Perhapsofall，ittroubledmosttheHerrPfarrer。Washenotthefatherofthevillage？Andassuchdiditnotfalltohimtoseehischildrenmarrywellandsuitably？marryinanycase。Itwasthedutyofeveryworthycitizentokeepalivethroughouttheagesthesacredhearthfire，torearupsturdyladsandhonestlassiesthatwouldserveGod，andtheFatherland。AtruesonofSaxonsoilwastheHerrPastorWinckelmann—kindly，simple，sentimental。
　　"Why，atyourage，Ulrich—atyourage，"repeatedtheHerrPastor，settingdownhisbeerandwipingwiththebackofhishandhislargeunevenlips，"Iwasthefatherofafamily—twoboysandagirl。Youneversawher，Ulrich;sosweet，sogood。WecalledherMaria。"TheHerrPfarrersighedandhidhisbroadredfacebehindtheraisedcoverofhispewterpot。
　　"Theymustbegoodfuninahouse，thelittleones，"commentedUlrich，gazingupwardwithhisdreamyeyesatthewreathofsmokeascendingfromhislong—stemmedpipe。"Thelittleones，alwaysmyheartgoesouttothem。"
　　"Taketoyourselfawife，"urgedtheHerrPfarrer。"Itisyourduty。
　　ThegoodGodhasgiventoyouamplemeans。Itisnotrightthatyoushouldleadthislonelylife。Bachelorsmakeoldmaids;thingsofnouse。"
　　"Thatisso，"Ulrichagreed。"Ihaveoftensaidthesameuntomyself。
　　Itwouldbepleasanttofeelonewasnotworkingmerelyforoneself。"
　　"Elsa，now，"wentontheHerrPfarrer，"sheisagoodchild，piousandeconomical。Thepriceofsuchisaboverubies。"
　　Ulrich"sfacelightenedwithapleasantsmile。"Aye，Elsaisagoodgirl，"heanswered。"Herlittlehands—haveyouevernoticedthem，HerrPastor—sosoftanddimpled。"
　　ThePfarrerpushedasidehisemptypotandleanedhiselbowsonthetable。
　　"Ithink—Idonotthink—shewouldsayno。Hermother，Ihavereasontobelieve—Letmesoundthem—discreetly。"Theoldpastor'sredfaceglowedredder，yetwithpleasurableanticipation;hewasabornmatchmaker。
　　ButUlrichthewheelwrightshuffledinhischairuneasily。
　　"Alittlelonger，"hepleaded。"Letmethinkitover。Amanshouldnotmarrywithoutfirstbeingsureheloves。Thingsmighthappen。Itwouldnotbefairtothemaiden。"
　　TheHerrPfarrerstretchedhishandacrossthetableandlaidituponUlrich'sarm。
　　"ItisHedwig;twiceyouwalkedhomewithherlastweek。"
　　"Itisalonesomewayforatimidmaiden;andthereisthestreamtocross，"explainedthewheelwright。
　　ForamomenttheHerrPastor'sfacehadclouded，butnowitclearedagain。
　　"Well，well，whynot？Elsawouldhavebeenbetterinsomerespects，butHedwig—ah，yes，she，too，isagoodgirlalittlewildperhaps—itwillwearoff。Haveyouspokenwithher？"
　　"Notyet。"
　　"Butyouwill？"
　　Againtherefellthattroubledlookintothosedreamyeyes。ThistimeitwasUlrichwho，layingasidehispipe，restedhisgreatarmsuponthewoodentable。
　　"Now，howdoesamanknowwhenheisinlove？"askedUlrichofthePastorwho，havingbeenmarriedtwice，shouldsurelybeexperienceduponthepoint。"Howshouldhebesurethatitisthiswomanandnoothertowhomhishearthasgoneout？"
　　Acommonplace—lookingmanwastheHerrPastor，shortandfatandbald。
　　Buttherehadbeenotherdays，andthesehadlefttohimavoicethatstillwasyoung;andtheeveningtwilightscreeningthesearedface，Ulrichheardbutthepastor'svoice，whichwasthevoiceofaboy。
　　"Shewillbedearertoyouthanyourself。Thinkingofher，allelsewillbeasnothing。Forheryouwouldlaydownyourlife。"
　　Theysatinsilenceforawhile;forthefatlittleHerrPfarrerwasdreamingofthepast;andlong，lankyUlrichNebendahl，thewheelwright，ofthefuture。
　　Thatevening，aschancewouldhaveit，Ulrichreturningtohishomestead—aramblingmillbesidetheriver，wherehedweltalonewithancientAnna—metElsaofthedimpledhandsuponthebridgethatspansthemurmuringMuhlde，andtalkedawhilewithher，andsaidgood—night。
　　Howsweetithadbeentowatchherox—likeeyesshylyseekinghis，topressherdimpledhandandfeelhisowngreatstrength。Surelyhelovedherbetterthanhedidhimself。Therecouldbenodoubtofit。