Young Jochen sat in his chimney-corner smoking. Young Bauschan lay under his chair, but with his head far enough out to look at young Jochen. Young Jochen looked at him, but said nothing, and Bauschan said nothing.
It was very quiet and peaceful, in the Rexow house, on this December afternoon; there was only one thing which rattled and creaked, that was Frau Nüssler's arm-chair, in which she sat by the window; and every time that she took up a stitch, it made a note of it; for which it should not be blamed, for she squeezed it without mercy, since she had become, with time, what one calls a stout woman. But, to-day, the old chair creaked more than usual, for Frau Nüssler had been knitting, in deep thought, and her thoughts became more and more earnest, and oppressed her soul, and the chair and its creaking became louder and louder. "Dear heart!" said she, laying her knitting in her lap, "why must it be so, in this world, that one's misfortune should be another's happiness! Jochen, do you know what I have just thought of?"
"No," said young Jochen, and looked at Bauschan; Bauschan didn't know, either.
"Jochen, what would you think, if Gottlieb should offer himself for the Gurlitz parish? Gottlieb is but a farthing candle, compared with our old Herr Pastor; but somebody must get the parish, why not he as well as another?"
Jochen said nothing.
"If Pomuchelskopp is against him, and our people and the Warnitzers in his favor, it will depend merely on the Pumpelhagen Herr. What do you say, Jochen?"
"Yes," said Jochen, "it is all as true as leather;" and, because the matter interested him uncommonly, he spoke further, and said, "what shall we do about it?"
"Ah," said Frau Nüssler, "there is no use in talking to you. I wish Bräsig were only here, he could give us advice," and she resumed her knitting.
"Well," she exclaimed, half an hour later, "speak of the wolf, and he is not far off; there comes Bräsig, driving up the yard. And who has he with him? Rudolph,--now just think of it, Rudolph! Why should Rudolph come to-day? Jochen, now do me a single favor,--the old fellow is doing so nicely,--don't go and distress him with your foolish chatter!" With that she ran to the door, to receive her guests.
But she had delayed too long over her preface, for, as she came out, Mining lay in Rudolph's arms.