The laborers left their work and hastened to meet her, and there were many kind greetings and questions: the head carter stopped his horses, and the grey mare tossed her head. "She knows you well," said the man, cracking his whip gaily.
Ilse went into the village, to pay a tribute of respect to the dead and to visit the living. It was with difficulty that she could get away from the invalid Benz, and when at last she did so, he called for his slate, and with trembling hands gave expression to his joy in poetry. She then made a careful inspection of the farm-yard. Accompanied by a train of maids, she walked between the rows of cattle, in spite of her fashionable dress, like the legendary Frau Berchta, who scattered blessings throughout the stable and house. She stopped before every horned head; the cows raised their mouths to her, lowing; and there was some important news to tell of each. The maids proudly showed her the young calves, and begged her to give names to the grown-up heifers--for the proprietor had desired that these young ones should be named by Ilse--and she gave them the distinguished names of Kalypso and Xantippe. All was familiar, all as formerly, and yet at every step there was something new to eye and ear.
Clara showed her household accounts: the young girl had kept them admirably. The praises which were bestowed upon her by the house-keeper and by the dairy maid, in confidential conversations, gave Ilse great pleasure, and she said: "Now, I am quite satisfied you can do without me here."
Towards evening the Professor sought his wife, who had been absent some hours. He heard the noise of the children by the brook, and guessed where Ilse was. When he turned round the rock by the cave he saw her sitting in the shadow, her eyes turned to her father's house. He called her name, and stretched out his arms towards her; she flew to his bosom, and said, softly: "I know that my home is in your heart; bear with me, when old recollections crowd upon my mind and move me deeply."
At night, when her father conducted the Professor to his bedroom, still conversing with him upon business and politics, Ilse sent her sister Clara to bed, and seated herself in her chair. When her father came in to fetch his candle from the table, he found Ilse again in her old place, waiting to bid him good night, while she handed him the candle stick. He placed it on the table, and, walking up and down the room, as he had done of yore, began, "You are paler and more serious than you used to be. Will that pass?"
"I hope it will," replied his daughter. After a time she continued, "They believe and think very differently in the city from what we do, father."
The father nodded. "That was the reason I was anxious about you."
"And it is impossible for me to free myself from painful thoughts," said Ilse, softly.
"Poor child," said the father, "it passes my powers to help you. For us, in the country, it is easy to believe in a father's care, when one goes across the fields and sees the growth of everything. But let a simple countryman say a word in confidence to you. Moderation and self-renunciation are necessary in all earthly concerns. We are not better in the country and more sensible because we care little for what is mysterious to man. We have no time for subtle inquiries, and if a thought alarms us, our work helps to dispel our doubts. But thoughts return frequently. I have had days--and have still--when my brains have been on the rack, although I knew that no good would come of it; therefore I now endeavor to keep such thoughts away. This is prudence, but it is not courage. You are placed in a sphere in which hearing and reflecting are unavoidable. You must struggle through it, Ilse. But do not forget two things: on difficult subjects men take very different points of view, and on that account they have, from the most ancient times, hated and slaughtered each other like cannibals, merely because each considered himself in the right. This should be a warning to us. There is only one thing effectual against doubts: to do your duty and concern yourself with what lies in your daily path; for the rest, do not despair because one thinks differently from another. Are you sure of your husband's love?"
"Yes," replied Ilse.