She arose and waved her hand to them, and then called out, taking care they should not hear her:
"Buy yourselves dolls at the fair."
Anton remained seated, and a cloud passed over his face, for it pained him that Thoma should greet them so scornfully.
A messenger came from the inn to say that Landolin had arrived. The hostess met them at the door, and said:
"Your friends are all up stairs in the corner room. Good luck to you!"
CHAPTER IX.
The hostess of the "Sword"--it so happens that every one speaks of the hostess and not of the host, and her husband seems to be quite satisfied with it--this wise woman, according to a plan of her own, had changed and enlarged the old inn until it was twice as large as before. For, as soon as a spot had been fixed upon for a railway station, she had a new building added on the side toward the river, with a large summer hall and verandas, where the people of rank in the village could hold their summer gatherings in the open air. The corner room of the house, on the town side, she arranged especially for betrothal festivities. There was a great mirror, in which people could survey themselves at full length--to be sure not always an advantage. There were colored prints of young lovers, of marriages, of christenings, and of golden weddings.
At the table sat the miller and Landolin's wife, and waited long for the farmer. The miller was annoyed, and Landolin's wife did not know what to say, for she could not deny that her husband probably kept the miller waiting intentionally, in order to show him who was the more important.
The miller had an earnest, good-natured face, and a thoughtfulness in every word and gesture. He had a high regard for the farmer's wife, and expressed it to her. She looked down, abashed, for she was not used to being praised, and became silent. The miller, too, ceased talking, and whistled gently to himself.
At length Landolin's step was heard, and following him came Thoma and Anton. Landolin shook hands with the miller.