ading into the tap-room.
Then he whispered to the schoolmaster, "Close it."

Boehnke hastened to comply with the hint.

"Do you think that the Tirallas would come to our Gardewitz ball?"
asked the clerk from the post office, blushing like a young girl. "I'm
getting it up, and if the Tirallas were coming I would arrange a
cotillon with flowers. If we were to order them at a big shop in Posen
we could get real ferns and wired flowers at sixpence a bouquet. Why,
it would even be worth while writing to Berlin for them. If you want to
give such a ball you must be prepared to spend something on it."

"When do you intend having it?" This was a [Pg 59] matter that
interested everybody, and the little man felt very important.

"On Shrove Tuesday, as usual. After that there's always such a long
spell where there's nothing whatever to do. It'll be splendid, I can
tell you, splendid! I hope Sophia Tiralla will come."

"Why shouldn't she, I should like to know?" Schmielke resolved at all
events to secure her for the cotillon in good time, as that meant he
would take her into supper as well.

They all had the same intention, and all had made up their minds to
call on the Tirallas at the earliest opportunity. It was quite a
different kind of thing to clasp a woman like that in your arms instead
of Miss Stumpf, the baker's daughter, who was both clumsy and stout; or
the stupid, snub-nosed Miss Musielak, the stationmaster's daughter; or
even Miss Stanislawa, who was rather pretty, but whose father, Count
Jagodziuski, was the town clerk, and was always borrowing money from
them all. Could even little Jadwiga Haehnel, with the freckles, the rich
mill-owner's only unmarried daughter, or the fair Marianna Rozycki, the
butcher's daughter, who, after the first glass of beer, always fell
violently in love with her partner, could they be compared with Sophia
Tiralla? All the young ladies of Gradewitz, Starawie['s], and
neighbourhood were in turn reviewed, but the prize was unanimously
bestowed on the fair Sophia.

"A pretty little woman, to be sure," said the priest.

"Have you noticed that as well, sir?" asked Schmielke pertly, with a
sly wink.

The schoolmaster started angrily, another impertinence from that man.
Even Zientek gave an embarrassed little cough; really, how could Fritz
say such a thing?

[Pg 60]

But the priest did not appear to have taken it amiss, and laughed when
he saw Schmielke wink. Why shouldn't he see it as