t she called herself your good
old friend! While Franzl was laying the cloth, she stole a glance at
herself in the glass, as a maiden might who is returning from her first
ball. So looks Franzl, the best friend of the landlady of the Lion. She
could not taste a morsel of the good things she had provided; she was
satisfied,--more than satisfied.

CHAPTER XII.

GOOD WISHES, AND A FAIR START ON THE JOURNEY.

Now it is ready, said Lenz to himself, casting a last look upon his
work before taking it to pieces; God bless you! The various parts were
carried down separately into the valley; the great carved case in a
barrow, there being no carriage-road to Lenz's house.

The two enemies, Petrovitsch and Pilgrim, met at the wagon on which
Lenz was standing, packing together the detached pieces, each of which,
in its turn, was carefully wrapped in a stout covering.

On one side stood Petrovitsch. "I know the man and the house," he said,
"that your work is going to. One of my best friends lives in Odessa.
Your clock will be in capital hands. Why don't you go with it and set
it up yourself in Odessa? You would get half a dozen more orders."

"I have a new order already," answered Lenz.

"Lenz," said Pilgrim on the other side of the wagon; "let us go a
little way with The Magic Flute; we can be back in good season this
evening."

"I am willing. I could not work to-day, at any rate."

As the wagon, followed by the two friends, was passing the Lion inn,
Annele looked out of the window and cried, "Good luck to you!"

The young men thanked her.

A still pleasanter greeting awaited them at the doctor's. The
servant-maid ran out and laid a wreath of flowers on the wagon.

"Who sends it?" asked Pilgrim, for Lenz was mute with astonishment.

"My young mistress," answered the girl, and disappeared into the house.

The two friends looked up at the window and saluted, but saw no one. A
few minutes afterwards they heard The Magic Flute played from the
doctor's parlor.

"It is a grand family, that of the doctor's," said Pilgrim. "I never
know my own mind so little as when I ask myself which one of them all
is the best. My favorite is the old mayoress. The neighborhood ought to
sign a petition to God that she might live forever. Now that your
mother is gone, she is the last one left of that generation of
dignified, motherly old ladies. But the granddaughters are fine women
too. A