The entrance of her Pastor made a singular impression upon the Frau Pastorin, at first the waves of passion rose higher than ever, but then it seemed as if oil were poured on the troubled waters; she had indeed often allowed herself a momentary ebullition of anger in his presence; but to break out into flaming wrath! that was quite contrary to her principles, and a droll conflict began in her spirit and gleamed through her round honest face, like the light through a basket lantern; the flame of anger blazed up once more, and then sank down into the deep red glow of shame, that she, a Pastor's wife, and on such a day as this, had so far forgotten herself, and the glow died out in the gray ashes of a wholesome anger with herself, and as her own last words, that Bräsig could never be a governess, recurred to her, and she saw her Pastor laughing, the ashes were blown away by a little gust of merriment, but she held her handkerchief before her face, that the others might not see it. Frau Nüssler had meanwhile been sitting on thorns, and, as the Pastor came in, she sprang up and said, quite distressed, "Herr Pastor, I am the innocent cause of all this trouble. Bräsig, stop your stupid laughing! Frau Pastorin thinks our Mining should be a governess. Dear heart, yes! If you and the Frau Pastorin think it best, it shall be so; you have always advised us for the best. Isn't it so, Jochen, it shall be so?" Jochen slowly emerged from behind the stove. "Yes, it is as true as leather; if she must, she must," and with that, he went out of the room, probably to get the business through his head, in solitude. "But what is all this?" asked the Pastor. "Regina, are you really in earnest?" And Frau Nüssler went up to the little Frau Pastorin. "It shall be just as you say, Frau Pastorin. Bräsig, for shame! Frau Pastorin, don't cry any longer!" and she drew away the handkerchief, and started back in surprise as she met the laughing face. "What does it mean?" she exclaimed. "Only a misunderstanding, dear neighbor," said the old gentleman. "Nobody has thought of Mining being a governess. No! our children shall not swell the number of poor, unhappy maidens thrust out into the world, to earn their bitter bread in this hard calling, with weariness of mind and sickness of body. No, our children shall, with God's blessing, first become fresh, healthy and skilful housewives, and after that they may be governesses, if they like,--that is, to their own children." "Herr Pastor, dear Herr Pastor," cried Frau Nüssler, as if a stone had been lifted from her heart, "God bless you for these words! Our Mining shall not be a governess. Jochen--where are you, Jochen? Ah, he has gone out in his grief! Yes, Herr Pastor, and they shall learn housekeeping! You shall see, I will do my best for them." "Yes," interrupted Bräsig, "and they must learn to cook a good dinner."