The three years which, since his father's death, Axel had spent in
garrison, occupied with agriculture, heroic deeds and love-affairs, had
been passed by the dwellers in Pumpelhagen and the vicinity in much the
same occupations. The agriculture was a matter of course; but the
heroic deeds and the love affairs would have been wanting, if Fritz
Triddelsitz, in his hours of leisure, had not turned his attention that
way. His relations with Marie Moeller had slipped gradually out of the
motherly into the brother-and-sisterly, and from thence, on her part at
least, into the tenderly affectionate, and although they were still
based on a foundation of ham and sausage, Marie Moeller indulged in all
sorts of uncertain heavenly hopes touching priest and sexton, bridal
wreath, and farming and house keeping for herself, if in process of
time the business should take a serious turn, while Fritz lived in fear
of being discovered by Habermann at some of these private repasts, and
suspected that, if his aunt and is father and mother knew of his
foolish behavior, the business might take a disagreeable turn for
himself. In short, his love-affairs were not altogether satisfactory,
and though he thought no harm of throwing his hook here and there, for
example, to the little twin-apples, and, when his aunt was off duty, to
Louise Habermann, yet he was forced to confess, when he dealt honestly
with himself, that his only success was with Marie Moeller.
The heroic deeds of Pumpelhagen were also confined to his department.
He had at first attempted them merely against the farm-boys, and that
in a quiet way, for if Habermann had known of it, the renown which he
achieved upon their shoulders would have been sadly interfered with;
now, however, as all went well, he grew bolder, and in an evil hour
ventured to strike a stable-boy, and the rascal was so insolent
as to forget all the respect due to his station, and gave him such
a thrashing, in broad day-light, and Palm Sunday at that, that
Marie Moeller must spend the whole Sunday afternoon cooling his
shoulder-blades. And the most disagreeable of all was that with every
cold bandage that Marie Moeller laid on his shoulders she sent a sting
to his conscience, while she reminded him of all her kind deeds, and
inquired about his plans and prospects, trustfully assuring him that
she believed in his affection and would faithfully share his future. It
was very annoying, because, for his part, he believed more in his
appetite for ham and sausage than in his affection, and he preferred
keeping his prospects to himself. He stammered out something which she
did not or would not fully comprehend, and the cooler his blisters
became the cooler became their relations; he tried to change the
subject, she was not disposed to do so; she still applied the wet
cloths, but with a less and less gentle hand.
"Triddelsitz," said she finally, "what am I to think of you?"
With that, she came round from her position behind him, and placed
herself before his face, with arms akimbo.
"Mariken," said he, alarmed and confused, "what do you mean?"
"What do I mean? shall I, speak out more clearly?" exclaimed she, and
the sweet, tender expression was quite gone from her eyes. "Am I a
person to be made a fool of?"
Then she went back again, and slapped a cold bandage on his shoulders,
with emphasis.
"Oh! Thunder!" cried Fritz, "that hurts!"
"So? It hurts, does it? Do you think it doesn't hurt me, to find that a
man for whom I have done so much means to betray me?"
"Mariken, I ask you, what do you mean?"
"What do I mean? I mean"--with another emphatic bandage--"will you tell
me what to think of you?"
"Thunder and lightning! That burns like fire!"
"I hope it does! I should think your conscience would burn you,
deceiving a poor girl with all sorts of promises and prospects and then
backing out in this way!"
"Good heavens, Marie, I am only nineteen years old."
"Well, what then?"
"I must serve somewhere else for a time, and then----"
"Well, and then?" with another wet cloth on his shoulders.
"Good heavens! You might be a little more careful, Marie."
"_You_ might be a little more careful! Well, what then?"
"Then, I must get me a farm; and all that will take ten years or more."
"Well, and then?" pursued Marie Moeller, with truly infamous
persistency.
"And then," stammered Fritz finally, in his distress, "by that time,
you will be too old for me."
Marie Moeller stood at first as if thunder-struck; poisonous glances
shot from her eyes; then she bent round and threw the cloth that was in
her hand right in his face, so that the water spattered over his ears.
"Too old? Impertinence! Too old, do you say?" and grasping the washbowl
full of water she threw it over his head, and ran out of the room. And
as Fritz stood there, gasping and snuffling, she opened the door again,
and putting her head in, said,--
"Don't let me see you in my pantry again!"
