PRESSES AND EYES ARE OPENED.
"Welcome, Franzl! So we have you here at last? We hoped to have seen
you sooner." Thus was Franzl received by the Landlady, when she came
into the public room.
"I beg your pardon, but did not you send for me? My brother I
understood was here?" said Franzl in a hesitating voice.
The Landlady knew nothing of it. Her brother had certainly been here,
but had been gone a long time. She had indeed told her errandboy to
mention this to Franzl the first opportunity, but not particularly
today.
Franzl apologised, and wished to return home immediately, for she felt
as if she were an intruder; this seemed to satisfy the Landlady. She
did not wish the simple creature to perceive what was going on, and
thought that Franzl should feel herself highly honoured if she bestowed
a few minutes on her. It was far better that she should give them a
thousand thanks, than that they should owe her one. As Franzl was
actually here, the Landlady insisted on her coming into the back
parlour, to wait there for a little, till the busy lady could find time
to come to her. Franzl did not venture to take a chair, but stood
respectfully at the door, staring up at the huge presses that reached
the ceiling.
At last the Landlady came and said, smoothing her gown: "So, now I have
made all right, and I can have a nice quiet hour's chat with an old
friend. What is more precious in the world, no matter how rich one may
be?"
Franzl felt herself highly honoured. She was desired to sit down beside
the Landlady, close to her in fact, on the sofa, and a maid brought in
coffee and pastry.
Franzl simpered as in duty bound, and indeed far more than there was
the slightest occasion for, and tried her best to pour all the cream
that the Landlady wished to give her into her hostess's cup, till the
latter said, "I shall be really quite angry if you stand on such
ceremony."
At the second cup, Franzl had to tell how matters were going on up at
the Morgenhalde, and she declared--that Lenz worked as hard as if he
had no bread in the house, and yet they had stores of everything; he
seldom left the house except to go to Faller's, whom he was assisting
to furnish his house, for the purchase of which he had become security;
that he had given Faller a bed and bedding, and sent his mother's
Sunday dress to Faller's mother. If he did not soon get some one to
take the keys from him, he would give away everything; but he was most
frugal, and even parsimonious, where he was himself concerned. "He
neither smokes nor drinks; he neither takes snuff nor gambles; he
requires very little for himself;" said Franzl to his honour.
After the Landlady had once more sufficiently sung the praises of the
Kunslingers, who know everything, she said cursorily:--"Do you know, my
good Franzl, it is said that your master--or rather I should say your
son, for he is more like your son than your master--intends to marry
the Doctors daughter; I mean the one who is always sorting herbs. Is
there anything in it?"
"I think there is."
"Really?"
"That is, I don't think it well can be; but Pilgrim has been talking to
him about it, but Lenz does not seem to care, and I believe they are at
two about it."
"So! well, I am not sorry. I always say that Lenz knows what he wishes.
It would be much better if he did as you wish, and married the
Bailiff's Kathrine."
"There! you see," exclaimed Franzl triumphantly, smiling into the air
and nodding, as if Lenz was standing before her. "Do you see? the
prudent, experienced Landlady of the 'Lion' also says that I am right.
There! and yet you always will have it that she was too uncouth for
you, and that nothing could be made of her. I will tell him, however,
that you also advise him to marry her; that will help me on. I have
been long looking out for some one to give me a lift in this business."
"No, Franzl; God forbid! You are not to say one word from me, when you
go home; indeed he is quite right; Kathrine is not fit for so well
educated a man; he deserves a superior wife."
"Yes, it's very well talking, but where is he to find one?"
"Good day, Franzl!" said Annele, coming in suddenly. "It is very
pleasant to see you here again--sit still. To look at you, one would
think you were the wife of some rich farmer, and you might well be, you
are such a good manager. Drink your coffee, or it will get cold. Is it
sweet enough?"
"Oh! more than enough;" and Annele's words were like a loaf of sugar in
the cup.
"I should like to stay with you, and to hear some of your pleasant
talk, but I must go back into the public room, for one of us must be
there. Come back soon, and then I will sit with you."
"Oh! what a dear, good girl that is!" exclaimed Franzl when Annele left
the room. "You have heaven on earth in this house."
"We have our cares also. She is our last remaining child, and we often
wish we could see her well provided for."
Franzl opened her eyes very wide, then smiled in shy surprise, but she
did not venture to say a word.
