Then Elsie blubbered: everything she did was wrong; in God's name, they were always complaining of her; now they accused her of being too stuck up, now of making herself too cheap; when she said a kind word to a servant, folks made such a to-do that it couldn't be worse if she had lost her good name; nobody wanted her to have any pleasure, and everybody was down on her; it would be best for her if she could die soon. And Elsie blubbered more and more vehemently, until she was all out of breath, and her mother had to undo her bodice hastily, thinking in all seriousness that Elsie was going to die. Then the good mother held her peace again; for she did not want to scold Elsie to death. She merely complained at times to Freneli that she didn't know what to do. If she scolded, Elsie was capable of doing something foolish; but if she let things go and something really did happen, then she would get the blame for everything, and people would ask why hadn't she done something in time. Of Uli she couldn't complain; he was acting very sensibly, and she even thought the whole thing was disagreeable to him. And she would be sorry to send him off packing without notice, before they had more grounds of complaint; for, if she did, Joggeli would be the first to accuse her of dismissing through groundless anxiety the best servant they had ever had. But that was the way he always did—when she wanted him to speak he would keep still, and when she wanted him to keep still he would always meddle. She, Freneli, should keep her eyes open, and if she saw anything out of the way she was to tell her. But from Freneli the old woman got little comfort; she acted as if the whole affair were none of her business. Elsie could not refrain from talking to Freneli about Uli—how fine and handsome he was, and how she wouldn't take her oath that she wouldn't marry him yet; if her people angered her by refusing to do what she wanted, they'd just see what she'd do. She wouldn't take long to think about it, and she'd only have to say the word and Uli would go and have the banns published. Then, when Freneli would say little to all this, Elsie would accuse her of being jealous. Or when Freneli would talk to her and tell her not to make a fool of Uli, whom she didn't really want, or would tell her not to grieve her parents in this way, Elsie would accuse her of wanting Uli herself and of trying to entice her away from him in order to climb up in the world; but Uli wouldn't take such a penniless pauper as she—he was too shrewd for that. She needn't imagine that she could get a husband so easily; the poorest servant would think twice before he'd take a poor girl, and twice again before he'd take a bastard—that was the greatest disgrace there was.
[Illustration: THE BATH BENJAMIN VAUTIER]
Although Freneli felt such speeches deeply she would give no sign of it, would neither weep nor scold, but say at most, "Elsie, that you're not a bastard too isn't your fault; and that you haven't one by now isn't your fault either."
The hardest thing for Freneli was to regulate her conduct toward Uli. The more Elsie's money went to his head, the more he felt himself drawn to Freneli; he could not bear to have her give him short answers or to seem angry with him, and tried in every way to pacify her and win her favor. He often fled from Elsie, and never sought her out; he never fled from Freneli, but often looked for her; while Freneli fled from him and Elsie ran after him. Freneli wanted to be short and dry with Uli, and still, with the best intentions, she often could not but be friendly with the friendly lad, and at times forgot herself and would spend two or three minutes chatting and laughing with him. When Elsie happened to see this there were terrible scenes. First she would make the wildest accusations against Freneli, until she could talk no more and was completely out of breath; when in this state she would sometimes rush at her, and would have tried to beat her if she had had the strength. Then she would pitch into Uli; a hundred times he would have to hear that he was a filthy fellow and only a servant; that she saw what she had to expect if she was such a fool as folks thought; but, thank heaven, there was still time enough, and she wouldn't be such a fool as to bring her money to a man who she was afraid would waste it all on women. Then she would begin to bawl at such false statements, and say she was going to die either by hanging or shooting herself. Often she would become reconciled in the midst of her tears, and Uli had to promise not to run after others any more, and not to say another good word to that old Freneli, who just wanted to lead him on and astray. Again, the quarrel would continue and Elsie would sulk. Then Uli would think: a girl that was so jealous, and so often told him he was a servant, and bawled and sulked so much, wouldn't be the most agreeable kind of wife; it would be hard living with her, and it would be better if he drove the whole thing out of his mind. But as soon as he became indifferent to her sulks, Elsie grew anxious and sought a reconciliation; then she would buy him something, or seek some other opportunity to flatter Uli, and beg him to love her, for she had no other joy in life. And when she made him so angry he mustn't take it ill of her; she only did it because her love was so great and she didn't want anybody else to have him—etc., etc. When she once had him to herself she wouldn't be jealous any more; but so long as she was all in the air and didn't know where she stood, she often felt as if she'd rather die. And she didn't really know whether Uli loved her, either; sometimes it seemed to her that, if he loved her very much, he'd go at it quite differently, and take hold of things better; but he was just like a wooden doll and never lifted a hand. Then when Uli would say that he didn't know how to do any better, that he too didn't exactly know whether Elsie really wanted him, and if she was in earnest about it she should speak with her parents, or they would go to the pastor and announce their engagement and then see what would come of it, Elsie would say that there was no hurry about it; they could get married any time; the chief thing was that he should love her, and then a year would be soon enough, or if he went at it right (that depended on him, she would see about it), six months; but with that Freneli he must have nothing more to do or she would scratch both their eyes out and the hussy would have to leave the house.