Love had now received its death-blow; there was an end also of the
pantry indulgences; and as Fritz stood there dripping, it seemed to
him, among his confused thoughts, that the whole story did not exactly
harmonize with his ideas of love, still less with the romances he had
read, and he uttered in his vexation the selfsame words he had spoken
at the beginning of his apprenticeship, when he was working on the road
in the November rain: "It is quite different from what I thought! A
good, thing, though, that the old man is not at home," added he, "or he
might have heard the uproar."
Habermann had gone with Franz this morning to the Gurlitz church. He
always took this walk, with still, pious thoughts, but to-day his heart
was brimful of thankfulness to God, whose fatherly hand had led his
child so far on her life journey, for, on this Palm Sunday morning,
Louise was to be confirmed. He walked, silent and absorbed in thought,
along the foot-path, his eye resting on the pleasant landscape, where
the snow still lay in white streaks along side the ditches and under
the shade of the dark fir-trees, and where the green, springing rye in
the bright sunshine told of Easter, and preached the Resurrection. The
chimney-smoke lay over the little villages, and the sun seemed to press
it down, as though this token of human care and labor ought not to
darken the bright world, as if there would not be room enough else for
the joyous sound of the church bells, which echoed, far and wide, over
field and forest.
"Ah, if she had only lived to see this day!" said the old man aloud,
and as if he thought himself alone.
"Who?" asked Franz, a little shyly, as if he feared to be too
inquisitive.
"My poor wife, the mother of my dear child," said the old man, softly,
and looked at the young man with such friendly, honest eyes, that
seemed to say, "Look into our depths and read this simple, true heart!
We will answer all thy questions, and it shall echo long in thy
memory." "Yes," said he, "my good wife! But what do I say? She sees
more, to-day, than I can of her child, and she does more than I can for
her child; for her thoughts are higher than the blue heavens, and her
joys brighter than the golden sun."
Franz walked silent by his side, he was careful not to disturb the
Inspector; this old man, whom he loved, to-day seemed to him so worthy
of reverence,--his white hair lay across his broad forehead, as pure as
the white snow on the earth, his fresh countenance and bright eyes
spoke as trustfully of the resurrection as did the springing rye, and
the whole face shone with such a sunlight of love, that the young man,
after a while, could no longer restrain himself, he grasped his
friend's hand:
"Habermann, my dear Habermann, you have certainly lived through much
sorrow."
"Not more than other people," was the reply, "and yet enough to think
of, all one's life."
"Will you tell me about it? I do not ask from curiosity."
"Why not?" and he told his story; but he did not mention
Pomuchelskopp's name, and he closed his narration with this remark
about his child: "Yes, she was then my only comfort, and she is now my
only joy!"
They came to the parsonage. The little Frau Pastorin had become a
little older, and a little fuller, with time, and could not fly round
quite so quickly as before; and to-day she was unusually quiet, running
in nobody's way, and the duster lay unnoticed in its corner, as lonely
as a dog under the table, for to-day the approaching solemn ceremony
forbade her usual bustling about, for, as the Pastor's wife, she was
the nearest.
But it was impossible for her to keep quite still, if she did not buzz
about, she must at least run a little, now to fasten her Pastor's bands
and bring him a glass of wine, now to Louise, to set her ruffle
straight, and whisper a loving word in her ear; and when young Jochen
and Frau Nuessler and the little twins and Braesig all arrived together,
she would certainly have forgotten herself, if the sexton had not
exercised his judgment, and commenced ringing for the last time. The
twins were also to be confirmed to-day, and as the company were going
to the church, and the Frau Pastorin looked at the three lovely
children walking together across the church-yard, Louise in the middle,
half a head taller than her little cousins, she said to Habermann,
while tears stood in her friendly eyes, "Habermann, our child has no
gold chain and brooch to wear, as is the foolish custom now-a-days; and
that black silk dress, dear Habermann, is all of thirty years old. I
wore it last the first time I went to church here after I was married,
and a happy heart beat under it, for in that heart dwelt my Pastor; it
was too small for me afterwards, for, you see, I was already growing
rather stout, but it is as good as new, and nobody would know that it
was pieced down. And, Habermann, I put the money that you gave me for a
dress into Louise's money-box. You won't take it ill of me? I was so
glad to see my old dress in use again."
