"Where are you going so soon?" Peter was asked. The questioner was Fidelis, his former servant, who was now in Titus' service.
"Glad I've met you. Is Titus at home, and----?"
He was probably about to say, "and his daughter too." But he kept that part of it back. Fidelis said "Yes;" and without wasting another word on him, Peter rode on.
Titus' farmhouse was not so isolated as Landolin's; there were several cottages near by. Titus had bought the houses and fields from----emigrants, and had added them to his farm. The gates were wide open, and things were going on merrily inside. A large hog had just been killed, and Titus' daughter stood beside it with her sleeves rolled up.
"There comes Peter of Reutershöfen," said the butcher, taking a knife from between his teeth. "What does he want so soon? His mother was only buried yesterday."
Peter called out welcome to Titus' daughter, and jumping nimbly from his horse, he held out his hand to her. But she said her hands were wet; she could not give him one; and she disappeared.
Peter went into the living-room, where Titus sat at a large table, figuring on some papers that lay before him.
"Oh, that's you!" he called out to Peter; "you're come just in time for butcher's soup. Sit down."
Peter did not use much ceremony, but told his wish. His mother was dead; his father had gone to see Anton to-day to straighten out matters for Thoma again; and was going to give up the farm and live with her at the saw-mill. "So," said Peter, in conclusion, "you know what I want. I need a wife."
"You go ahead quickly," replied Titus; "but I have no objection. Have you already spoken to Marianne?"