He was now of age and was able to take his place in the world as a man. The time was come where pride and honour no longer stood in the way and he might tell his love to her whom he deemed the noblest, sweetest girl on the face of the earth. The seed had begun to sprout, the tender green shoot was showing above the soil, and the time was come to tend it that it might grow into a tree; not only was it time to do so, it was his duty. So at last yielding to the dictates of his warm heart, and putting aside all further deliberation, he got into a carriage and set out for Gürlitz parsonage.
Now that he had arrived there, the song of joy his heart had been singing on the journey was hushed, and he stood between the two black-robed women feeling more sorrowful than he had ever done before. The object of his journey must remain unknown, for his own feelings, respect for the grief he saw in his friends, and his own sorrow for the true and good man who had passed away from them, all combined to keep him silent, at the cost of much pain to himself.--Love is selfish and cares nothing for the feelings of others is a common saying, and often a true one. It has a world of its own, and goes it own way as though the fate of others were nothing to it; but when it comes from God, its course is determined by the eternal laws of right and goodness, and its influence on sad hearts is sweet and calm as the light of the evening star.
Such was the character of Frank's love, it could neither hurt nor annoy the people with whom he had to do, on the contrary it comforted and did good to all. He said nothing of the errand that had brought him to Gürlitz, and when he took leave of his friends he felt like the traveller, who, towards the end of a long and toilsome journey, sees a church-spire rising in the distance and walks on cheerily, thinking that his destination will soon be reached, but who is undeceived by the sight of the first houses of the village, and finds that he has yet further to go.
It was a beautiful winter-day when Frank set out to walk from the parsonage to Pümpelhagen, letting the carriage follow slowly. Bräsig went with him. The young man was busily engaged with his own thoughts, while Bräsig was not at all inclined to be silent so that they were by no means suitable companions. Bräsig might certainly have held his tongue and have kept all the stories that came into his head to himself, but it was one of his peculiarities never to see when he was not wanted. He could not help seeing at last that he received no answer to his remarks, and then he stood still, curiously enough, nearly on the same spot where Alick had given him to understand that he did not want his company any further, and asked: "Perhaps my presence is disagreeable to you. It was just about this very place that your cousin Mr. von Rambow told me that he did not wish me to walk with him, if that is the case with you, I can easily leave you alone."--"Dear Mr. Bräsig," said Frank; taking the old man's hand, "don't be angry with me, but I can't help thinking about the death of the good old clergyman, and the sad change that has taken place in the parsonage."--"If that is it," answered Bräsig pressing his hand, "I quite understand, and only think the better of you for it. I have always told Mrs. Behrens and little Louisa that you are one of the cultivated farmers such as one meets with in books, for you have a deal of humanity in you and yet you are quite able to keep order amongst those confounded farm-lads; I tell Rudolph that he can't do better than follow your ensample."--He then went on to tell Frank about Rudolph and Mina, Godfrey and Lina, and from them he passed to other people living in the parish; Frank forced himself to listen attentively, so that by the time they reached Pümpelhagen he knew all that had been going on during his absence, even to the doings of Pomuchelskopp and his Henny.--"Well," said Bräsig in conclusion as they entered the court-yard at Pümpelhagen, "you're going to see your cousin, I suppose, and I'm going to Hawermann, but there is one request that I want to make you; let what I have told you about Pomuchelskopp and his projections remain a secret between us, and you may trust me to have my eye upon him and to put a spoke in his wheel whenever I can."