Just before the church door Braesig pulled Habermann by the coat, and as
he turned round he said, quite moved with emotion, "Karl, it is
remarkable, it is really remarkable, such a confirmation! See, when I
look at those three little girls walking along it reminds me of my own,
and how I had got through the infamous sheep-keeping for my sainted
father, and was going to begin farming. We went along just like the
three little girls, Karl Brandt and Christian Guhl and I, to the
church, only we didn't have black silk dresses on; no, Christian had a
green, Karl a brown, and I a gray coat; and instead of the bouquets of
flowers, that the little girls carry in their hands, we had little
sprigs of green stuck in our buttonholes; and instead of walking three
abreast we went one behind the other, like geese in the barley. Yes, it
was just so."
After a hymn had been sung by the congregation, Pastor Behrens preached
his sermon. He had grown older in his appearance, but his voice was
strong, and his thoughts clear as ever, and a mild and gentle spirit
breathed in every word. It is certain there is no profession in which
age is less of a drawback than in the ministry, when the man who holds
this office has discharged it faithfully. The people do not listen to
his words merely, they look at his long, upright, honorable life, and
he stands before them a living example of the truth which he utters. So
it was with this Pastor.
Then came the examination. The young maidens laid aside their outside
wrappings, Louise embraced, with tearful eyes, her father and her
foster-mother, Frau Nuessler affectionately kissed her little twins,
young Jochen tried to say something, but did not succeed, and the three
children stepped out from the Pastor's seat, up to the altar. "I wonder
if the rogues know their lessons," said Braesig to Franz, who was next
him; "I believe my godchild--that is Mining--will stumble." And with
that, he blew his nose, and wiped, not his eyes, but his eyebrows.
Franz did not answer; everything around him had disappeared for the
time, he saw only one face, a familiar face, and yet he saw it as for
the first time; he saw but one form, a form which he had seen springing
joyously about, but now a wonderful, solemn thrill trembled through it;
he saw a pair of hands which had been joyfully extended to him, now
reached up to the Most High; and it seemed to him as if the Lord looked
down, and upheld this trembling form, in the simple black dress, in
which a happy heart had once throbbed, and showed him this pure virgin
heart, and said, "Watch thine own, that it may be worthy to unite with
this." He was like a man who had long ago seen a beautiful region, in
bright sunshine, and who had rambled about therein, thinking of nothing
but his own enjoyment, and coming again after a long time saw the same
region under the silent moon, and could scarcely recognize it, because
over hill and forest, over thatched roof and church-tower, lay the
thick veil of the evening mist, upon which rested the silver moonlight,
so that he saw only this, and not the pleasant region that he knew. It
seemed to him as if his soul was stretching out imploring hands, from a
deep abyss, and a profound self-pity came over him, because is own
heart was so poor a gift to bestow. And this deep self-pity, this
secret longing for a better heart, that falls upon us, like a moonbeam
woven out of mist and light, we children of men call "Love."
Braesig stood near him, and whispered now and then a couple of words,
which Franz did not hear and which, if he had heard, he would probably
have considered very stupid, and might have been annoyed by them; and
yet the old Inspector's remarks had their origin in the same feeling
which had come over himself, only that it was not so heavenly blue and
rosy red as in his case, but old age had given it a tinge of gray.
Braesig was in the greatest distress lest his godchild, Mining, should
fail; and with every question that she answered properly, such a great
sigh was heard that Pastor Behrens, if he had been of the new-fashioned
style of preachers, must have thought he had brought a great sinner to
repentance in sackcloth and ashes. "God be praised!" said this sinner,
half aloud, "Mining knows it;" and after a while he touched Franz: "Now
it is coming, just listen, now it is coming;" and he punched Habermann
on the other side: "Karl, you will see Mining has got it. Mining has
the great water-question. I knew it, Christian Guhl couldn't say it,
and it came to me; but I have forgotten it all now, except just the
beginning: 'Water indeed avails nothing of itself, but the Spirit of
God'"--and as Mining repeated the answer, without faltering, the old
man whispered after her the whole "water-question," and when the sexton
came round with the poor-box, he put in a silver thaler, as if it were
a relief to his feelings; and he turned round, and pressed Frau
Nuessler's hand, and said almost aloud, "Frau Nuessler, did you hear our
little rogue?" and blew his nose with so much emphasis, that Frau
Pastorin secretly pronounced him an irreverent sinner, for disturbing
the holy ordinance.
