"Only this Karl, that they didn't fit the Frau Pastorin at all well, because she is much too large for them." "Zachary," said Habermann, reaching his hand over the fence, "these are merely evasions. _Will_ you not tell me,--and we such old friends,--or _dare_ you not tell me?" "Karl--the devil take the whole rendezvous business, and the Frau Pastorin's worry besides!" cried Bräsig, and grasped Habermann's hand across the fence, and shook it in the tall nettles that grew by the fence, until both were stung, and drew back. "Karl, I will tell you. The Pastor will tell you himself--why shouldn't I? Your Fritz Triddelsitz, the cursed greyhound, loved you, doubtless because you have been like a father to him, and now his love has gone on to Louise, for love always goes on, for instance, mine for your sister and Mining." "Bräsig, speak seriously." "Am I not speaking seriously, when I speak of your sister and Mining?" "I know that," said Habermann, reaching after Bräsig's hand again, in spite of the nettles, "but what had Franz to do with it all?" "For all I know, he may love you too, for your fatherly kindness, and for all I know, his love may have gone on to your daughter." "That would be a misfortune!" cried Habermann, "a great misfortune! To put that right again, is more than I can do; the Lord himself must help us!" "I don't know about that, Karl: he has two estates----" "Not a word, Zachary: come in, and tell me all you know." And when Bräsig had told all that he knew, and was again under way, and steering toward Rexow, Habermann stood looking after him and talking to himself: "He is a good fellow, his heart is in the right place; and, if I found it was really so, I should like it right well,--but--but----" He did not mean Bräsig this time, however, he meant Franz. On this Sunday morning young Jochen was sitting, about breakfast time, in his usual chimney-corner, and in his arm-chair. Lining and Mining had spread the table for breakfast, and had brought in the dishes of ham, and sausage, and bread, and butter, and when all stood ready on the table, Frau Nüssler herself came in, and set down a platter of hot scrambled eggs, saying: "There, Jochen, don't let it get cold!" and went out again, to see about some thing or other.