"So she may be called. In Salingen they call her only Angel. And she is indeed as lovely, good, and beautiful as an angel. She has a heart for the poor, and she gives with an open hand and a smiling face that does one good. She is like her father, who gives me as many potatoes as I want, and seed for my little patch of ground."
"Why does Angela decorate this statue?"
"I do not know; perhaps she does it through devotion."
"The flowers are quite fresh; does she come here every day?"
"Every day during the month of May, and no longer."
"Why no longer?"
"I do not know the reason; she has done so for the last two years, since she came home from the convent, and she will do so this year."
"As Siegwart is so good to the poor, he must be rich."
"Very rich—you can see from his house. Do you see that fine building there next to the road? That is the residence of Herr Siegwart."
It was the same building that had arrested Richard's attention as he passed it some days before, and the sight of which had excited the ill-humor of his father. Richard returned by a shorter way to Frankenhöhe. He was serious and meditative. Arrived at home, he wrote in his diary: