band who showed the world that he had courage to be
master, but not to one who did nothing all day but stick in pegs.

"But you knew well what he was," whispered conscience.

"Yes; but not exactly," was her answer; "not exactly."

"But has he not a good heart?"

"Yes, towards men in general, but not towards me. No one has ever been
domesticated with him, so no one knows how full of odd humours he is,
and how wild and strange he can be. But this can go on no longer; as we
cannot gain a livelihood by clockmaking, we must by something else."

This was always Annele's grand conclusion, and her thoughts incessantly
revolved round this point. She wished to employ her experience as a
landlady in a well frequented inn, to which people would flock from far
and near; and then, when she had plenty to occupy her, and was daily
making money, and had other people to order about, quiet hours and
happy days would return.

She went into the next room, and looked at herself in the glass. She
dressed herself neatly, for she was no sloven; slippers she never wore,
whereas Lenz would often go from one Sunday to the other, without once
putting on his boots. While she arranged herself neatly, and for the
first time for many weeks past, plaited her long hair into a triple
coronet, her scornful looks seemed to say, "I am Annele of the Lion; I
will have no more pining and lamenting; I will begin a fresh life, and
he must follow my lead."

"Is your mistress at home?" asked some one outside.

"Yes."

There was a knock at the door. Annele looked up in surprise, and the
Pastor came in.

"Welcome, Herr Pastor," said Annele, curtseying. "Your visit is meant
for me, then, and not for my husband?"

"Yes, for you. I know that your husband is absent, I have never seen
you in the village since the misfortunes of your parents, and I thought
that perhaps it might be some relief to talk over matters with me."

Annele breathed more freely, for she was afraid the Pastor had been
sent by Lenz, or had come of his own accord, to speak to her about him.
Annele now lamented the unhappy fate of her parents, and said that she
much feared her mother would not long survive the blow.

The Pastor earnestly entreated her, whether her parents were innocent
or guilty, not to repine against the will of God, nor to withdraw
herself from the world, in anger and vexation. He reminded her of what
he had said on her wedding day, of the honour of husband and wife bei