"Confounded rascal!" said Bräsig, rubbing his eyes, and he went back to the window, and drummed the Dessauer, for he was the only one who was not surprised at this announcement. The others stood there, confounded.
"Good Heavens!" cried Frau Nüssler, "what is this?"
"What?" cried Jochen, "Mining, did he say?"
"Good gracious, Jochen, don't talk so much!" cried Frau Nüssler, "Mining, what is this, what does this mean?"
But Mining lay on Rudolph's breast, as white and still, as if she would never raise her head, or speak another word. Kurz had comprehended the matter at once, he had quickly ciphered out in his head a couple of examples in arithmetic, of which Jochen's property furnished the principal items, and he found the result so satisfactory, that he began to dance again, this time, however, not like the Polish bears, but like a wild Indian executing a war-dance, and Bräsig drummed the measure. Rector Baldrian's face was the one quiet point, in all this general excitement, for it looked as uncomprehensive as mine would, if I were poring over a Hebrew Bible.
"What is this, what does this mean?" cried Frau Nüssler again, sinking into a chair. "Both my two! Both my little girls in one and the same day! And you said," turning upon Bräsig, "that you would look after them!"
"Frau Nüssler," said Bräsig, "have I not looked after them, till all my bones were sore? But there is no harm done, so far as I can see. What do you say to it, Jochen?"
"I have nothing to say; my blessed mother always said: A candidate and a governess----"
"Jochen," cried Frau Nüssler, "you will talk me dead, and you learned this very chattering from Rudolph, the rascal!"
"Blockhead!" exclaimed Kurz, dancing about the pair, "why didn't you tell me that, in the first place? I would have forgiven you anything, on account of this little--this dear little daughter!" and he lifted up Mining's head, and kissed her.