d fairly set in, and a new landlord
settled in the "Golden Lion," the old proprietors having gone to live
in a house adjoining that of their son-in-law, the wood merchant, in a
neighbouring town. The old Landlord of the "Lion" had borne his fate
with almost admirable equanimity; once only, at a little distance from
the village, when the Techniker drove past him in his caleche, with his
two chesnuts, the Landlord lost his usual phlegmatic composure, but no
one saw him stagger and stumble into a ditch, where he lay for a long
time, till at last he managed to scramble out.

Petrowitsch walked now in a different direction. He no longer passed
Lenz's house, nor went to the wood, which was, indeed, by this time
nearly cut down.

Lenz used to sit up late calculating; he could devise nothing, and soon
a sum was offered to him, but it seemed to him as burning as if it had
been coined in the Devil's workshop.

Ernestine's husband came one day with a stranger to the Morgenhalde,
and said:--"Lenz, here is a person who will buy your house."

"What do you mean? my house?"

"Yes, you said so yourself; it is of much less value now that it
formerly was, for since the wood has been felled, its situation is very
dangerous, but still proper precautions may be taken."

"Who, pray, said I wished to sell my house?"

"Your wife."

"What? my wife? Come in: Annele, did you say I would sell my house?"

"Not exactly; I only said to Ernestine, that if her husband knew of a
respectable inn in a good situation, we would buy it, and then sell our
house here."

"But it is more prudent," said the Grocer, "to dispose of your house
first; with ready money in hand, you will easily get a suitable inn."

Lenz looked pale and agitated, but simply said:--"I have no intention
whatever of selling my house."

The Grocer and his friend were angry and displeased at such capricious
people, who would take no advice, and caused so much trouble for
nothing.

Lenz nearly got into a rage with them, but he had sufficient command
over himself to say nothing in reply. When he was at last left alone
with Annele, she did not speak a word, though he looked at her several
times; he at length said:--"Why did you do this to me?"

"To you? I did nothing to you; but it must be so--we shall have no
peace till we leave this place. I won't stay here any longer, and I am
determined to keep an inn, and you shall see that I will make more by
it in a single year, ay, thr