For some time past Hawermann had been a great deal from home on his master's business, and when he returned for a few days he had too much to do about the farm to have time to attend to anything else. He had, it is true, gone to see his sister once or twice, and had comforted her by assuring her that the governess was ill, and would of course soon get well again, but once when he came home he found that the doings at Rexow were the talk of the whole neighbourhood. He was told that young Joseph's sleeping Mademoiselle had run away with the Baron von Mallerjahn, and that before she left she had infected Bräsig with the gift of prophecy, and Christian with that of sleeping, so that Bräsig now prophesied as he went about, and Christian could sleep standing.
Hawermann went to Mr. Behrens, asked him to tell him the rights of the story, and to accompany him to his sister's house. "With pleasure, Hawermann, I'll go with you gladly," said the clergyman, "but, to tell you the truth, I have not taken any notice of the affair on principle. I know that many of my brethren in Christ have tried the effect of exorcism when such cases have fallen under their notice, but in my opinion, in illnesses of this kind, the doctor is the proper person to consult, and sometimes," he added with a sly smile, "the police are of more use than any one else."
When they reached Rexow, they found Mrs. Nüssler, who was generally able to see the bright side of everything, looking sad and weary. "Oh, Mr. Behrens! My dear brother Charles!" she said. "That was a dreadful woman, and I have been in great distress about her, but indeed, all the governesses that I have tried have been dreadful people. That isn't the worst of it. I shall get over that in time. What makes me miserable is that my dear good little girls know nothing, and are learning nothing. I can't bear to think that the time may come when my children may have to sit silently amongst other young people of their own age and standing, because they are too ignorant to join in the conversation, and that perhaps they won't even be able to write a letter! Ah, reverend Sir, you who are so learned can't understand how bitterly one feels one's ignorance when one is in the company of people of one's own station who have been properly educated, but I can understand it, and so can you, Charles. Oh, Mr. Behrens, I'd rather send my little girls away to school, though it would break my heart to part with them, and Joseph and I would feel lost in the house without them, than that they should grow up stupid and ignorant. When Louisa comes here she can answer our questions sensibly, and she can read Joseph's newspapers. Mina can also read, but when she comes to a foreign word she has to spell it out. The other day Louisa read to us about 'Bordoe,' and that I suppose is the right way to call the town, but Mina said 'B-o-r-d Board, e-a-x oaks,' and what was the sense of calling it 'Boardoaks' when it is always pronounced 'Bordoe?'"
During this long address of Mrs. Nüssler's the clergyman rose, and walked thoughtfully up and down the room, at last he stood still and said: "I have a proposal to make to you, neighbour. Perhaps Louisa is farther advanced than your children, perhaps not. You need not part with your little girls, if you will send them to me, and let me teach them."--Whether Mrs. Nüssler had an undefined hope that her difficulties would be ended in this way, or whether it was an utter surprise to her, cannot be known, but this at any rate is certain, that the relief was like a sudden turning from darkness to light. She looked at the pastor with her frank blue eyes, and exclaimed: "Oh, Sir!" and springing from her chair she went on: "Joseph, Joseph, did you hear? Mr. Behrens says he will teach our little girls!"--Joseph had heard, and had also risen. He wanted to say something, but not being able to find the right words he just tried to seize the clergyman's hand, and when he had got hold of it, he pressed it, and drawing Mr. Behrens to the sofa, made him sit down by the little supper-table, and then when Mrs. Nüssler and Hawermann had told the good man how happy he had made them all, young Joseph said: "Mother, give the pastor a glass of beer."
So Mina and Lina became daily guests at Gürlitz parsonage. They were still as like each other as two peas, except that Lina as the eldest was a small half inch taller than Mina, and Mina was a good half inch rounder than Lina, and, if you looked very particularly, you could see that Mina's nose was rather more of a snub than Lina's.
And now we return to when the three little girls were having their sewing-lesson in Mrs. Behrens' parlour, on the day that the Pomuchelskopps came to pay their first visit at the parsonage, for as soon as the clergyman had finished his morning-lessons, his wife began her share of the children's education.
