ow her sole wish was to pass the
rest of her days, peacefully and frugally, in their solitary home.

The death of her mother, which was concealed from her for some time,
was a heavy blow to her. All her misfortunes seemed to have been
crowded into that one terrible night.

Wilhelm remained with Petrowitsch, who asked Pilgrim also to live with
him. Those who were passing the house, often heard neighing like a
foal, grunting like a pig, whistling like a nightingale, and hooting
like an owlet; and often an old and a young child's head were seen at
the window: it was Pilgrim and his young godson, trying to vie with
each other, to see who could imitate most animals. And then the real
barking of a dog was heard; it was Bueble barking. And last of all, a
loud laugh, interrupted, however, by coughing; it was Petrowitsch, who
was incessantly laughing at the pranks of the old boy and the young
one, till his cough stopped his merriment. He had not left the village
for years, and he maintained that so much laughing was better for his
health than any baths.

It was now the second summer since that eventful night. Lenz was
working busily, and had now three journeymen under him, and all was
going on prosperously.

One day Lenz went to his uncle, and said: "I never yet asked you for
anything."

"But I will ask you something, which is, to be so good as to ask me for
nothing."

"Not for myself, certainly, but for Faller. He was seized with severe
hoarseness in getting us out of the snow. He must go to some Baths."

"Very well; here is money for the purpose. Tell him he must go in my
stead, and float away my cough too. It is very good in you to ask
nothing for yourself. You help yourself; that is always best."

It cost no little trouble to persuade Faller to go to the Baths; but
Annele at last succeeded, through his wife.

Annele had now two friends, certainly very different from each other in
every point. The one was the Doctor's Amanda, and the garden on the
Morgenhalde had a great many cuttings from the Doctor's garden. Annele
took much pleasure now in gardening; she had learned how to tend and
nurse the plants herself. Her second friend was Faller's wife. "You are
more in my own station," said Annele often, "for you too are a
clockmaker's wife." Almost unconsciously, however, the entire
subserviency of Faller's wife gratified her, for she was a combination
of friend and servant.

Faller went to the Baths, where Annele's s