Annele resisted long, but at last consented to go if her mother would.
Contrary to her expectation the mother was soon ready. Every person
they met on their way through the village saluted. Hardly, however, had
they gone a hundred steps before Annele began to complain: "O Lenz!
what a horrid path! I sink in at every step. You must have it put in
better order. And do you know you ought to have a road made up the
mountain, so that carriages can drive to the door. Sister Babette's
husband had a private road broken through the fields to his house."

"I could hardly do that," answered Lenz; "it would cost a great
deal of money, besides my having to buy the field. See, my meadow
does not begin till that hazel hedge, and our business requires no
carriage-road. You know I would do anything in my power to please you,
Annele,--don't you?--but that is impossible."

Annele plodded on, without returning any answer. "Why need you have
made such a talk about it?" whispered the mother in his ear. "If you
had only said, 'Very well, dear Annele, we will think of it,' or
something of that sort, you could have done as you pleased afterwards.
She is a child, and children must be treated to pretty words. You can
do what you will with her if you only set the right way to work. Don't
weigh every word she says and make a great matter of it; let a subject
rest over for a day or so, till you see the right moment is come for
settling it. She will think it out for herself, or else forget it. She
is only a child."

"Annele is not a child," contradicted Lenz, looking in displeased
surprise at her mother; "I can talk over everything with her. There is
nothing she does not understand."

The mother shrugged her shoulders. "As you please," she said, sulkily.

About half-way up the meadow Annele broke out again: "Good Heavens,
what a journey! I had no idea it was so far. It will be a perfect
eternity before we get up there."

"I cannot make the way any shorter," answered Lenz, sharply. Annele
turned and looked at him searchingly. "I am sure," he added, in some
confusion, "you will rejoice one day that the walk is so long, for it
shows what a good large meadow we own. I could pasture three cows here,
if it were worth while."

Annele gave a forced laugh. The house was reached at last, and she drew
a long breath, complaining of being so hot and tired.

"In God's name, welcome home!" said Lenz, grasping her hand on the
threshold. She stared at him a