must be sunk low indeed, to wear such a hat!"

In some houses they were civil, in others rude: "How can you expect us
to help you? you are connected with so grand a family, such rich
connexions through your father-in-law, and an uncle wallowing in
wealth: they are the people who ought to assist you!"

Where people wished to be more kind, they said: "Unluckily we stand in
need of all our money ourselves--we must build, and we have just bought
some land;" or again: "If you had only come to us eight days ago, we
had money, but now we have lent it out on mortgage."

Lenz went on his way with a heavy heart, and when he thought of
returning home, a voice said within him: "Oh! if I might only never
see the Morgenhalde more! To lie down and die in a ditch, or in the
wood,--there are plenty of places to die in,--that would be best for
me!"

An irresistible impulse, however, urged him onwards. "There is
Knuslingen, where Franzl lives with her brother; there is still one
person in the world who will rejoice to see me."

No one in the world could, indeed, be more rejoiced than Franzl when
she saw Lenz. She was sitting at the window, spinning coarse yarn, but
when Lenz came in, she flung the spindle into the air. She carefully
dusted the chair twice over, on which she invited Lenz to sit down, and
kept lamenting that things did not look tidier; she only now remarked
how dull and smoky her room was. She wished to hear all Lenz's news,
and yet she never let him open his lips, she was so busy talking
herself, and saying:--

"When I first came here I thought the cold would have been my death;
for I had been so used to our fine bright sunshine on the Morgenhalde.
There is not a single ray of sun there of which we don't get our share.
Now, however, I have at last become accustomed to do without it; but
Lenz, you look very ill? There is something strange in your face that I
never saw there before--that is not natural to you--Oh! when you smile
like that, I see your old face again--your kindly face. I have prayed
every morning and every evening, since I left you, for you and your
family. I hope you got some good from it. I am no longer angry with
Annele--not in the least: she was quite right; I am regular old lumber.
How are your children? What are they like? What are they called? If I
am still alive next spring, I must see them, even if I creep on my
hands and feet the whole way." And then Franzl went on to say that she
had three h