and looked admiringly at Lenz. "To think that such a work should be made by human hands, and by so young a man too! and yet he acts as if he were nothing more than the rest of the world. Keep so always; nothing becomes a great artist so well as modesty. Go on as you have begun; make more such works. You have a great gift, my word for it."
That poverty-stricken individual, that may-pole, cannot use such language, said her triumphant glance at the doctor's wife, after this speech. And, if she did, what would her words signify? It is very different coming from me.
"Your mother's blessing rests on your noble work, Lenz," said Annele, "for she lived to see it finished. How hard for you to part with it! Bring me the music, won't you? and I will learn to play it on the piano."
"I can lend you the notes," said the doctor's eldest daughter, who had heard Annele's concluding words.
"But ours is arranged for four hands," said Bertha.
"And I have but two," said Annele, snappishly.
The girls would have gone on chatting longer, had not the doctor commanded silence. A new barrel had been put in, and the second piece was beginning.
When this was ended, and the guests had gone into the other room to partake of the bread and butter, cheese and wine that Franzl had prepared, the landlord began upon business.
"How much do you receive for your musical clock, Lenz? You need not hesitate to tell me; I won't take any unfair advantage of it."
"Twenty-two hundred florins. I don't gain much at that price, for the work has cost me a great outlay of time and money. If I make another, I shall drive a better bargain."
"Have you begun another?"
"No, I have had no order."
"I cannot give you an order, for musical clocks are out of my line of business. I cannot order one, therefore, as I say; but, if you make another, perhaps I will buy it. I think I could dispose of it."
"If that is so, I will begin a second work at once that shall be better than the first. The idea almost reconciles me to having this one go and carry away all the years I have spent on it."
"Not a word more or less have I to say about the matter. I am always accurate and precise. I give you no order, but-there is a possibility."
"That is quite enough; I am perfectly satisfied. Annele has said just what I was saying to Pilgrim yesterday, that I could not tell how badly I felt at having to part with the work my mother took such delight in."
Annele cast her eyes modestly to the ground.
"I shall take the same delight in it your mother did," said the landlady.
The doctor's wife and daughters looked at her in surprise as she spoke, the landlord frowned threateningly at his wife, and the pause that ensued gave additional weight to her words. Franzl relieved the general embarrassment by hospitably pressing refreshments upon every one, and was radiant with happiness when Annele commended her for keeping the house in such good order that no one would imagine it was without a mistress. The old woman put her newly washed apron to her eyes.
The landlady hit upon an excellent topic in asking Lenz if his uncle had been to see his work, and if he were not pleased with it.
"He came," answered Lenz, "but said nothing, except that I had sold it too cheap, and did not know how to look after my own interests."
There could not have been a happier inspiration than to turn the conversation upon an absent friend, especially one so open to criticism as Petrovitsch. The only question was what tone should be assumed in speaking of him. Annele and her mother had already opened their mouths when a warning look from the landlord silenced them. The doctor began to praise the absent uncle. He only put on a rough exterior, said his apologist, to hide his kind heart. "Petrovitsch," he continued, turning to Lenz and the schoolmaster, "is like the coals which once were trees; they have rich warmth within, and so has Petrovitsch." The schoolmaster smiled assent, Lenz looked embarrassed, and the landlord growled. "Petrovitsch likes music," said the doctor's eldest daughter, "and no one who likes music can be hard-hearted." Lenz nodded approvingly, and Annele gave a gracious smile. The landlady was not to be outdone. It was she who had turned the conversation upon this fertile subject, and she was not going to let it be appropriated by others. She praised Petrovitsch's cleverness, and hinted that she possessed his entire confidence, which naturally suggested her cleverness also in appreciating this sage as the rest of the world could not. Annele, too, must bring her offering of praise. Petrovitsch was so neat, she said; he wore such fine linen and made such good jokes. A crumb even fell to Bubby's share from this rich feast of compliments. Annele described Petrovitsch as the perfect model of a kind, true family friend, – almost a saint, in fact. He wanted nothing finally but a pair of wings to become an angel outright.
The visit came to an end at last. The schoolmaster escorted the doctor's daughters, and Lenz joined the doctor, who was walking behind.
"I have a question to ask you, doctor," said he, "but you must not seek to know my reason for asking."
"What may it be?"
"I want to know what kind of a plant Edelweiss is."
"Don't you know, Amanda?" asked the doctor.
"It is an alpine plant," answered Amanda, blushing, "that is said to grow on the line of perpetual snow, – in fact, under the snow. I never saw a living specimen of it."
"I believe you, child," replied the doctor, smiling; "only the boldest alpine goatherds and hunters venture to pick the hardy little plant from its native soil. The possession of one is a proof of unusual daring. It is a peculiar plant of delicate construction, and containing very little sap, so that it can be preserved a long while, like our everlasting. The blossom is surrounded by white velvety leaves, and even the stem has a down upon it. I can show you the plant if you will come to my house. The Latin name is Leontopodium alpinum, which means Alpine lion's-foot. I don't know where the German name comes from, but it is certainly prettier than the Latin."
Lenz expressed his thanks, and took leave of the doctor and his family, who continued down the mountain.
The landlady lingered in the kitchen with Franzl after the rest had gone. She could not find words to express her admiration of the old woman's neatness and orderliness. "You are like a mother in the house," she said with her magpie laugh, as Pilgrim called it; "Lenz ought to hold you in great honor, and confide everything to you. He should have no secret from you."
"He does not; that is-only one."
"So there is one! May I know what it is?"
"I don't know myself. When he came home from his mother's funeral, he rummaged in the chest that the mistress would never let any one have the key of; and when I called him, he pushed to the door and rummaged awhile longer, locking everything up again tight. Whenever he goes out now he always tries the lid, to see that it is fast locked. Yet he is not naturally suspicious."
The landlady cleared her throat and gave utterance to another little magpie laugh. The old mistress must have laid by a stocking full of gold, she thought; who knows how much? "Come and see me," she said, condescendingly; "come whenever you like. If you should want anything, do not fail to come to me for it. I should never forgive you if you were to apply to any one else. Your brother often comes to us with his wares; have you any message for him?"
"Yes; I should think he might come up and see me sometimes."
"Be sure I will tell him so, and if he has not time to come so far, I will send for you to come down. We have a great many Knuslingers at our house, and very sensible people they are; at least I like to talk with them better than with any one else. If the Knuslingers were only rich, they would be famous the country round. We often speak of you, and your townspeople like to hear of the esteem in which you are held."
When the landlady paused for breath, Franzl gazed at her with rapture, and would gladly have supplied her with her own, had she had any to spare; but hers too was exhausted. She could only lay her hand on her heart; to speak was quite out of her power. What a change had come over the kitchen! Merry Knuslingen faces seemed to be laughing from all the pots and pans; the shining copper kettles turned into drums and began to play;