degroom were called down into the lower room, where
the chief members of the family, both men and women, were assembled
about Petrovitsch, trying to force him to some decided statement with
regard to the amount of property he would leave Lenz. Don Bastian,
Pilgrim's crafty landlord, was chief speaker. He was anxious to lard
his meagre marriage gift with another man's fat, and had succeeded in
driving Petrovitsch into a narrow corner from which escape seemed
impossible. The smith, who felt himself of importance as being Lenz's
only neighbor,--he lived really half an hour's walk off, but his house
was the only one that could be seen from the Morgenhalde,--had been a
playmate of Petrovitsch in his youth, and was warming his heart with
reminiscences of old times. The landlady thought nothing was wanting
but the presence of the bridal pair, and for that reason had sent for
them. "Good! there is Lenz," cried the hard-pressed Petrovitsch as the
young people entered the circle. "He knows what my intentions are. We
are not accustomed in our family to proclaim such things from the town
clock. You know how we stand towards each other, don't you, Lenz?"

"Certainly, uncle."

"Then I will waste no more words on the matter," he exclaimed, rising
in great trepidation lest the smith or some one else should discover
this was his sixty-fifth birthday, and overwhelm him with
congratulations which he would have to pay for by a handsome note to
Lenz. He pressed his way through the crowd of guests out into the
street. A kick from some invisible foot brought a cry of pain from
Bubby, who was following close behind his master.

Lenz looked after his uncle's retreating figure with some misgivings.
Perhaps he ought not to have thus helped him out of his dilemma. He
might have been brought to the point then, and now the chance was lost.

But Lenz dismissed all such thoughts speedily from his mind, and was
merry and gay till late into the night. The relations who lived at a
distance had already left. It was time for the bridal pair to be
starting, for custom required them to be at home before midnight. "You
were right, Annele," Lenz said when they were in the little parlor
together. "I am sorry there is no carriage-way to our house. Wrap
yourself up warm."

"You will find I am right in a great many things," answered Annele.

Pilgrim had arranged the procession with great skill. First went
the musicians, then the bridal pair, preceded and fol