"I have been waiting a long time," the miller said.
Landolin did not consider it necessary to excuse himself; he thought people must be satisfied with all he did, and the way in which he did it.
The miller poured out some of the wine which stood on the table, and, after touching glasses, Landolin said:
"We have really nothing more to arrange. You know what division Peter must make when he takes the estate. The money I have promised I will pay down the day before the wedding. The five acres of forest which I have bought, which border on your land, and are properly no part of my farm, I now give to Thoma to be hers in her own right. You have no one but your son, so there is nothing more to be said. Of course, you will not marry again?"
The miller smiled sadly, and said at length:
"Then give your hands to one another in God's name, and may happiness and blessing be yours for all time."
The lovers clasped each other's hands firmly, and so did the fathers and mother.
The betrothed drank from the same glass; and it was a good omen that Thoma did not take from his hand the glass, which Anton held out to her, but drank whilst he held it.
Landolin might have spoken, but he remained silent. It is not necessary for him to speak. Is he not Landolin? He even looked suspiciously at the miller. He did not esteem him highly, for every one praised his good nature, and Landolin was inclined to consider good nature as one kind of rascality.
"Father-in-law," said Anton, "whenever you come to our house you will find joy there, for as surely as our brook will never flow up the mountain side, so surely will Thoma's thoughts never turn toward her old home in discontent."