n came slowly
along with wreaths of red clover and blue cornflowers round their
horns, quite conscious of their finery. On either side a young man was
walking with a rake thrown over his shoulder; a dark one on the one
side, a fair one on the other; the one slender, the other more
thick-set, but both nice-looking and both happy.

Boehnke looked on with envious eyes. And there--he pressed still
closer to the window--on the top of the sweet-smelling hay, handsomer
and happier-looking than he had ever seen her before, there she
sat enthroned. Her light-coloured dress was fresh and clean, her
broad-brimmed hat hung down her back, her clear forehead was
unprotected; she looked younger and more light-hearted than her
daughter, who was crouching behind her. Brown-skinned Marianna was
hurrying behind the wagon, laughing. She had fallen off the piled-up
clover, and had now to run behind.

It was as though gaiety personified had entered Starydwor. The
schoolmaster clenched his fist and shook it at the wagon, and still he
would have given his life to have been in the procession and have taken
part in Mrs. Tiralla's joy. "How happy she is," he murmured, turning
away. He hated her at that [Pg 227] moment on account of her happiness,
but then he felt he could not begrudge her it, after all.

He walked past Mr. Tiralla with a gesture of loathing, and without
saying good-bye.

"Come again, my friend, my brother, come soon," he said thickly.

Boehnke did not answer. He must go out, out to that deceitful,
despicable woman.

He met her in the passage.

Did she know that the schoolmaster was there? Had Marianna prepared
her? Anyhow, she looked neither surprised nor terrified. Her blooming
face turned neither redder nor paler, it kept the same rosy tint, and
there was a kind expression in her eyes as she looked at him. She held
out her hand.

"It was so beautiful," she said, smiling, as she drew a deep breath of
pleasure.

"So beautiful," he repeated softly, devouring her with his eyes. He
drew her away from the light almost by force. When they had reached the
darkest corner, he said to her accusingly, "You're deceiving Mr.
Tiralla."

"Whose business is that?"

"Mine, mine, mine!" He shook her at every word, he was beside himself.
He felt he was intoxicated, and still he could not control himself. He
raised his hand as though to strike her.

She caught hold of his arm, "Oh, don't hit me."

The gentleness with which she sa