n former days he could never get
singing enough, now he soon tired of it, and wanted to stop, or took
offence at a word, and the next moment was as hasty in begging his
comrade's forgiveness, when there was nothing to forgive.

He recovered his self-possession at times, and, trying to believe that
the sole cause of his discontent was want of industry, would labor
diligently at his old tasks; but no blessing crowned his toil. The day
often found him undoing what he had spent half the night in completing.
His hand was unsteady. Even his father's file, which had been
repointed, and whose touch had never failed to quiet him, lost its
efficacy. The machinery which had required a whole day to make and put
together he would pull to pieces in a fit of discontent, only to find
that it had been good work, perfectly adjusted, but seeming discordant
because of the discord within him.

He often put his hand to his head, as if trying to recall something
which had escaped him. The consciousness--if we may so express it--had
vanished out of his work,--that power by virtue of which many things
had seemed to do themselves with no effort of his will. Indignant at
his own inertness, he compelled himself to something like repose and
interest in his work. If you lose that, he reasoned with himself, all
is lost. You were once happy with only your art, you must learn again
to find in that your sole happiness. You can listen to a piece of music
when other noises are going on, you can distinguish the one sound from
the others; so here you must be absorbed in your own work, and not heed
the tumult about you. If you insist on not hearing it, you will not
hear it. Let your will but be resolute.

Lenz really succeeded in settling down to his work again quietly and
methodically. Only one thing he missed,--one little sentence that
Annele might have spoken: "Thank Heaven you are once more content to be
at home!" He had thought he could do without such encouragement, but he
could not. It was often on Annele's lips, only her pride kept it back.
Why should I praise him for doing his duty? it said. Now is the time
for having our hotel. He works best when no one is about to watch him;
with him at his work-bench and me in the public room all would be well.

Lenz worked twice as hard as he used to to accomplish the same amount.
Never before had he known that work was wearisome, but now the evenings
found him tired and spent. Yet he allowed himself no respi