The Landlady laughed and rattled her cup, and Franzl thought it her
duty to laugh also. She knows what is proper when you go to drink
coffee with a friend; indeed, the natives of Kunslingen, be they where
they will, are sure to fall on their feet. The Landlady, however, did
not try to enlighten Franzl further, clever as she was, and she had her
reasons for that.
"Tell me, Franzl, have you any fancy for looking at fine linen?"
"Nothing in the world that I like so much. If I were rich I would have
at least seven chests full of linen. Do you know the wife of the
balancemaker at Kunslingen? she has ..."
"There, just look!" said the Landlady, throwing open the doors of a
huge press, where everything was heaped up to the top by dozens, tied
up with blue, green, and red silk ribbons.
"Is this all for the use of your inn?" asked Franzl, when she had taken
breath after all her exclamations of admiration.
"Heaven forbid! This is part of the dowry of my Annele; from their
seventh year I have laid by a stock like this, for each of my three
daughters. You never can tell with girls how soon such things may be
wanted, and then I should have no occasion to apply either to the
weaver, or the sempstress. I should like, however, if the trousseau of
one daughter at all events should remain in this village, and that we
should keep one child near us. My children are all, thank God! doing
well, and more than well, but to see with your own eyes is better than
hearing."
To Franzl all this was like a sudden revelation; the press with all its
linen danced before her eyes, and the blue, red, green, and yellow
ribbons, seemed to melt into one bright rainbow. "May I venture to say
something? if I am indiscreet I beg your pardon a thousand times over.
How would it do? May I speak plainly? If--my Lenz ...?"
"I say nothing, for I am the mother, and my child is here, and can
answer for herself--do you understand? I think--I scarcely know--but--"
"Oh! that is enough; more than enough! Good heavens! I must fly home! I
carried him in my arms when he was a baby, I must carry him here again
forthwith; but such news will make him jump over seven hedges, and
houses. I am simple and stupid; don't be offended with me."
"How? you simple? You have a way of getting at one's most secret
thoughts. You might put seven councillors to shame; but now, Franzl, we
are quite alone and confidential together, like two good old friends; I
have not said a word, you found it out for yourself. My husband
naturally looks higher; but I am resolved to have one child in this
place, if God will! I tell you fairly, that I cannot be insincere or
deny my meaning. I shall not forget your hint."
"That is enough. I will show that we Kunslingers deserve our
reputation."
"But, how do you intend to set about it?"
"How? I will snatch his tools from his hand, and pack him off
instantly. He must come here this very day: but you must encourage him,
for he is rather shy with strangers."
The Landlady tried to quiet the excited Franzl, who first stood up, and
then sat down again; at one moment raising her hands to heaven, and the
next clasping them devoutly. She desired Franzl to show her good sense,
by not betraying that Annele's mother was well disposed towards him.
She also gave her other cunning directions, especially as to speaking
ill of other girls; that is, to warn Lenz against them; and scarcely to
mention Annele's name; for, concluded the Landlady, such a proposal
must be received with proper coyness, and there is a proverb: "No man
ought to point at a flash of lightning."
Franzl every instant said she was going, and yet she never went. At
last she had the handle of the door in her hand, and took a last fond
look at the large press, and her glance said:--"You will soon come to
us;" and, nodding to all the furniture, "all this is ours, and it is I
who have got it for Lenz;" and she went home as if all the linen had
become sails, and wafted her across the hills in the sharp harvest
wind.
Annele, however, said to her mother in the bar:--"Mother, what on earth
do you mean by gossiping with that stupid old cow? If anything ever
comes of the affair, must we pay court to that old woman? or if we
don't, have her crying out about ingratitude! And what's the great
hurry after all?"
"Don't pretend to know nothing. It is good and necessary to dispose of
you."
"I am not pretending, and I do know nothing; formerly you would not
hear of Lenz; why do you want him now?"
The mother looked straight in Annele's face; did the forward minx
really guess nothing? she only said:--"Now it is very different, Lenz
is alone, and has a well stocked house. I could not have given you over
to a mother-in-law." The Landlady left the room, and thought;--"If you
play false with me, I will play false with you, too."
At the Morgenhalde, Franzl went about in a perpetual giggle, while with
smiling lips she disparaged every girl in the neighbourhood, especially
the Doctor's daughters and Kathrine; she did not name Annele at all,
but gave dark mysterious hints about mountains of fine linen, and
people well to do in the world. Lenz almost thought that solitude was
beginning to turn the old woman's brain; she, however, did her work
steadily, and was more cheerful than ever, and he was himself in much
better spirits at his own occupation, and was a long time without once
going near the village.