in having been plunged in one day from
the highest joy to the deepest sorrow.

Thoma trembled. She had never before placed the two events so close
together. Madame Pfann felt the awkwardness of her remark, and
endeavored to reassure her by saying that she had no doubt that she
could adjust the difficulty with Anton, for he had great confidence in
her. Thoma soon became more composed, but she was still silent.

Madame Pfann urged her strongly to lighten her father's imprisonment by
visiting him.

"You mean it well, I know," replied Thoma, "you are very good, but I
cannot; I cannot go down the road, and up the prison stairs, and I
should be no comfort to my father, quite the contrary. It is better as
it is."

"It is not better, only more comfortable, more easy for you; you will
not conquer yourself."

Thoma was silent.

Madame Pfann arranged for Tobias to take the dog to its master.

She then went to see Cushion-Kate, who called out:

"You went to Landolin's first. I'll not let you into my house."

She bolted the door and Madame Pfann went quietly homeward.

CHAPTER XXIII.

"The house is changed when the husband's hat no longer hangs on its
accustomed nail," the farmer's wife often said. Her thoughts were not
many, but those she had she liked to repeat like a pater noster.

When, on the morning after her husband's arrest she said this for the
first time, and was about handing Thoma the keys, Peter called out:

"Mother, give me the keys; I am the son of the house, and I must take
the reins now."

If the stove had spoken they could not have been more astonished.
Peter, whom they had all looked upon as a dull, idle fellow, who did
only what he was told, and never undertook anything of himself--Peter
of a sudden gave notice of what he was and what he wanted, and even his
voice, generally heavy and drawling, became somewhat commanding and
energetic. In reality a transformation had begun in Peter. He ceased to
be taciturn and became almost talkative. His natural effort to aid his
father had called forth a latent energy, which no one, least of all
himself, had ever suspected, and which once aroused, continually grew
in strength. Other awakenings assisted in changing his trouble into a
joyous sense of courage; yes, almost of presumption. It was not only at
home, but in the whole neighborhood that people saw with astonishment
how his father's absence had changed him. The head-s