"Goodness gracious me!" cried Mrs. Behrens, running into the parlour. "Put away your sewing, children. Louisa, carry it all into my bed-room. Mina, pick up all the threads and scraps that have fallen on the carpet. Lina, put the chairs in order. The new squire is coming through the church-yard with his wife and daughters, and will be here in a minute--and my pastor hasn't come back from the christening at Warnitz!" As she spoke, she involuntarily caught up her duster, but put it down again immediately, for there was a knock at the door, and on her calling out "come in," Pomuchelskopp, his wife, and his two daughters, Amalia and Rosalia entered.
Pomuchelskopp tried to make a polite bow as he came in, but failed, owing to his style of figure being of the unbending order, and said: "We have done ourselves the honour of waiting upon Mr. and Mrs. Behrens--and--and--hope to have the pleasure of making their acquaintance, now--now--that we are such near neighbours."--Mrs. Pomuchelskopp stood behind her lord as stiff and straight as if she had swallowed the poker, and Mally and Sally in their bright silk dresses looked, in contrast with the three little girls in their washed out cotton-frocks, like gay butterflies beside common grubs.
Now although Mrs. Behrens was very confidential with her friends, her manner to strangers was rather formal, and in her husband's absence it was even more dignified than it would otherwise have been, so she drew herself up, and her lilac cap-ribbons rose and fell under her firm little chin with every word she spoke, as much as to say, "I am a person to be treated with respect."--"The honour," she said, "is on our side. I am sorry that my pastor is not at home.--Won't you sit down?"--And she signed to Mr. and Mrs. Pomuchelskopp to seat themselves on the sofa under the gallery of portraits, and the picture of our Saviour with His hands raised to bestow the blessing, which, like the rain and sunshine, falls alike on the just and the unjust.
While the elder people talked about indifferent subjects upon which there could be no diversity of opinion, Louisa went up to the two young ladies, and shook hands with them, and the twins followed her example.--Now Mally and Sally were eighteen and nineteen years old, but they were not at all pretty, for Sally's complexion was of an unwholesome greenish gray colour, and Mally was her father's own child. They had--alas--quite finished their education, and had been at the Whitsun and Trinity balls in Rostock, so that their interests were of course far removed from those of the little girls, and as they were not particularly good-natured, they rather snubbed the children. And the little girls either not wishing it to be remarked, or thinking it was all right and proper, would not allow themselves to be repulsed by cold answers, and Louisa said to Mally with great eyes of admiration: "Oh, what a pretty dress you have on!"--All ladies however highly educated are pleased with remarks of this kind, so Mally thawed a little, and answered with a smile: "It is only an old gown, my new one cost thirty shillings more with the trimming and making."--"Papa gave us our new dresses for the Trinity ball. Oh, how we did dance to be sure!" added Sally.--Louisa knew the proper services for Trinity Sunday, but she had never in all her life heard of a Trinity ball, and besides that, she had no very clear idea of what a ball was, for although Mrs. Behrens had often spoken of what she had done in the days of her youth, and had also confessed to having been at a ball, still when Louisa asked what a ball was, she answered with all the dignity of a clergyman's wife, that it was "a very silly kind of amusement," and alluded to the subject no more.--Lina and Mina knew even less about it than she did. Their mother had of course danced now and then when she was a girl, but only at dances got up on the spur of the moment; and as for young Joseph, he had certainly been at a ball once, but then he had stopped at the door of the dancing-room, for he was so overwhelmed with shyness when he got there, that he beat a speedy retreat without venturing further; and uncle Bräsig had described it to them in a totally incomprehensible manner, as a number of white dresses with red and green ribbons, clarionets and flutes, waltzes and quadrilles, and a great many glasses of punch. When uncle Bräsig told them this, he used to show them, with his own short legs, the difference between a glissade and a hop, and that made them laugh heartily, and was great fun, but what it all had to do with a "ball," a ball such as their last governess had taken away from Mina, they could not comprehend.