eart
when the child said, "My father speaks so loud, and my mother too; and
my mother said my father was a wicked man."

"Oh! my poor Lenz, you must do what you can, to make your boy less
sensitive than yourself," thought Pilgrim.

The rain and snow came down in such gusts, that it was scarcely
possible to go outside the house, especially as large masses of snow
were tumbling off the roofs. Soon it was evening, but Lenz did not
come; and Pilgrim was startled by hearing the maid say that she had met
Petrowitsch on the road to the Morgenhalde, not far from the house; he
asked her "Whose child is that?" and when she said, "Lenz's son,
Wilhelm," he patted the boy's head, and gave him a lump of sugar, or at
least one half of it, as he broke it in two, and put one piece into his
own mouth.

Is it possible? Can Petrowitsch really be softened? Who knows the heart
of man?

After Petrowitsch had fully enjoyed his triumph over the Doctor and
Pilgrim, he felt quite comfortable. He watched the people going to
church in groups, and at last one solitary woman and then a man running
to arrive in time.

Petrowitsch usually went regularly to church; indeed it was said that
in his will he had bequeathed a large sum for the purpose of building a
new place of worship; on this day he stayed at home, having sufficient
occupation for his thoughts, but involuntarily it occurred to him--

"That fellow, Lenz, has good friends in his need. Pooh! who knows if
they would have been as zealous, if they had been rich! ... Pilgrim's
earnestness did, however, seem genuine: tears were in his eyes; he
controlled his own indignation, and submitted to all my impertinence,
for the sake of his friend; but who can tell if this was not all a
trick on his part? No, no, there still are true friends in the world."

The organ vibrated from afar, and the singing of the congregation rose
in the air, then all was still: the Pastor was, no doubt, preaching his
sermon: one solitary human voice cannot be heard at such a distance.
Petrowitsch sat in his chair with clasped hands, and it seemed as if
some one was preaching to him, for suddenly he started up, and said
aloud:--"It is a very good thing to show others that you have a will of
your own; but it is also pleasant to be esteemed. After all, it is not
worth much; but still, to take men by surprise, and to make them say,
'Well, we never could have believed this.' Yes, yes, that would be
pleasant enough."

For