the Farmer. Even now
I can't understand how he came to give in--but you have not entirely
converted him yet. My husband is always talking about it, saying what a
pity it is that you have nothing of your own. He can't get over it, and
keeps thinking that you must have a neat little sum tucked away
somewhere, and that you are deceiving us about it, merely to find out if
we are content to take you as you are. He won't let himself be talked
out of that notion, and so I hit upon an idea. God will not impute it to
us as a sin. Look--this is what I have saved during the thirty-six years
my husband and I have kept house together. There was no deception about
it, and some of it I inherited from my mother anyway. But now you take
it and say it is your property. It will make the Farmer very happy,
especially since he was clever enough to suspect it beforehand. Why do
you look at me in such a confused way? Believe me when I tell you that
you may do it--there is no wrong in it, for I have thought it over time
and again. Now, go and hide it, and don't say a word against it--not a
single word. Don't thank me or do anything--for it's the same to me
whether my child gets it now or later, and it will please my husband
while he's yet alive. And now, quick!--tie it up again!"

Early the next morning Amrei told John all about what his parents had
said to her, and what they had given her. And John cried out joyously:

"Lord in heaven, forgive me! I could have believed such a thing of my
mother, but of my father I should never have dreamt it! Why, you must be
a witch! And look you! We will do that--we won't tell either of them
about the other. And the best part of it is, that each wants to deceive
the other, whereas, in reality, both of them will be deceived! Yes, they
must both think that you really had some extra money! Hurrah! That will
be a merry jest for the betrothal party!"

But in the midst of all the joy in the house there were all sorts of
anxieties too!

CHAPTER XX

IN THE FAMILY CIRCLE

It is not morality that rules the world, but a hardened form of it
called "custom." As the world is now disposed, it would rather forgive
an offense against morality than an offense against custom. Happy are
those times and countries in which morality and custom are still one.
Every dispute that arises, on a small scale as well as on a large one,
in general as well as in particular, hinges on the effort to reconcile
the contradiction