hich he was now practically
master was to become renowned in the province for its enterprise and the
extent, in every direction, of its operations. The brick-kiln was a
long-cherished scheme. His oldest friend and rival, the head inspector
of a place on the other side of Stralsund, had one, and had constantly
urged him to have one too; but old Joachim, without illusions as to the
quality of the clay, and by no manner of means to be talked into
disbelieving the evidence of his own eyes, would not hear of it, and
Dellwig felt there was nothing to be done in the face of that curt
refusal. The friend, triumphing in his own brick-kiln and his own more
pliable master, jeered, dug him in the ribs at the Sunday gatherings,
and talked of dependence, obedience, and restricted powers. Such friends
are difficult to endure with composure; and Dellwig, and still less his
wife, for many months past had hardly been able to bear the word "brick"
mentioned in their presence. When Anna appeared on the scene, so young,
so foreign, and so obviously foolish, Dellwig, certain now of success,
told his friend on the very first Sunday night that the brick-kiln was
now a mere matter of weeks. Always a boaster, he could not resist
boasting a little too soon. Besides, he felt very sure; and the friend,
too, had taken it for granted, when he heard of the impending young
mistress, that the thing was as good as built.

That was in March. It was now the end of April, and every Sunday the
friend inquired when the building was to be begun, and every Sunday
Dellwig said it would begin when the days grew longer. The days had
grown longer, would have grown in a few weeks to their longest, as the
friend repeatedly pointed out, and still nothing had been done. To the
many people who do not care what their neighbours think of them, the
torments of the two Dellwigs because of the unbuilt brick-kiln will be
incomprehensible. Yet these torments were so acute that in the weaker
moments immediately preceding meals they both felt that it would almost
be better to leave Kleinwalde than to stay and endure them; indeed,
before dinner, or during wakeful nights, Frau Dellwig was convinced that
it would be better to die outright. The good opinion of their
neighbours--more exactly, the envy of their neighbours--was to them the
very breath of their nostrils. In their set they must be the first, the
undisputedly luckiest, cleverest, and best off. Any position less mighty
wou