without a single mistake. She knew quite long pieces of poetry by
heart. She could speak of Berlin, although [Pg 20] she had never been
there, and that made a wonderful impression upon her husband. Gnesen
and Posen and Breslau were also big towns, but Berlin--_Berlin_! He
felt very ignorant compared with her, although in his youth he had gone
to the Agricultural College at Samter, and had understood pretty well
how to make something out of the five hundred acres he had inherited
from his father. The children--the son of his first wife and little
Rosa--would never be obliged to earn their living among strangers. And,
what was of more importance still, his beloved Sophia's future would be
secured if he died before her, for he had made a will in her favour, as
he had promised her mother he would.

Mrs. Kluge had been able to close her eyes in peace, fully satisfied
with having brought about this splendid match for her pretty daughter,
for it was her wisdom and circumspection which had paved the way for
it. Mrs. Kluge was of a better family than most of her neighbours. She
had originally come from Breslau, but after her marriage with the
schoolmaster from Posen she had had to wander about with him from one
miserable Polish village to another, and had always been very poor.
However, she had never allowed her little Sophia to play in the street
with the other children, and the child had always had shoes and
stockings to wear--rather suffer hunger in secret than go without them.

When Sophia grew older, and the time drew near for her to receive the
Holy Sacrament for the first time, she became the priest's avowed
favourite. Mrs. Kluge was a pious woman, perhaps the most pious woman
in Gradewitz, and whilst making dresses for the farmers' wives in order
to support herself and her child her lips used to move the whole time
in [Pg 21] silent prayer. It was owing to her dressmaking that she had
become acquainted with farmer Tiralla's wife--maybe also owing to her
piety. For did it not seem as if it were Providence itself that had
brought Mr. Tiralla as well as his wife to her room when she was making
Mrs. Tiralla's last dress? He had driven his wife over--she was in
delicate health at the time--and, as it was bitterly cold, he had come
in as well, and had left the horse standing outside. He could hardly
get through the low door, and had quite filled her small room. Little
Sophia was handing her mother the pins whilst the dress was