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 clevernes