"Did Habermann arrange it so?"
"Habermann? No, he had nothing to do with it; I felt the necessity of emancipating myself finally from the supervision of my inspector, and I have signified to him that I would get in this harvest without his help."
"Axel, what have you done! The man cannot suffer that."
"He must, though! He must become aware that I am the master of the estate."
"He has always recognized you as such. Dear Axel, this will be a source of bitter sorrow to us," and she leaned back in her chair in deep thought, looking straight before her. Axel was not in a good humor: then the door opened, and Daniel Sadenwater brought a letter: "With the Herr Inspector's compliments."
"There it is!" said Frida.
Axel read the letter: "The Herr Inspector gives notice to leave at Christmas. May go at once. I need no Inspector. Can get a hundred for one. But it provokes me that he should give me notice, and that I did not get the start of him!" and with that he sprang up, and ran up and down the room. Frida sat still, and said not a word. Axel took that for a reproof, for he knew very well that he was in a dangerous path; but he would not allow himself to confess it, he must lay the blame of his fault upon other shoulders, and so he said, in his injustice:
"But that comes from your prejudice in favor of the old, pretentious hypocrite!"
Frida said not a word, but she rose quietly, and left the room.
She sat that evening, by the cradle of her little daughter, and rocked her darling to sleep. Ah, if thoughts could only be rocked to sleep! But a child comes from our Lord, and has yet a bit of heaven's own peace in itself, which it has brought from above; human thoughts come from the earth, and care and sorrow dog their uncertain, weary feet, and an over-wearied man can not sleep. Yes, Axel was right, he could get another inspector, a hundred for one. But Frida was also right: a true heart was to leave her.