out for home. The moon
had risen, but was obscured by clouds. They walked up the mountain this
time, with neither escort nor torches. Annele complained that it was
frightfully dark, and she was ready to drop with fatigue. "I ought to
have stayed at home," she said.

"At home? up there is your home."

She made no answer, and the two went on side by side for a time in
silence.

"Have you counted the money you received?" she asked, presently.

"No, I can do that at home. There is a good deal, for it is heavy in my
hand. Luckily, your father lent me one of his empty money-bags."

"Empty? he has plenty of full ones!" said Annele, with temper.

"I did not ask for those, nor think of them."

As soon as they reached home she insisted on Lenz counting the money at
once. But he was so slow she took it into her own hands, and showed
that a landlord's daughter was much quicker at figures.

"I have been thinking the matter over," said Lenz, while she was
counting. "It is well to accept presents even from the poor. It teaches
them self-respect, and makes it easier for them to apply to us for help
in their difficulties."

Annele stopped in her counting and stared at him. He had such strange
reasons for the commonest things! He would adopt no custom until he
could reconcile it with his ideas of right; then he embraced it
heartily. Annele said nothing, but her lips kept repeating the number
she had in her mind, lest she should forget it.

The money amounted to just one hundred and twenty florins, counting
four counterfeit sixpences. Annele was terribly hard on the mean things
who would cheat them with such money.

"Don't speak so," remonstrated Lenz; "perhaps they were poor people,
who had nothing else."

Her eyes flashed. "You seem to understand everything better than I do.
I should think I did not know anything."

"I did not mean so. Be kind, Annele!"

"I never was cross in all my life. You are the first person who ever
called me cross. You may ask whom you like. You might have seen to-day
what the world thinks of me."

"O, very well; it is not worth disputing about."

"I am not disputing. It makes no difference what it is, if it is only
half a farthing. I will not be contradicted so whenever I speak."

"Certainly not; only do be quiet, or Franzl will think we are having a
quarrel."

"Franzl may think what she chooses. I tell you now Franzl must go out
of this house."

"But not to-day?"

"Not to-day, but to-