Lenz enjoined on his worthy friend to take care of himself, and said he had now done enough for others. Just in good time he remembered that he had intended to invite old Proebler. Faller offered to go and fetch him. Old Proebler came, but he would not be persuaded to go into the public room, as he had no Sunday suit; so Lenz gave him a dish heaped up with meat, enough to last three days at least, and a good bottle of wine into the bargain. The old man was so surprised, that he almost forgot to offer his usual pinch of snuff; and all he said was, "I will bring back the bottle." Lenz said he might keep it, which pleased old Proebler immensely, and he quickly took himself off. When Lenz and Annele were on their way home, morning was almost breaking; and though the moon was up, it was again covered with heavy clouds. On this occasion they were without either escort or torches. Annele complained that it was frightfully dark, and that she was so weary she could scarcely stand. "I ought to have stayed at home to-night," said she. "Home?--how do you mean? Your home is up on the hill there." Annele was silent, and the two walked on together quietly for a time. "Did you count the money we got today?" said Annele at last. "No--I can do that at home. I know there must be a good deal, for it is such a weight. It was lucky that your father lent me one of his empty purses." "What do you mean by empty purses? He has plenty full enough," said Annele quickly. "I neither inquired about that, nor even once thought about it." She now pressed forward up the hill, so that Lenz might get home to count the money. When they arrived he did so, but too slowly according to her ideas, and she soon showed him that a landlord's daughter knew better how to set about it. While she was counting, Lenz said:--"I take a different view of the case. It is just as well that we should have accepted presents from these poor people: it does them credit in the eyes of others, and enables them, one and all, to accept assistance from us in any difficulty without hesitation." Annele looked up at him in the midst of her reckoning. Lenz had always his own peculiar reasons for everything. He never agreed to anything simply because it appeared to be so to others, but delayed his assent till he was convinced himself of the fact, and then he was thoroughly converted. Annele said nothing, but kept repeating the number she had arrived at, for fear of forgetting it. There were exactly one hundred and twenty gulden collected, deducting four bad smaller coins. Annele railed violently at those unprincipled men, who could deceive by giving base money. Lenz tried to pacify her by saying--"Don't say that--perhaps they were poor men who had nothing else to give," Annele's eyes flashed, and she replied testily:--"It appears that you know everything, and that I know nothing." "I did not in the least mean that. Don't be so hasty."