"You mean well and kindly, but it would not do. Lenz, you are a singular man. You are a born husband and father of a family: you must marry, and already I rejoice at the thoughts of telling your children stories of my travels. And when I become old, and can no longer earn my bread, then I shall be only too thankful if you will take me into your house, and cram me with good things till I die. But now keep your eyes open, and remember I shall not be offended; on the contrary, it is my advice, that you depreciate me before your uncle, who hates me; and then, perhaps, he will leave you something in his will. You have quite talent enough to accept a legacy. I have a remarkable talent in that line myself; but unluckily all my relations are poor, or at least rich only in children. I am the only one of the family who has anything to leave, so you see I am a rich uncle like Petrowitsch." His friend cheered Lenz, just as a passing sunny shower at that moment refreshed all nature. They waited till the rain was over, and then they went together to the "Lion," at the door of which they parted, for Pilgrim said he did not wish to go into the room where Petrowitsch was, along with Lenz. A carriage was standing before the inn, and the landlord accompanied a young man to the door, giving him two fingers in token of farewell, and touching his cap. The young man looked up, and waved his hand to the wife and daughter in the room above, desiring the driver to drive on, and to wait for him at the Doctor's house. When he passed the two friends, he bowed and took off his cap. "Do you know who that is?" asked Pilgrim. "No." "Nor I either," said Pilgrim. "Who is that stranger?" said he to the Landlord. "The brother of my son-in-law." "Oh, oh!" whispered Pilgrim to Lenz. "Now I remember--he is one of Annele's admirers." Lenz went hurriedly upstairs. Pilgrim did not see the expression of his face. CHAPTER X. A DINNER WITH PETROWITSCH. Petrowitsch was not yet arrived. In the mean time Lenz seated himself at his uncle's table, and conversed with the family and Pilgrim. Annele was unusually sparing of her words today; indeed, when Lenz offered her his hand when he came in, she affected to be too busy to take it. No doubt her hand is promised, and she can no longer give it to any one, even in common courtesy. And yet she does not look much like a bride. Uncle Petrowitsch now arrived; at least his dog appeared as his precursor--a mongrel, between a _dachs_ and a terrier. "Good day, Lenz!" said his uncle, rather crabbedly. "I expected you yesterday. Did you forget that I had invited you?" "Indeed I did. I must confess that it quite went out of my head."