If one should follow up the cord which bound Braesig to little Mining,
and go a little way beyond Mining, he would find the end made fast, in
Frau Nuessler's heart, where it was tied in a great double knot, which
could never be parted. It seemed to be sure, quite another thing, and
much rougher than the delicate, silken, rosy noose, which Franz would
fain have knotted about Louise Habermann's little heart and which
seemed to him too rough and hard for that tender heart. Love is
everywhere, the world over, but she takes strange forms; she flies like
an angel upon rosy pinions, and she shuffles about on wooden shoes; she
speaks with tongues, like the apostles on the day of Pentecost, and she
sits in the corner like a sulky child, whom the schoolmaster has struck
on the mouth with the primer; she gives diamonds and coronets, and old
Inspector Schecker sought to win the hand of my Aunt Schoening, with a
fat turkey.
When the confirmation was over, and the Lord's Supper had been
administered to the young communicants, Pastor Behrens went into his
vestry. Samuel Pomuchelskopp, in his blue dress-coat, followed after
him, for his Gustaving had also been confirmed, and opening the door of
the vestry stood before it, instead of going in,--"so that all the
people may see what a blockhead he is," said Braesig to Habermann,--and
invited the Pastor to "a spoonful of soup, and a morsel of roast meat,
and a bottle of red wine," in as loud a tone, as if they were at a
fair,--"that everybody may know what a confounded hypocrite he is,"
said Braesig,--but the Pastor thanked him, and said he was too much
fatigued to-day, and besides he had company at home.
Pomuchelskopp went back, and threw over his left shoulder a glance into
the parsonage-pew, making most elaborate attempts at distinguished
behavior, but they were quite discomfited as he met Braesig's venomous
face, for Braesig was such a bad Christian--as the Frau Pastorin would
have said had she seen it--that even in the Lord's own house he could
not keep his wicked feelings from showing in his face. But how quickly
was his old face changed when the three little girls came back, with
happy tearful faces, to give him also their hands, and offer their lips
to be kissed, as they had done to their parents and foster-parents! How
he lifted his eyebrows, and wrinkled his forehead, giving himself a
really paternal expression! This was his manner to Louise and Lining,
but when his little pet Mining came, he looked as comical as if he were
a child himself, he put his arms round her and whispered in her ear,
"You shall see, Mining, you shall see, I will give you something!" And
since he did not know what, at the moment, and chanced to have his
handkerchief in his hand, he said, "I will give you a dozen
handkerchiefs, bright ones!" for he wanted to do the business
thoroughly.
Each of the company had now offered his kind wishes, and each had
taken his thanks in kisses from the fresh, red lips, two only
excepted,--young Jochen never got more than half a kiss, and Franz got
none at all. Young Jochen could, of course, blame no one but himself,
for he need not have squeezed himself into the farthest corner of the
pew, so that the long left side of his mouth was quite out of their
reach, and the little girls must content themselves with the short
right side, which was not quite half of it. And Franz? He never thought
of the matter, he had not yet returned to earth, but was still in
heaven, and it did not occur to him, till they were leaving the church,
and he found himself near Louise at the door, to take her hand and say
something, which he could not recollect a moment after. He was
certainly in love! That beautiful face in deep devotion was imprinted
upon his heart and imprinted for ever-more!
I may be interrupted here, possibly, by some pious lady, or some
experienced maiden,--I do not mean old people here, but also
middle-aged,--who will inquire, "Could not this young man find some
other place to concern himself with such worldly matters as falling in
love?" And I reply, "Honored madame, and especially honored
mademoiselle, this young man was as yet so stupid in a business with
which you are quite familiar from early experience, that he had never
thought of love as belonging to worldly matters. And pray, where should
a young man fall in love? Only in an arbor, in the summer twilight, or
in a cotillion at a ball in winter? Many roads lead to Rome, but many
more to marriage, and he who starts on his bridal journey does better
to begin it in a church than in a ball-room; for he finds the marriage
altar close by, and the path is straight and clean; but between the
ball-room and the altar stretches the long, dusty, dirty street, and
many enter with soiled boots and shoes upon the holy path of marriage.
Is it not true, honored madame? Do you not agree with me, respected
mademoiselle?"
A simple dinner was waiting at the parsonage. Braesig was very lively,
and smiled like sunshine after rain; the old Pastor was also very
cheerful, for he knew with Solomon that everything has its time, there
is "a time to gather stones, and a time to cast them away;" but they
were all quiet, the church bells still chimed in their hearts, and only
with the hot coffee did Frau Pastorin and Frau Nuessler find their
tongues unlocked.
