Lenz thanked the Doctor, who went away with his family.
When they were all fairly gone, the Landlady stayed in the kitchen with Franzl, and could not say enough in praise of the neatness and regularity, and orderly state in which everything there was kept. "But, indeed, you are now in the place of a mother in this house," said she, with one of her magpie cackles (as Pilgrim called the worthy woman's laugh); "you well deserve that Lenz should have a high opinion of you, and entrust you with all his keys and belongings, and have no secret hid from you."
"Indeed, he has none almost—only one."
"Really! is it possible? May I ask what it is?"
"I don't quite know myself: when he came home from the funeral, he was rummaging in the next room in a press, of which his mother always kept the key herself, and when I called out to him, he shut the door in my face; and after searching for some time, he locked up every thing again, and when he leaves the house he always tries the lock of the press, to see whether it is fast. He is not at all mistrustful naturally."
The Landlady inwardly chuckled and gave a little sharp laugh: "All right, no doubt the old woman has hoarded up a stocking full of gold; who knows how much? Come to see me," said the Landlady in a condescending manner. "I hope you will come whenever you like, and if you want to borrow anything, I shall never forgive you so long as I live, if you go to any other house but mine for it. Your brother often arrives at our door with his cart of shingles; can I give him any message from you?"
"Yes! I think he might sometimes come here to look after me."
"Rely upon my telling him so; and if he has not time I will send for you. Many Kunslingers come to us,—they are sensible people,—at least I like to talk to them best of all. If the Kunslingers were only rich, they would be famed far and near. They often speak of you, and are pleased when I tell them how highly you are respected here."
The Landlady drew breath; Franzl stood looking at her, and would gladly have lent her some of her own breath, but she had scarcely any left; she laid her hand on her heart, to show her agitation, for speak she could not: but what has happened all of a sudden in the kitchen? It seems as if merry Kunslinger faces were laughing from all the crockery, and the handsome shining copper kettle, and pans, had become trumpets, and playing loudly, and the funnels puffing and blowing, and the pretty white china coffeepot sticking its arm in its side, dancing like the Bürgermeister's wife—Franzl's godmother. Heavens! it tumbles! but Franzl luckily caught the obstreporous coffeepot before it fell.
The Landlady rose, and concluded by saying, "Now, God be with you, Franzl! It does one good to have a chat with a good old friend once more. I am far more at my ease with you here, than in the other room with the Doctor, and his upsetting young ladies, who can do nothing but play the piano, and give themselves airs. Good bye, Franzl!"