Listening to his son's thanks the old man fell asleep. He had nothing more to attend to, and a few days later the angel of the Lord had closed his eyes forever, and Hauke came into his paternal inheritance. On the day after the funeral Elke came to his house. "Thank you for looking in, Elke!" was Hauke's greeting. But she answered: "I am not just looking in; I want to tidy the house a little so that you can live in comfort. With all his figures and drawings your father had not time to look about him much and death too brings confusion; I'll make it a little homelike for you again!" He looked at her with his gray eyes full of trust: "Tidy up, then," he said; "I like it better too." And so she began to clear up the room. The drawing-board which still lay there was dusted and put away in the attic. Drawing-pens, pencils and chalk were carefully locked away in a drawer of the strong chest. Then the young servant was called in and helped to move the furniture of the whole room into a different and better position so that there seemed to be more light and space. "Only we women can do that," said Elke, smiling, and Hauke, in spite of his grief for his father, looked on with happy eyes and helped too when it was necessary. And when, towards twilight--it was at the beginning of September--everything was as she wanted it for him, she took his hand and nodded to him with her dark eyes. "Now come and have supper with us; I had to promise my father to bring you back with me; then when you come home later everything will be ready for you." When they entered the spacious living-room of the dikegrave, where the shutters were already closed and the two lights burning on the table, the old man started to get up out of his armchair but his heavy body sank back again and he contented himself with calling out to his former servant: "That's right, Hauke, I'm glad you've come to look up your old friends again! Just come nearer, nearer!" And when Hauke came up to his chair he took his hand in both his podgy ones and said: "Well, well, my boy, don't grieve too much, for we must all die and your father was not one of the worst! But, come, Elke, bring the roast in; we need to strengthen ourselves! There is a lot of work ahead of us, Hauke! The autumn inspection is coming on; the dike and sluice accounts are piled as high as the house; then there's the recent damage to the dike on the western koog--I don't know which way to turn my head; but yours, thank God, is a good bit younger; you are a good lad, Hauke!" And after this long speech in which the old man had laid bare his whole heart, he fell back in his chair and blinked longingly at the door through which Elke was just entering with the roast. Hauke stood beside him smiling. "Now sit down," said the dikegrave; "we mustn't waste time; this dish doesn't taste good cold."