"She raised her head, looked at me from head to foot, and continued in a calm tone of voice, 'I scarcely remember the beginning of our acquaintance, but for some time you have been calling more and more frequently, and we have become accustomed to you. Nobody will deny that you have an honest heart, but you are weak and always interested in matters of secondary importance, so that you are hardly capable of managing your own affairs. It is therefore the duty of your friends and acquaintances to look out for you, in order that people may not take advantage of you. Frequently you sit here in the store half the day, counting and weighing, measuring and bargaining, but what good does that do you? How do you expect to make your living in future?' I mentioned the inheritance from my father. 'I suppose it's quite large,' she said. I named the amount. 'That's much and little,' she replied. 'Much to invest, little to live upon. My father made you a proposition, but I dissuaded you. For, on the one hand, he has lost money himself in similar ventures, and on the other hand,' she added with lowered voice, 'he is so accustomed to take advantage of strangers that it's quite possible he wouldn't treat friends any better. You must have somebody at your side who has your interests at heart.' I pointed to her. 'I am honest,' she said, laying her hand upon her heart. Her eyes, which were ordinarily of a greyish hue, shone bright blue, the blue of the sky. 'But I'm in a peculiar position. Our business yields little profit, and so my father intends to set himself up as an innkeeper. Now that's no place for me, and nothing remains for me, therefore, but needlework, for I will not go out as a servant.' As she said this she looked like a queen. 'As a matter of fact I've had another offer,' she continued, drawing a letter from her apron and throwing it half reluctantly upon the counter. 'But in that case I should be obliged to leave the city.' 'Would you have to go far away?' I asked. 'Why? What difference would that make to you?' I told her I should move to the same place. 'You're a child,' she said. 'That wouldn't do at all, and there are quite different matters to be considered. But if you have confidence in me and like to be near me, buy the millinery store next door, which is for sale. I understand the business, and you can count on a reasonable profit on your investment. Besides, keeping the books and attending to the correspondence would supply you with a proper occupation. What might develop later on, we'll not discuss at present. But you would have to change, for I hate effeminate men.' I had jumped up and seized my hat. 'What's the matter? Where are you going?' she asked. 'To countermand everything!' I said breathlessly. 'Countermand what?' I then told her of my plan for the establishment of a copying and information bureau. 'There isn't much in that,' she suggested. 'Information anybody can get for himself, and everybody has learned to write in school.' I remarked that music was also to be copied, which was something that not everybody could do. 'So you're back at your old nonsense?' she burst out. 'Let your music go, and think of more important matters. Besides, you're not able to manage a business yourself.' I explained that I had found a partner. 'A partner?' she exclaimed. 'You'll surely be cheated. I hope you haven't advanced any money?' I was trembling without knowing why. 'Did you advance any money?' she asked once more. I admitted that I had advanced the three thousand gulden for the initial equipment. 'Three thousand gulden!' she exclaimed; 'as much as that?' 'The rest,' I continued, 'is deposited with the court, and that's safe at all events.' 'What, still more?' she screamed. I mentioned the amount of the bond. 'And did you pay it over to the court personally?' 'My partner paid it.' 'But you have a receipt for it.' 'I haven't.' 'And what is the name of your fine partner?' she asked. It was a relief to be able to mention my father's secretary.
"'Good heavens!' she cried, starting up and wringing her hands. 'Father! Father!' The old man entered. 'What was that you read in the papers today?' 'About the secretary?' he asked. 'Yes, yes!' 'Oh, he absconded, left nothing but debts, and swindled everybody. A warrant for his arrest has been issued.' 'Father,' she cried, 'here's one of his victims. He intrusted his money to him. He is ruined!'
"'Oh, you blockhead! The fools aren't all dead yet,' cried the old man. 'Didn't I tell her so? But she always found an excuse for him. At one time she ridiculed him, at another time he was honesty itself. But I'll take a hand in this business! I'll show you who's master in this house. You, Barbara, go to your room, and quickly. And you, sir, get out, and spare us your visits in future. We're not in the charity business here.' 'Father,' said the girl, 'don't be harsh with him; he's unhappy enough as it is!' 'That's the very reason I don't want to become unhappy too,' cried the old man. 'There, sir,' he continued, pointing to the letter Barbara had thrown upon the table a short time before, 'there's a man for you! He's got brains in his head and money in his purse. He doesn't swindle any one, but he takes good care at the same time not to let any one swindle him. And that's the main thing in being honest!' I stammered something about the loss of the bond not being certain. 'Ha, ha,' he cried, 'that secretary was no fool, the sly rascal! And now you'd better run after him, perhaps you can still catch him.' As he said this, he laid the palm of his hand on my shoulder and pushed me toward the door. I moved to one side and turned toward the girl, who was standing with her hands resting on the counter and her eyes fixed on the ground. She was breathing heavily. I wanted to approach her, but she angrily stamped her foot upon the floor; and when I held out my hand, hers twitched as though she were going to strike me again. Then I went, and the old man locked the door behind me.
