They all had the same intention, and all had made up their minds to call on the Tirallas at the earliest opportunity. It was quite a different kind of thing to clasp a woman like that in your arms instead of Miss Stumpf, the baker's daughter, who was both clumsy and stout; or the stupid, snub-nosed Miss Musiëlak, the stationmaster's daughter; or even Miss Stanislawa, who was rather pretty, but whose father, Count Jagodziúski, was the town clerk, and was always borrowing money from them all. Could even little Jadwiga Hähnel, with the freckles, the rich mill-owner's only unmarried daughter, or the fair Marianna Rózycki, the butcher's daughter, who, after the first glass of beer, always fell violently in love with her partner, could they be compared with Sophia Tiralla? All the young ladies of Gradewitz, Starawies, and neighbourhood were in turn reviewed, but the prize was unanimously bestowed on the fair Sophia. "A pretty little woman, to be sure," said the priest. "Have you noticed that as well, sir?" asked Schmielke pertly, with a sly wink. The schoolmaster started angrily, another impertinence from that man. Even Ziëntek gave an embarrassed little cough; really, how could Fritz say such a thing? [Pg 60] But the priest did not appear to have taken it amiss, and laughed when he saw Schmielke wink. Why shouldn't he see it as well as the others? Did he think he was blind? He was fortunately still in possession of his eyesight, and there could surely be nothing wrong in his admiring a pretty creature. The schoolmaster listened in amazement to this free and easy confession. How could his reverence say such things aloud? And in Schmielke's presence too, that heretic. It would of course be at once repeated and turned to account. The others, however, were very much amused by the confession, and shouted and laughed loudly. Jokisch, the inspector, who had hitherto hardly opened his mouth--he had been too busy drinking--now raised his glass. "Long live our priest. We've the best in the whole kingdom. Let him live and let live." They all clinked with the priest, and Jokisch was even so impertinent as to slap him on the shoulder as he said, "What a pity, sir, that you can't go to the ball." "Do you think I couldn't dance, eh?" said the priest, eyeing his long boots, which resembled those of an officer in a cavalry regiment. "You needn't fear that I should be out of place there. What a pity"--he gave a little sigh--"but it would never do." "Why not, I should like to know?" asked Schmielke, and laughed. "The youth does not know the reason why." "Those are some fine ideas you've got," the schoolmaster blurted out. He had worked himself into such a passion that he could not restrain himself any longer. "You Germans seem to have some nice ideas of us. But, of course, you're a heretic." It sounded very [Pg 61] venomous. "It's quite possible that your clergy do such things."