Franzl apologised, and wished to return home immediately, for she felt as if she were an intruder; this seemed to satisfy the Landlady. She did not wish the simple creature to perceive what was going on, and thought that Franzl should feel herself highly honoured if she bestowed a few minutes on her. It was far better that she should give them a thousand thanks, than that they should owe her one. As Franzl was actually here, the Landlady insisted on her coming into the back parlour, to wait there for a little, till the busy lady could find time to come to her. Franzl did not venture to take a chair, but stood respectfully at the door, staring up at the huge presses that reached the ceiling.
At last the Landlady came and said, smoothing her gown: "So, now I have made all right, and I can have a nice quiet hour's chat with an old friend. What is more precious in the world, no matter how rich one may be?"
Franzl felt herself highly honoured. She was desired to sit down beside the Landlady, close to her in fact, on the sofa, and a maid brought in coffee and pastry.
Franzl simpered as in duty bound, and indeed far more than there was the slightest occasion for, and tried her best to pour all the cream that the Landlady wished to give her into her hostess's cup, till the latter said, "I shall be really quite angry if you stand on such ceremony."
At the second cup, Franzl had to tell how matters were going on up at the Morgenhalde, and she declared—that Lenz worked as hard as if he had no bread in the house, and yet they had stores of everything; he seldom left the house except to go to Faller's, whom he was assisting to furnish his house, for the purchase of which he had become security; that he had given Faller a bed and bedding, and sent his mother's Sunday dress to Faller's mother. If he did not soon get some one to take the keys from him, he would give away everything; but he was most frugal, and even parsimonious, where he was himself concerned. "He neither smokes nor drinks; he neither takes snuff nor gambles; he requires very little for himself;" said Franzl to his honour.
After the Landlady had once more sufficiently sung the praises of the Kunslingers, who know everything, she said cursorily:—"Do you know, my good Franzl, it is said that your master—or rather I should say your son, for he is more like your son than your master—intends to marry the Doctors daughter; I mean the one who is always sorting herbs. Is there anything in it?"
"I think there is."
"Really?"
"That is, I don't think it well can be; but Pilgrim has been talking to him about it, but Lenz does not seem to care, and I believe they are at two about it."
"So! well, I am not sorry. I always say that Lenz knows what he wishes. It would be much better if he did as you wish, and married the Bailiff's Kathrine."