"What is it? what is the matter?" asked Lenz.
"Nothing, nothing at all; I don't know why I stood up. I mean I am not comfortably seated; now I am more at ease. It is very agreeable to drive in our carriage, is it not?"
"Yes, very; it is as easy as an armchair, and yet you can see round you in all directions. It is so pleasant to drive, and it is the first time I ever was in a carriage of my own; for your father's seems mine also."
"Certainly."
The first excursion of the betrothed couple had not been quite so amusing as they had expected, but still both brought home with them much that was pleasant. Annele said very little, and it was evident that something unusual was occupying her mind.
It was still bright daylight when they arrived at home. Lenz assisted Annele out of the carriage, and let her go in first by herself. He then took out the parcel he had so carefully wrapped up, and when he was in the house he called Annele into the back parlour.
There the mystery was unravelled by these words:—"Annele, I here present you with the nearest and dearest object I possess on earth; my excellent friend Pilgrim gave it to me, and now it shall be yours."
Annele gazed intently at the portrait, for which Lenz had secretly ordered a frame in the town.
"Ah! I see you cannot speak, because my mother is looking at you!"
"So that is your mother? It is certainly her gown, and her cap and handkerchief, but as for your mother herself? No, it might just as well be old Annelise the carpenter's wife, or Faller's wife; indeed, I think it is very like the latter. What makes you look so pale all of a sudden? as if every drop of blood had left your cheeks? My good Lenz, would you have me tell an untruth? I am sure you would not; and how can you help it? Pilgrim never could do a thing well in his life. He has no talent for anything, except for painting his everlasting church towers."