Alick remembered that he had had that good-for-nothing fellow to dine with him at his own table, and that by Hawermann's fault. The conversation had irritated him so much, that he, not finding the shortbread a sufficient inducement to prolong his visit, took leave, and was accompanied by Pomuchelskopp as far as the gate of the court-yard. "Is what you have told me about my cousin quite true?" asked Alick as they crossed the yard.--"Mr. von Rambow," said Pomuchelskopp, "I'm a quiet old man, and people at my age don't trouble themselves about love stories. I only repeated what others had told me."--"Ah well, I suppose that it's a mere passing caprice; a case of 'out of sight, out of mind.'"--"No, I don't think so," replied Pomuchelskopp thoughtfully. "If I know Hawermann at all, he's a sly dog, and too wide awake to his own interest to let such a chance slip out of his fingers. Your cousin has fallen into his toils."--"The boy has only lost his head," said Alick, "and he'll soon learn more sense. Good-bye, Mr. Pomuchelskopp. Thank you for telling me about my cousin. I hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing you at my house. Good-bye," and with that he turned down the road to the right--"I beg your pardon," cried Pomuchelskopp. "You're going the wrong way. The Pümpelhagen road is to the left."--"I know," said Alick, "but I'm going to the parsonage to fetch my wife. Goodbye."
"Ah!" said Pomuchelskopp as he went back to the house. "This is charming, de-lightful! And why shouldn't she be there? It's quite proper for Mr. von Rambow to come to my house, but I'm not good enough for his wife to know! Children," he exclaimed as he entered the family sitting-room, "Mrs. von Rambow is at the parsonage. We ar'n't grand enough for her ladyship I suppose!"--"Well, Pöking," said his wife, "I congratulate you upon having been again taken in by an aristocrat."--"Is it possible!" cried Sally.--"It's an undoubted fact," said her father, giving Tony and Phil the remains of the short bread, and then added: "Now be off, you young rascals." After that he threw himself into the sofa corner and slashed at the flies, while his wife hovered about him, and made satirical remarks about grand acquaintances, beggars and aristocrats: "Sally," she said at last, "take that bottle of wine back to the cellar, there's enough of it remaining for your father to treat another of his grand friends on some future occasion."--After a long silence she exclaimed: "Come to the window, father. Look there. Your grand friend and his butterfly wife are passing, and do you see who they've got with them. Your incendiary old Bräsig."