Her next wish was that we should all go out into the fields, for she felt sure that Rothfuss would not be able to control Martella, who, she feared, might run away and rush into suffering or death.
Richard said that he would be able to assist Rothfuss, and that he knew the direction in which they had gone.
He hurried away to meet them.
"You had better go in and join them," we heard Richard say as he left the house, and then he ran off on his errand.
A moment later, Annette joined us. Although usually quite courtly in her manner, she was now diffident and timid, and in heartfelt tones begged us to consider her as one of us, and permit her to assist in bearing our affliction.
My wife extended her arms towards her, and for the first time embraced and kissed Annette.
"I have brought smelling-salts and other restoratives," said Annette in a cheerful tone, while the thick tears were running down her cheeks. "But, dear Madame Gustava, you need nothing of that kind; you are as firm as a forest-tree."
"Ernst will never again return to his forest," complained my wife.
Neither Bertha nor I were able to utter a word, but Annette said to my wife, "You have a right to indulge in the deepest grief. I shall never attempt to persuade you otherwise. I know how galling it is when friends come and imagine that they can console us by smoothing over or belittling our griefs. It is well, after all, that I am with you. It is indeed true that I only feel your sorrows through sympathy, while the blow itself has descended on your heads. With all my sincere sympathy, there are hours when I can forget your sorrows, and am thus better able to be of use to you."
My wife again took Annette's hand and pressed it to her own forehead.