"Touched, I nodded to her, and then the carriage rolled away with me, in the misty autumn morning. What a refreshing odor came from the pine-forests; a golden mist hung over the distant heath, and the sky seemed higher and bluer than I had seen it for a long time. And yet it seemed as if I were breathing the heavy air before a thunder-storm the nearer I came to Dambitz and the shaded manor-house. We drove past the burned houses; the charred beams and timbers were still smoking, and thin columns of smoke circled up from the ruins; a loathsome odor lay about the unfortunate spot, but human hands were already at work again. The blacksmith's shop was half demolished, the gabled wall was warped by the heat of the fire, and the blacksmith's young wife was bravely rummaging among her household goods, which had been thrown, _nolens volens_, into the street, a promiscuous heap of beds, clothing, and furniture. A little woman was sitting on a chest, weeping bitterly; it was her husband who had met with the fatal accident last night, the coachman told me. A young girl of perhaps sixteen was hunting about the half-burned and partially wet rubbish; her eyes were swollen with weeping.
"'You poor people,' thought I; 'no one can give you back what has been taken from you, but we will help to replace the earthly property.' And I looked at the small but heavy roll in my hand; it was a not insignificant sum in gold. Well for him who can give, and gives gladly and lovingly!
"We now drove along by the park wall; the great gate of skilfully wrought iron stood open; the luxuriant foliage of the beautiful park here parted, and let the eye roam over velvety green lawns and broad flower-beds to the white, castle-like buildings. Awnings protected the terrace from the sun's rays, and a black and white flag waved gayly in the morning wind. A delicious freshness lay over the garden; not a yellow leaf was yet to be seen on the broad gravel-walk; everywhere most painstaking neatness.
"I called to the coachman to stop, and had myself lifted out of the carriage, so as to walk through the park. I do not know myself how the idea came into my head. How long it was since I had been here! I was then still a girl; my sister-in-law was by my side, and Klaus and Edwin, wild lads, rushing about us. I felt very strangely; there was still the little bridge of tree-trunks, the ingeniously planned moat, which always used to be dry; to-day water was splashing in it. The trees had grown taller, the shrubbery more luxuriant, and a marble Diana stood out against the green of the taxus-hedge. Stürmer's taste for the beautiful struck me at every step. At home no one thought of marble statues and English turf; at home the wish had never yet been spoken to see such jets of crystal water as those shooting up before the group of fine old elms; there was still the same old garden with its gnarled oaks, its primitive arbors, its flower-sprinkled grass-plots; but it was pleasant and home-like, as it is to-day.