this way!"

And when they had gone a little way towards the street, he stood still, and said, slowly and impressively, "Karl, this young fellow thought it something to be ashamed of, to be seen walking with me on the highway. What do you say now? He gave me a Timothy, in the presence of his lovely wife;" and he related the circumstances. Habermann tried to talk him out of his anger, but did not wholly succeed, for Bräsig was too much provoked. "Karl," said he, "he has shot the arrow, in his stupidity, but it was pointed by Zamel Pomuchelskopp, for he had been calling there. And you may say what you will, Karl,--your young Herr is downright stupid, and when you are hunted away, then I shall amuse myself coming over here, and place myself on the hill, where I can overlook the fields, and see what sort of performances your young Herr and your greyhound carry on together."

"Well," said Habermann, "you can see one of them, at this moment. Just look round!" and he pointed down the road, near which they happened to be standing, behind a thorn-bush. Bräsig looked, and stood stiff and stark with amazement, unable to utter a word; at last he said, "Karl, your greyhound is cracked. Apothecaries are often crackbrained, and it is natural their children should inherit it."

It really looked, as if Bräsig were right. Fritz came riding up, on the famous horse, on a gentle trot. He had taken off his hat, and was swinging it violently in the air, and shouting with all his might, "Hurrah! Hurrah!" and all this, entirely by himself; for he did not perceive the two behind the thorn-bush, until he had ridden up to them, and Habermann asked if he were clean out of his head.

"They are nothing but lies," said Fritz.

"What are lies?" asked Habermann, sharply.

"That the mare cannot hear hurrahs," and with that he began to cry "Hurrah!" again. "You see," and he sprang off the horse, and tied it to a willow, and going off a few steps, again cried "Hurrah!" "You see, she does not budge an inch. And you"--he turned to Bräsig, who was half dead with laughter, "you told me so; but it isn't true!"

"Yes," said Bräsig, shaking all over, "but it is true, though. What I said, I say again: she cannot hear it, for the old granny has been, these five years that I have known her, stone deaf."

There stood Fritz Triddelsitz, the old clever, crafty Fritz Triddelsitz, wearing the most sheepish face imaginable.

"But," said he, at last, "Gust Prebberow is a good friend of mine, and he never told me that."

"Yes," said Bräsig, "you will know, after this, that friendship goes for nothing, in a horse trade."

"Well, never mind, Triddelsitz," said Habermann, "one can get along with a deaf horse; take care not to get a dumb one!"

"Oh!" said Fritz, quite relieved, "no fear of that! Just look at her, what a model of a horse! Full blood! And Herr von Rambow is going to buy all the colts, and when I have sold three or four----"

"Then you can buy an estate," interrupted Bräsig. "Yes, we know that, already. Now ride carefully up to the house, and don't upset your milk-pails, on the way, like the maiden. Karl, do you remember? In Gellert?"

Fritz rode off. "Good-for-nothing greyhound!" said Bräsig.

"Well, I don't know," said Habermann, "I cannot help liking the old fellow, he has such a contented disposition."

"That is because of his youth, Karl," said Bräsig.

"Well, perhaps so," said Habermann, reflectively. "See, there he goes, quite happy with his deaf, old, brood mare."