Immediately after dinner, the old Herr Pastor took a little nap on the
sofa in his study, to rest from the fatigue of the morning. Habermann
had gone out into the fresh air, with his daughter and his two nieces,
that the sweet influences of the secretly awakening spring might
compose these young agitated souls, and Franz had gone with them, also
to enjoy the secretly awakening spring, but the one which was budding
and blooming in his own breast. Jochen Nuessler had found a corner,
which was almost as convenient as his own particular corner, by the
stove, at home. Braesig went up and down the room, with his short legs
and his long pipe, his feet turned out in an extraordinary manner, for
since he had received his pension his gait had acquired a peculiar,
swing, and he used his little feet broad side out, so that people might
see that no man was his master, and he stood in his own shoes, and that
his long years of farming had not prevented him from appearing what he
was, an elderly gentleman, living on his own income. Frau Pastorin and
Frau Nuessler sat under the picture gallery, upon the sofa.
"Yes, dear Frau Nuessler," said the Frau Pastorin, "thank God! we have
got on so far with our children. Louise is seventeen years old, and
your twins are six mouths older. My Pastor says, and I know it too,
they have learned much; and with a little more help here and there,
they could earn their bread as governesses, any day."
Braesig stopped, lifted his eyebrows, and blew a cloud of smoke toward
the sofa, and young Jochen also turned himself about, in that
direction.
"Yes, indeed," exclaimed Frau Nuessler, "and the little girls owe it all
to you and the Herr Pastor!" and she grasped the Frau Pastorin's hand,
"my brother Karl said, and I say too, we could do well enough for them
in some respects, we could get them their daily bread and see that they
were neatly dressed, and teach them to tell the truth, and how to take
care of themselves, and keep house; but for all which makes a human
being of real worth, we were not capable. Isn't it so, Jochen?"
From behind the stove came a low, comfortable, assenting growl, such as
a faithful old watch-dog gives, when he has his head scratched.
"You hear, Frau Pastorin, Jochen says so too."
"Oh, I have done nothing," said the little Frau Pastorin, turning off
the compliment, "that is to say, for your two; of course it was
different with Louise, for I was the nearest to her. But--what I was
going to say,--we have never spoken about it,--had you thought of
having your children, or one of them, perhaps Mining, become a
governess?"
"What?" said Frau Nuessler, looking at the Frau Pastorin, as if she had
told her Mining had a prospect of becoming a Papist; and as the Frau
Pastorin was about to explain her project, she was interrupted by a
singular burst of laughter: "Ha, ha, ha! A good joke! Did you hear
that, young Jochen? Our little Mining to teach children! Ha, ha, ha!"
That was Braesig; but he made a great mistake. The Frau Pastorin sat
there, like a puppet on a wire, her red face grew pale with anger, and
under her little chin the little cap-ribbons fluttered quite
indignantly:
"What are you laughing at, Braesig? You are laughing at me, perhaps? You
laugh because I thought Mining might be a governess? Oh, Herr
Inspector," and she drew herself up, stiffly, "I have been a governess
myself, and it is quite a different thing to teach children, from what
it is to cudgel farm-boys."
"To be sure! You mustn't mind me, Frau Pastorin, but our little Mining
a school-mistress! Ha, ha, ha!"
But the Frau Pastorin was carried away by her feelings, and went on to
say: "And it makes a great difference whether one has learned
something, or whether one knows nothing at all; a man like you could
never be a governess!"
As she uttered these words, her Pastor entered the room, having been
awaked by Braesig's laughter, and it struck him as so ludicrous that
they were talking about Braesig's qualifications as a governess--and,
being short-sighted, he did not notice his wife's anger--that he joined
in the laugh: "Ha, ha! Braesig a governess!"
The entrance of her Pastor made a singular impression upon the Frau
Pastorin, at first the waves of passion rose higher than ever, but then
it seemed as if oil were poured on the troubled waters; she had indeed
often allowed herself a momentary ebullition of anger in his presence;
but to break out into flaming wrath! that was quite contrary to her
principles, and a droll conflict began in her spirit and gleamed
through her round honest face, like the light through a basket lantern;
the flame of anger blazed up once more, and then sank down into the
deep red glow of shame, that she, a Pastor's wife, and on such a day as
this, had so far forgotten herself, and the glow died out in the gray
ashes of a wholesome anger with herself, and as her own last words,
that Braesig could never be a governess, recurred to her, and she saw
her Pastor laughing, the ashes were blown away by a little gust of
merriment, but she held her handkerchief before her face, that the
others might not see it.
