Hawermann never heard of what had happened at the parsonage, but from that day his daughter was even more loving and tender to him than before, as if she had determined that her love should wipe away the scandalous words that had been spoken regarding him. Mrs. Nüssler of course heard all about it from her children, but she had not the heart to trouble her brother by telling him what would so sorely distress him; the clergyman and his wife were silent for the same reason, and also because they hoped that the circumstance would die out of their foster-child's memory, if it were never alluded to; Joseph Nüssler said nothing, and Bräsig held his tongue as far as Hawermann himself was concerned, but he indemnified himself for his silence, and for the sharp attack of gout which came on the day after the scene at the parsonage, by nearly raising the country-side against the Pomuchelskopps, who so little understood how to gain the love and good will of their neighbours, that they soon made themselves as disagreeable in the eyes of those who lived near them as my wife's[8] floors just before Whitsuntide--well-polished and shining as they are at other times. Pomuchelskopp looked upon his surroundings as a great garden in which he might plant his self-esteem. Whether it gave him shade or flowers he did not care; as long as what was sowed there flourished and grew apace, it mattered not to him what form it took. He had come to Mecklenburg for two reasons: firstly, because he thought the purchase of Gürlitz a good bargain, and secondly, because he had an exalted idea of his future position as justice of the peace. "Henny," he said, "every one has the upper-hand of us here in Pomerania, and the Sheriff is all-powerful, but in Mecklenburg _I_ shall be one of the law-givers. And besides that, I've always heard that if rich men of the middle-class only stick to the aristocracy through thick and thin, they receive a patent of nobility after a time. Only think, Chuck, Mrs. von Pomuchelskopp!--how would you like that? One mustn't crow too small in this world!"--That was a sin of which he never was guilty. He gave up his chief delight of making a great show with his money for fear of having to do it in the company of tenant-farmers and bailiffs, and he addressed old Bräsig coldly and distantly, and paid a visit of ceremony to Bräsig's master, the Count, instead of to his old acquaintance. He put on his blue coat with the brass buttons, and drove to Warnitz in his grand new carriage drawn by four brown horses, and when he got there he was as much out of place as a pig in a Jew's house. As soon as he reached home again he seated himself crossly in the sofa-corner, and flapped at the flies. His wife who was always loving to him when he was in a bad-humour, asked him: "What is the matter with you. Pöking?"--He growled out in reply: "What should be the matter with me? It isn't me, it's those confounded aristocrats who are friendly one moment, and turn