You might perhaps manage with the boots, and the coat, and the High-German—­though you’re rather out of practice—­but you’d never get on with the women.  The Countess is always poking about to see that all’s going on rightly in the cattle-sheds and pig-sties,—­in short—­it’s, it’s as bad as Sodom and Gomorrah.”  “Bless me!” cried Mrs. Nuessler, “I remember now.  The farm-bailiff at Puempelhagen left at the midsummer-term, and that would just be the place for you, Charles.”  “Mrs. Nuessler is right, as usual,” said Braesig.  “As for the Councillor[6] at Puempelhagen”—­he always gave the squire of Puempelhagen his professional title, and laid such an emphasis on the word councillor that one might have thought that he and Mr. von Rambow had served their time in the army together, or at least had eaten their soup out of the same bowl with the same spoon—­“as for the Councillor at Puempelhagen, he is very kind to all his people, gives a good salary, and is quite a gentleman of the old school.  He knows all about you too.  It’s just the very thing for you, Charles, and I’ll go with you tomorrow.  What do you say, young Joseph?” “Ah!” said Mr. Nuessler meditatively, “it all depends upon circumstances.”  “Good gracious!” exclaimed Mrs. Nuessler with a look of anxiety on her pretty face.  “I’m forgetting everything today.  If grandfather and grandmother ever find out that we’ve been having a supper-party here without their knowledge, they’ll never forgive me as long as I live.  Sit a little closer children.  You might have reminded me, Joseph.”  “What shall I do now?” asked Joseph, but she had already left the room.

A few minutes later she came back, accompanied by the two old people.  There was an expression of anxious watchfulness and aimless attention in both faces, such as deaf people often have, and which is apt to degenerate into a look of inanity and distrust.  It is a very true saying that when a husband and wife have lived many years together, and have shared each other’s thoughts and interests, they at last grow to be like one another in appearance, and even when the features are different the expression becomes the same.  Old Mr. and Mrs. Nuessler looked thoroughly soured, and as if they had never had the least bit of happiness or enjoyment all their lives long, such things being too expensive for them; their clothes were threadbare and dirty, as if they must always be saving, saving, and even found water a luxury that cost too much money.  There was nothing comfortable about their old age, not a single gleam of kindliness shone in their lack-lustre eyes, for they had never had but one joy, and that was their son Joseph, and his getting on in the world.  They were now worn out, and everything was tiresome to them, even their one joy, their son Joseph, was tiresome, but they were still anxious and troubled about his getting on in the world, that was the only thing they cared for now.  The old man had become a little childish, but his wife had still all her wits about her, and could spy and pry into every hole and corner, to see that everything was going on as she wished.