Frau Nuessler had meanwhile been sitting on thorns, and, as the Pastor
came in, she sprang up and said, quite distressed, "Herr Pastor, I am
the innocent cause of all this trouble. Braesig, stop your stupid
laughing! Frau Pastorin thinks our Mining should be a governess. Dear
heart, yes! If you and the Frau Pastorin think it best, it shall be so;
you have always advised us for the best. Isn't it so, Jochen, it shall
be so?"
Jochen slowly emerged from behind the stove. "Yes, it is as true as
leather; if she must, she must," and with that, he went out of the
room, probably to get the business through his head, in solitude.
"But what is all this?" asked the Pastor. "Regina, are you really in
earnest?" And Frau Nuessler went up to the little Frau Pastorin. "It
shall be just as you say, Frau Pastorin. Braesig, for shame! Frau
Pastorin, don't cry any longer!" and she drew away the handkerchief,
and started back in surprise as she met the laughing face. "What does
it mean?" she exclaimed.
"Only a misunderstanding, dear neighbor," said the old gentleman.
"Nobody has thought of Mining being a governess. No! our children shall
not swell the number of poor, unhappy maidens thrust out into the
world, to earn their bitter bread in this hard calling, with weariness
of mind and sickness of body. No, our children shall, with God's
blessing, first become fresh, healthy and skilful housewives, and after
that they may be governesses, if they like,--that is, to their own
children."
"Herr Pastor, dear Herr Pastor," cried Frau Nuessler, as if a stone had
been lifted from her heart, "God bless you for these words! Our Mining
shall not be a governess. Jochen--where are you, Jochen? Ah, he has
gone out in his grief! Yes, Herr Pastor, and they shall learn
housekeeping! You shall see, I will do my best for them."
"Yes," interrupted Braesig, "and they must learn to cook a good dinner."
"Of course, Braesig. Ah, Herr Pastor, I have had so much trouble with
governesses, myself; and only last week, I went to see the new Frau
Amtmann,--she was a governess,--you see she totters and staggers, and
sighs and gasps around the house, and looks as pale as a corpse--what
you call _interesting_."
"Interesting people always look as if they needed tying up to a stake,"
said Braesig.
"But you Bee, Frau Pastorin, she cooks her eggs too hard, and burns her
roast meat. I have nothing to say against learning, a great deal of
learning if one likes--it is very nice to read the papers, and to know
something about old Fritz and such people, and to know where the
oranges and the spices grow; but even if one doesn't know such things,
one can wait till one meets learned people, and then ask them; but
about cooking, Frau Pastorin, you can't wait for that, for you must
have your dinner, and who can you ask about that,--in the country? the
stupid maid-servants? That would be a fine story!"
"You are right, neighbor," said the Pastor, "it is very important that
girls should be well trained in housekeeping."
"So I say, Herr Pastor. To think of that poor little Frau Amtmann! She
has the best will in the world, but knows nothing at all. She asked
questions that my children could answer at seven years of age, whether
the swine were milked, and how the little chickens cut open the shell.
And Louise will not be a governess either, Herr Pastor?"
"No, not with our consent, and Habermann is of the same opinion;
she shall learn housekeeping. Regina is getting a little too lazy,
and--isn't it so?" sitting down by his wife on the sofa, and putting
his arm about her,--"a little too old also, she will be glad of a young
assistant, and could not bear to be parted from her Louise."
"You mean you could not bear it, Pastor! Really, I feel myself quite
set aside; from morning to night, it is, 'Louise, get this!' and
'Louise, bring me that!'"
"Well, we will not quarrel, I should miss the child sorely, if she were
away."
Meanwhile, Habermann had returned, with Franz and the children, and had
met young Jochen wandering about in a state of unusual agitation. He
ran to Mining, took her in his arms and kissed her, saying, "Mining, I
can do nothing to prevent it;" and when Habermann asked what was the
matter, he said only: "Brother-in-law, what must be, must." And as they
took their departure from the parsonage, and he sat in the carriage, he
felt as if he were carrying a lamb to the slaughter, and although his
wife explained the whole matter fully, and told him Mining should never
be a governess, the whole thing had made such a deep impression upon
him, that he ever afterward looked upon Mining as an unhappy maiden,
and treated her accordingly. She must always sit next him at the table,
and, he gave her the best of everything, as if every meal were her
last.