"Uncle," said he, standing still: his voice sounded hoarse.

The old man, still busily crunching sugar, turned round.

"Uncle, you have come far enough; I thank you much; the way is long,
and I wish to go home alone."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I feel that it must be so."

"No, you had far better, on the contrary, turn with me."

"I am sorry, uncle, that I cannot do so, but I cannot! I cannot go to
the 'Golden Lion' today. I am neither hungry nor thirsty; indeed, at
this moment, I feel as if I could never eat or drink again. I regret
that you have had so long a walk on my account."

"No, no, I will go with you. I am not so hard hearted as your mother
told you."

"My mother never said anything of the kind: all her life long she spoke
well of her fellow creatures, and especially of relations; and she
never could endure to hear illnatured gossip about them, from first one
and then another: indeed she always quoted the proverb, 'Don't bite off
your nose to spite your face.'"

"Yes, yes, she had a great store of proverbs; in the whole
neighbourhood it is said--'Marie Lenz said so-and-so;' we should always
speak well of the dead, and I'm sure no one could possibly speak ill of
her."

The young man looked sadly at his old uncle; even if he said a civil
thing, it always left an impression as if he had given you a pinch.

"Yes, uncle," continued the young man, "how oft enduring the last few
days of her life, did she say (and it went to my heart to hear her),
'Lenz, I ought to have died six years ago for your sake; at five and
twenty you ought to have been married, and you will find it hard to
marry, for you have become so accustomed to me, and now that must end.'
I could not persuade her to the contrary, and that was the only thing
that made her unwilling to die."

"And she was right," said the old man, still crunching his sugar, "she
was good and kind, though somewhat self willed, but that is no one's
business; but her kindness tended to ruin you; you are sadly spoiled. I
did not intend to tell you of it just at this moment, there will be
time enough for me to talk to you further on the subject some other
time, but I hope you will come with me now, and not be so childish; you
really seem scarcely to know whether you are standing on your head or
your heels. It is the law of nature that your mother should die before
you, and at all events you have no cause to reproach yourself for ever
having behaved unkindl