The Landlord growled out—"Hum! Hum!"
That was a high compliment; and he nodded and drew in his under lip, as if he was tasting good wine.
"Very good!" said he, at last, in a pedantic tone, spreading out both hands as if he were scattering the praise letter by letter. "Very good, indeed!" These were important words, pronounced by such a man!
The Landlady crossed her hands on her breast, and looked at Lenz with unparalleled admiration. "Well!—really I—to think that a man can make a thing so cleverly, and such a young man too! and he stands there just as if he was no better than the others. Remain just so. The best ornament to a great artist is modesty. Go on your course—make more instruments like that: you can do so if you like, I can tell you."
After this speech, she looked pleasantly at the Doctor's wife, inwardly rejoicing thus:—"I suppose that stick of a woman—that hoppole—can't speak a word; and if she were to speak, what would she say? It is rather different, I imagine, when I say anything!"
Annele, too, took courage, and said—"You completed that fine clock while your good mother was still alive, and her blessing rests on it. I can easily understand how hard you must find it, to send it away into the wide world. Do you know what has just occurred to me? You must bring me that favourite tune of yours, and I will learn to play it on the piano."
"I can lend you the piece," said the Doctor's eldest daughter, who had heard Annele's last words.
"But we only have it arranged as a duett," said the second daughter.
"And I have only two hands," said Annele, pertly. The girls would have gone on talking together if the Doctor had not looked at them gravely, and made them a sign to be quiet, for the second piece was about to begin.
When it was finished, they all went into the next room. Franzl had placed on the table, cheese, wine, and bread and butter. The Landlord said—"Lenz, tell me, honestly, for I don't mean to take advantage of it, how much do you get for this musical instrument?"