“And then, a few days later, somebody from Erfurt drove up to the mayor’s office and asked whether there was not a wet nurse there, and the mayor said ‘yes,’ God bless him!  So the strange gentleman took me away with him and from that day I was better off.  Even with the old widow my life was tolerable, and finally I came to your Ladyship.  That was the best, the best of all.”  As she said this she stepped to the sofa and kissed Effi’s hand.

“Roswitha, you must not always be kissing my hand, I don’t like it.  And do beware of Kruse.  Otherwise you are a good and sensible person—­With a married man—­it is never well.”

“Ah, your Ladyship, God and his saints lead us wondrously, and the bad fortune that befalls us has also its good side.  If one is not made better by it there is no help for him—­Really, I like the men.”

“You see, Roswitha, you see.”

“But if the same feeling should come over me again—­the affair with Kruse, there is nothing in that—­and I could not control myself, I should run straight into the water.  It was too terrible.  Everything.  And I wonder what ever became of the poor baby?  I don’t think it is still living; they had it killed, but I am to blame.”  She threw herself down by Annie’s cradle, and rocked the child and sang her favorite lullaby over and over again without stopping.

“Stop,” said Effi, “don’t sing any more; I have a headache.  Bring in the newspapers.  Or has Gieshuebler sent the journals?”

“He did, and the fashion paper was on top.  We were turning over the leaves, Johanna and I, before she went across the street.  Johanna always gets angry that she cannot have such things.  Shall I fetch the fashion paper?”

“Yes, fetch it and bring me the lamp, too.”

Roswitha went out and when Effi was alone she said:  “What things they do have to help one out!  One pretty woman with a muff and another with a half veil—­fashion puppets.  But it is the best thing for turning my thoughts in some other direction.”

In the course of the following morning a telegram came from Innstetten, in which he said he would come by the second train, which meant that he would not arrive in Kessin before evening.  The day proved one of never ending restlessness.  Fortunately Gieshuebler came in the afternoon and helped pass an hour.  Finally, at seven o’clock, the carriage drove up.  Effi went out and greeted her husband.  Innstetten was in a state of excitement that was unusual for him and so it came about that he did not notice the embarrassment mingled with Effi’s heartiness.  In the hall the lamps and candles were burning, and the tea service, which Frederick had placed on one of the tables between the cabinets, reflected the brilliant light.

“Why, this looks exactly as it did when we first arrived here.  Do you remember, Effi?”

She nodded.

“Only the shark with his fir bough behaves more calmly today, and even Rollo pretends to be reticent and does not put his paws on my shoulders.  What is the matter with you, Rollo?”