Of course the affair made talk for miles around, and people told much more than there was to tell. There were two parties: one thought the parents were rightly served, the other thought Uli would get his deserts with his rich wife. The longer it lasted, and it was over a year now, the more probable seemed his success; the more the servants submitted to Uli and ranged themselves on the side of the presumptive son-in-law, so that the farm took on a more and more prosperous appearance and Uli became more and more indispensable. Even Joggeli, into whose money-bags the cash profit flowed, and who could easily figure what twenty additional cords of fodder and a thousand sheaves of grain meant, choked down his anger and shut one eye, comforting himself by saying that he would use Uli as long as possible; and if matters ever got serious, why then there would still be time enough. Once when Johannes, having heard the gossip, came along, and cursed and swore and demanded that Uli be discharged, Joggeli would not hear to it; as long as he lived he would give orders here, and Johannes would be glad to have Uli if he could get him; what went on here was none of his business, and if they wanted to give Elsie to Uli that was none of his business either. He needn't think he'd inherit everything; for the time being everything that they still had and that he hadn't wormed out of 'em was theirs; the more Johannes carried on, the sooner Elsie would have to marry—not that it would have to be Uli; there were others too. They knew well enough how much he loved them; if he just had the money he'd never ask again after father and mother and Elsie; and they could all marry again for all he cared, and if to tramps or gipsies it would be all one to him.
Thus Joggeli talked to his son in his nagging, coughing way, so that the mother grew quite anxious, and interrupted: Johannes needn't be afraid; that wouldn't happen, for she was still at the helm and Elsie wouldn't force them to everything, and Uli was a good lad, and so on. Then Johannes wanted to talk with Uli himself, but he was not to be found; he had gone out to get a cow, it was said. Trinette, this time much more beautifully sulphur-yellow than Elsie had been, strutted around her with contemptuous mien and turned-up nose, and finally said, "Fie and for shame, how common you're making yourself! To take up with a servant! It's a disgrace for the whole family! If my folks had known that my husband's sister would marry a servant, they'd have given him the mitten like a flash; they didn't like him any too well as it was; but I was fool enough to want him absolutely. We can't count you as one of the family any more, and then you can see where you'll find a roof for your head; you can't stay here any more—I say this once and for all. Faugh, to have a love-affair with a servant! You give me the creeps; I can't bear to look at you any more. Ugh, aren't you ashamed to the bottom of your soul, and don't you feel like crawling into the ground?"
However, Elsie was not ashamed, but paid Trinette back heartily in her own coin: a girl could choose anybody she wanted for her sweetheart, and could marry a servant or a master; all men were alike before God. But if once she was a wife she'd be ashamed to have her name connected now with the stable-boy and now with the butcher, now with the herder and now with the carter, and finally with all the peddlers and traders, and to have children with no two noses the same and looking as much alike as Swiss and Italians. But for Freneli and the mother, the two sisters-in-law would have torn the grass-green and the sulphur-yellow dresses from each other's bodies. When the mother wanted to help out Trinette by speaking for her, Elsie became so excited that they had to put her to bed. Now, she said, when she recovered consciousness and speech—now she surely would do what she wanted; she wouldn't let herself be made into sausages like a fat sow; and it was cruel of her parents to want just one child to inherit and to let the other child pine away without a husband, just so all the money would stay in one pile.
Johannes and his wife did not stay long. Turning in frequently on the homeward road, and giving up all restraint, they spun out at length the whole story to their friends and colleagues, male and female, and their story carried the rumor to complete certainty. The brother and his wife told it themselves, people said, and they ought to know.
Not long afterward Uli drove to market with a horse, but soon saw that he could not sell it for what he was instructed to get, so, as it was bad weather, he took it from the market-place and stabled it in an inn. Turning a corner to enter the inn, he bumped into his old master. With unconcealed joy Uli held out his hand and told him how glad he was to see him and to be with him for a while. The master was somewhat cool and spoke of much business, but finally named a place where they could drink a bottle in peace. There, after they were seated in a corner fairly well out of sight, they began the preliminaries. Johannes asked whether there had been much hay, and Uli said yes, and asked whether his grain had fallen too; the first wind had felled theirs. "You're doing well," continued the master after some further talk, "and what do I hear? Folks say you're soon to be farmer at Slough Farm."
"Why, who says that?" asked Uli.