"I tottered through the streets out of the city gate into the open fields. Sometimes despair gripped me, but then hope returned. I recollected having accompanied the secretary to the commercial court to deposit the bond. There I had waited in the gateway while he had gone upstairs alone. When he came down he told me that everything was in order and that the receipt would be sent to my residence. As a matter of fact I had received none, but there was still a possibility. At daybreak I returned to the city, and made straightway for the residence of the secretary. But the people there laughed and asked whether I hadn't read the papers? The commercial court was only a few doors away. I had the clerks examine the records, but neither his name nor mine could be found. There was no indication that the sum had ever been paid, and thus the disaster was certain. But that wasn't all, for inasmuch as a partnership contract had been drawn up, several of his creditors insisted upon seizing my person, which the court, however, would not permit. For this decision I was profoundly grateful, although it wouldn't have made much difference in the end.
"I may as well confess that the grocer and his daughter had, in the course of these disagreeable developments, quite receded into the background. Now that things had calmed down and I was considering what steps to take next, the remembrance of that last evening came vividly back to my mind. The old man, selfish as he was, I could understand very well; but the girl! Once in a while it occurred to me that if I had taken care of my money and been able to offer her a comfortable existence, she might have even—but she wouldn't have accepted me." With that he surveyed his wretched figure with hands outstretched. "Besides, she disliked my courteous behavior toward everybody."
"Thus I spent entire days thinking and planning. One evening at twilight—it was the time I had usually spent in the store—I had transported myself in spirit to the accustomed place. I could hear them speaking, hear them abusing me; it even seemed as though they were ridiculing me. Suddenly I heard a rustling at the door; it opened, and a woman entered. It was Barbara. I sat riveted to my chair, as though I beheld a ghost. She was pale, and carried a bundle under her arm. When she had reached the middle of the room she remained standing, looked at the bare walls and the wretched furniture, and heaved a deep sigh. Then she went to the wardrobe which stood on one side against the wall, opened her bundle containing some shirts and handkerchiefs—she had been attending to my laundry during the past few weeks—and pulled out the drawer. When she beheld the meagre contents she lifted her hands in astonishment, but immediately began to arrange the linen and put away the pieces she had brought, whereupon she stepped back from the bureau. Then she looked straight at me and, pointing with her finger to the open drawer, she said, 'Five shirts and three handkerchiefs. I'm bringing back what I took away.' So saying she slowly closed the drawer, leaned against the wardrobe, and began to cry aloud. It almost seemed as though she were going to faint, for she sat down on a chair beside the wardrobe and covered her face with her shawl. By her convulsive breathing I could see that she was still weeping. I had approached her softly and took her hand, which she willingly left in mine. But when, in order to make her look up, I moved my hand up to the elbow of her limp arm, she rose quickly, withdrew her hand, and said in a calm voice, 'Oh, what's the use of it all? You've made yourself and us unhappy; but yourself most of all, and you really don't deserve any pity'—here she became more agitated—'since you're so weak that you can't manage your own affairs and so credulous that you trust everybody, a rogue as soon as an honest man—and yet I'm sorry for you! I've come to bid you farewell. You may well look alarmed. And it's all your doing. I've got to go out among common people, something that I've always dreaded; but there's no help for it. I've shaken hands with you, so farewell, and forever!' I saw the tears coming to her eyes again, but she shook her head impatiently and went out. I felt rooted to the spot. When she had reached the door she turned once more and said, 'Your laundry is now in order. Take good care of it, for hard times are coming!' And then she raised her hand, crossed herself, and cried, 'God be with you, James! Forever and ever, Amen!' she added in a lower voice, and was gone.
"Not until then did I regain the use of my limbs. I hurried after her and called to her from the landing, whereupon she stopped on the stairway, but when I went down a step she called up, 'Stay where you are,' descended the rest of the way, and passed out of the door.
"I've known hard days since then, but none to equal this one. The following was scarcely less hard to bear, for I wasn't quite clear as to how things stood with me. The next morning, therefore, I stole over to the grocery store in the hope of possibly receiving some explanation. No one seemed to be stirring, and so I walked past and looked into the store. There I saw a strange woman weighing goods and counting out change. I made bold to enter, and asked whether she had bought the store. 'Not yet,' she said. 'And where are the owners?' 'They left this morning for Langenlebarn.' [63] 'The daughter, too?' I stammered. 'Why, of course,' she said, 'she went there to be married.'
"In all probability the woman told me then what I learned subsequently from others. The Langenlebarn butcher, the same one I had met in the store on my first visit, had been pursuing the girl for some time with offers of marriage, which she had always rejected until finally, a few days before, pressed by her father and in utter despair, she had given her consent. Father and daughter had departed that very morning, and while we were talking, Barbara was already the butcher's wife.
"As I said, the woman no doubt told me all this, but I heard nothing and stood motionless, till finally customers came, who pushed me aside. The woman asked me gruffly whether there was anything else I wanted, whereupon I took my departure.