Without raising her eyes she asked: "Then why did you do it?"
Trautvetter hesitated a moment, then he said gently: "I thought I was doing you a pleasure, Frau Lisbeth."
The young woman looked him full in the face for an instant. Then she stood up quickly, took her washing-basket, and departed.
Henke had been awaiting her at home anxiously. He had just engaged in a love-affair with a music-hall singer, who had been entertaining the country people of the neighbourhood with her ditties during the August cattle-market season. "Countess Miramara" was a great success on the boards, for her costume reached upwards and downwards only just as far as was absolutely necessary; but she repelled the advances of the farmers, though they jingled persuasively the coin they had received in exchange for their oxen and pigs. She preferred to distinguish with her favour the handsome black-bearded trumpeter.
Henke now wanted to show himself a gallant lover. He intended to present the countess with a bracelet.
"Give me the money!" he cried to Lisbeth when she entered.
"I have none," she replied. "Trautvetter won't give me any more."
Henke tugged at his beard. This was a fatal upset to his calculations. What would the countess say if he broke his promise?
He began quietly; "Oh, yes, he'll give you some! You must just be a bit nice to him."
Lisbeth looked surprised. "What do you mean?" she said.