ctable inn, which might be bought and made
profitable, especially where there was a brisk traffic in changing
horses, and then she and Lenz would sell their house on the
Morgenhalde.

Ernestine promised every attention to her wishes, and repeatedly begged
Annele not to send to any one but her for groceries.

When Annele returned home, many were the thoughts that passed through
her head: "Our inn provided for so many people in its day, and ensured
their success in life, and now we are to sink into nothing! Even the
simple Ernestine had her wits sharpened up with us, so that she can now
actually conduct a shop, and has made a man of her shabby, ruined
tailor. Once on a time, she was only too glad to wear my old clothes,
and now, how she is dressed out!--like a steward's wife, rustling in
silk, and rattling the gold in her purse: and I am not to get on in
life, but to remain vegetating and fading away here, and even accepting
benefits from Ernestine! for her heart failed her to offer me the
coffee and sugar as a gift, so she pretended they were merely samples
of her wares.--No, no, my good clockmaker! I intend to wind you up, and
set you going in a strain of music you never heard before!"

She was very much satisfied at having given Ernestine orders, to find
out a profitable inn for them. When any step is once taken, a line of
conduct is quickly settled accordingly.

In the mean time she tried to be calm and quiet. Not till late at
night, did Lenz return from the town with an adverse decision. There
was no legal right on this property to the shelter of the wood; and
when Lenz awoke in the morning, and heard the strokes of the axe on the
hill behind his house, every stroke seemed to cut into his flesh.
"I might as well die at once," said he to himself, despondingly, as he
went to his work. The whole day he never said a word, and not till
night, when he put out the light in his room, did he say aloud:--"I
wish I could extinguish my life like this."

Annele pretended not to hear him.

Annele had as yet shed no tear, either for her own misfortunes, or the
misery of her parents. With the exception of bewailing the fate of her
children, when she first heard what had occurred, she was calm and
composed. When, however, morning after morning, no more newly baked
white bread came from the village, when she placed the loaf on the
table beside the coffee, bitter tears rolled down her cheeks and
dropped on the bread: she cut it