am supposed to come back, and it is even arranged
that I shall be back in Kessin in a week at the latest. But it is
possible that I may _not_ come back. I don't need to tell you all the
thousand possibilities--I see you are about to tell me I am still too
young to--but young people sometimes die. And then there are so many
other things. So I prefer to take leave of you as though it were for
ever."

"But, most gracious Lady--"

"As though it were for ever. And I want to thank you, dear Gieshuebler.
For you were the best thing here; naturally, because you were the best
man. If I live to be a hundred years old I shall not forget you. I
have felt lonely here at times, and at times my heart was so heavy,
heavier than you can ever know. I have not always managed rightly. But
whenever I have seen you, from the very first day, I have always felt
happier, and better, too."

"Oh, most gracious Lady."

"And I wished to thank you for it. I have just bought a small bottle
of _sal volatile_. There are often such remarkable people in the
compartment, who will not even permit a window to be opened. If I shed
any tears--for, you know, it goes right up into one's head, the salts,
I mean--then I will think of you. Adieu, dear friend, and give my
regards to your friend, Miss Trippelli. During these last weeks I have
often thought of her and of Prince Kotschukoff. After all is said and
done it remains a peculiar relation. But I can understand it--and let
me hear from you some day. Or I shall write."

With these words Effi went out. Gieshuebler accompanied her out upon
the square. He was dumbfounded, so completely that he entirely
overlooked many enigmatical things she said.

Effi went back home. "Bring me the lamp, Johanna," she said, "but into
my bedroom. And then a cup of tea. I am so cold and cannot wait till
his Lordship returns."

The lamp and the tea came. Effi was already sitting at her little
writing desk, with a sheet of letter paper before her and the pen in
her hand. "Please, Johanna, put the tea on the table there."

When Johanna had left the room Effi locked her door, looked into the
mirror for a moment and then sat down again, and wrote: "I leave
tomorrow by the boat, and these are farewell lines. Innstetten expects
me back in a few days, but I am _not_ coming back--why I am not coming
back, you know--it would have been better if I had never seen this
corner of the earth. I implore you not to take this as a reproach.