en
did not draw on his boots from one Sunday to another. For the first
time for many months she dressed her hair in its triple crown of
braids, and her proud glance as she stood before her glass said
plainly: I am Annele of the Lion; I have no idea of pining away for any
man. I have harnessed afresh, and he must drive with me. Our two
strongest horses are put to the carriage. She snapped with her tongue,
and raised her right hand as if brandishing a whip over the horses'
heads.

"Is your mistress at home?" asked a voice without.

"Yes."

There was a knock, and, to Annele's great surprise, the minister
entered.

"Welcome, sir," said Annele, courtesying; "did you wish to see me or my
husband?"

"I came to see you, knowing your husband was absent. I have not seen
you in the village since your parents' misfortune, and thought I might
perhaps be of some service to you in your trial."

Annele breathed more freely. She had feared her visitor might have been
sent by Lenz, or had come to speak with her about Lenz.

She spoke with sorrow of the fate of her parents; her mother, she
feared, would not long survive the shock.

The minister talked with her kindly and seriously, urging her to be
resigned to what had happened, whether merited or unmerited, and not to
let distress and anger tempt her to shut herself from the world. He
reminded her of the one honor that he had spoken of at her marriage; he
spoke pleasantly of her father, whose misfortune was due to a
miscalculation on his part, not to any intentional dishonesty.

"I have not forgotten your wedding day," pursued the minister, giving a
slight turn to the conversation, "and wished to bid you good morning on
this fifth anniversary of it."

Annele smiled and thanked him; but the thought struck to her heart that
Lenz had gone away without bidding her good morning. With a return of
her old fluency she expressed her pleasure at the honor her minister
paid her; spoke of his great goodness, and of the daily prayers the
whole village ought to offer up to Heaven for his life and health. She
evidently was bent upon keeping the conversation away from her own
affairs. She would allow no approach, on the minister's part, to the
subject of her domestic difficulties. Under the influence of that
determination she drew in her breath and moistened her lips, as the
postilion Gregory might when he was about to blow one of his elaborate
pieces on the horn.

The minister understoo