The old man introduced his daughter to Mrs. von Rambow with much loving pride, and the squire's young wife, after a few kindly words of greeting, asked her to come up to Pümpelhagen to see her father and herself. When Hawermann had charged his daughter with messages to Mr. and Mrs. Behrens, they took leave of Louisa, and continued their walk.--"The clergyman and his wife are very good people, are they not?" asked Frida.--"Madam," said Hawermann, "I can't give you an impartial answer to that question. They have saved all that remained to me after my misfortunes. They have brought up my only child with loving care, and have taught her all the good she knows. I can never think of them without the greatest reverence and the deepest gratitude. But if you want to know more about them, ask any one you like in the parish. Rich and poor, high and low will all speak of them with affection."--"Mr. Pomuchelskopp too?" asked the lady.--"If he were to speak honestly and without prejudice, he would bear the same testimony," answered the old man; "but unfortunately he had a disagreement with the parson when he first came here about the glebe. It was not Mr. Behrens' fault. I was the real cause of it, for it was I who persuaded the late squire to take a lease of the land. And, Madam," he continued after a pause, "Pümpelhagen can never pay so well without the glebe; having the lease of it is an advantage that cannot be given up without great loss."--Frida made the bailiff explain to her in what this advantage consisted, and as soon as she understood the whole case, she determined that she would do her best to keep the glebe for Pümpelhagen.
When they got home, they saw attorney Slus'uhr and David driving away from the door, and Alick bowing and smiling as much as if Slus'uhr had been his colonel, and David had been a young count.--"Who is that?" Frida asked of Hawermann.--He told her.--When she came up to her husband, she said: "What have you to do with these people, Alick, and why were you so extraordinarily polite to them?"--"Polite?" repeated Alick rather confused. "Why not? I am polite to every body," glancing at Hawermann as he spoke.--"Of course you are," said his young wife, slipping her hand within his arm, "but these were common Jew traders, and ...."--"My dear child," interrupted Alick, who did not wish her to finish her sentence, "the man is a wool-stapler, and I've no doubt I shall often have to do business with him."--"And the other?" she asked,--"Oh, he is--he only happened to come with his friend. I've nothing to do with him."--"Good-bye, Mr. Hawermann," said Frida, shaking hands with the old man, "and thank you so very much for having gone with me this morning." She then went into the house, and Alick followed her; but he looked round again when he had reached the door-way, and saw that the old bailiff's eyes were fixed on him sorrowfully. He could not meet that sad gaze, and turning away he followed his wife into the house.