Joseph in the Snow, and The Clockmaker Volume II Part 19

"I ought to get a new fas.h.i.+onable set of clothes, don't you think so?"

said Lenz.

"No, remain as you are. You look more solid and respectable as you are."

"It does not only look so, but it is really so."

"Yes, indeed it is so. But pray don't speak as if every word were a p.r.o.ng in a watchwheel."

"You are right."

They drove through the next village, and Annele again desired Gregor to blow his horn with all his might! "Look! look! there is Ernestine, the grocer's wife. She is a cousin of mine, and was long a servant in our house, and then married a tailor, who afterwards became a grocer. She can't bear me; she will be so spiteful that her green face will turn blue, when she sees us drive past without our calling on her. Ah, ha!

there she comes to the window. Oh, yes! stare out your pig eyes, and gape till you show your long teeth. Yes, it is Lenz and I,--look well at my bridegroom! Much good may it do you!" They drove on.

"Now, does that give you any pleasure, Annele?" asked Lenz.

"Why not? We ought to be spiteful to spiteful people, and kind to the good. Both are right."

"Perhaps; but I can't be so."

"You ought to be glad, then that you have got me. They shall all creep into a mousehole before us, and be glad if we only look at them."

When they arrived in the town Annele gave her bridegroom fresh directions for his deportment:--"If my brother-in-law's brother is there, be sure you are very stiff to him. He would be glad to play you a trick, for he is very malicious, because I did not take him; but I did not care about him. And if my sister begins complaining, take it coolly; you need not try to comfort her, it does no good, and is not required. She has lots of money, and yet does nothing but grumble and complain; her health is very bad. Our family in general are healthy enough, you may see that by me."

The sister could not receive the betrothed couple at all, for she was confined to bed by illness, and neither the husband nor the brother-in-law were at home. They had both gone down the Rhine with a large raft.

"I suppose you would like to stay with your sister, for I have some business in the town."

"May I not go with you?"

"No; I have something to get for you."

"I had far better go with you in that case, for you men never know how to choose."

"No, no; you must not be with me," insisted Lenz. He took a large-sized packet out of the carriage and went with it into the town; for Babet's house was down by the river, close to a large wood yard.

Without Annele having observed it, Lenz brought back what he had taken with him, only rather larger in bulk, and put it into the carriage.

"What have you bought for me?" asked Annele.

"I will give it to you when we get home."

Annele was not a little provoked that she could not show the handsome present to her sister; but she had already perceived that there were points on which Lenz went his own way, and was not to be persuaded out of it.

They had refreshments in the inn, and Annele told Lenz that the son of the landlord, a superior young man, who had now a large hotel in Baden-Baden, had wished to marry her, but she would not have him.

"There was no need to tell me that," said Lenz. "I am quite jealous enough already of past days; but not of the future: here is my hand on that. I know you. It pains me to think that others should ever have raised their eyes to you. Let bygones be bygones; and let us commence life afresh."

A pleasant, warm smile lit up Annele's face at these words, as if a certain reflection of Lenz's kindness and simplicity beamed on her, and she was gentle and loving in her manner.

She could not express this, according to her ideas, better than by saying:--"Lenz, there is no need for you to buy me a bridal gift; you don't require to do what others do: I know you; there is something more precious than gold chains." Tears stood in her eyes as she said this, and Lenz never had been happier than at this moment.

The church clock was striking five; when they set off home in the carriage.

"My deceased father made that clock, and Faller helped him," said Lenz.

"Stop! it is lucky that it struck me: Faller says that you were offended by some incautious expression of his; he will not tell me what it was. Do not be angry with him, he is often awkward and abrupt, a precise soldier, but an excellent man."

"Possibly; but, Lenz, you have a vast deal too many burrs sticking to you; you must shake them off."

"I will never give up my friends."

"I don't wish you to do so; G.o.d forbid! I only meant that you should not act so that everyone can come and persuade you to anything."

"There you are right; that is my failing; remind me of it as often as you like, that I may cure myself by degrees."

Just as Lenz had said this in a humble manner, Annele suddenly stood up in the carriage.

"What is it? what is the matter?" asked Lenz.

"Nothing, nothing at all; I don't know why I stood up. I mean I am not comfortably seated; now I am more at ease. It is very agreeable to drive in our carriage, is it not?"

"Yes, very; it is as easy as an armchair, and yet you can see round you in all directions. It is so pleasant to drive, and it is the first time I ever was in a carriage of my own; for your father's seems mine also."

"Certainly."

The first excursion of the betrothed couple had not been quite so amusing as they had expected, but still both brought home with them much that was pleasant. Annele said very little, and it was evident that something unusual was occupying her mind.

It was still bright daylight when they arrived at home. Lenz a.s.sisted Annele out of the carriage, and let her go in first by herself. He then took out the parcel he had so carefully wrapped up, and when he was in the house he called Annele into the back parlour.

There the mystery was unravelled by these words:--"Annele, I here present you with the nearest and dearest object I possess on earth; my excellent friend Pilgrim gave it to me, and now it shall be yours."

Annele gazed intently at the portrait, for which Lenz had secretly ordered a frame in the town.

"Ah! I see you cannot speak, because my mother is looking at you!"

"So that is your mother? It is certainly her gown, and her cap and handkerchief, but as for your mother herself? No, it might just as well be old Annelise the carpenter's wife, or Faller's wife; indeed, I think it is very like the latter. What makes you look so pale all of a sudden? as if every drop of blood had left your cheeks? My good Lenz, would you have me tell an untruth? I am sure you would not; and how can you help it? Pilgrim never could do a thing well in his life. He has no talent for anything, except for painting his everlasting church towers."

"When I heard you speak, I felt as if my mother had died a second time," said Lenz.

"Don't be so melancholy all of a sudden," said Annele more graciously.

"I will show all respect for the portrait, and hang it up over my bed.

Come, you are no longer sad? You have been so loveable to-day, and really now, when I look again at the picture, I think it does remind me of your mother."

Just as Lenz first became as hot as fire, and then as cold as ice, so could Annele influence him as she chose, making him at one moment feel the happiest of men, and the next giving him deadly offence.

And thus it went on for weeks and months; but the prevailing feeling, however, was happiness, for Annele showed a degree of gentleness that no one had ever suspected she possessed. Even Pilgrim came one day to Lenz and said:--"Some men are happy when they see how wise they have been; I rejoice that I have been a fool."

"Really? on what subject?"

"No one can understand a young girl's disposition. I do think that in Annele's character, there is something that can make you entirely happy. It is, perhaps, fortunate that she is not so tender hearted as you."