Paul had hardly returned from his wedding trip to Paris when he surprised his friends by a series of quite unexpected business engagements.  He gave up his post as lecturer, in spite of the fact that the appointment as professor for the next six months depended on it; he left his young wife for three weeks, during which nothing was heard of him, except an occasional letter bearing the postmarks of Hamburg, Altona, or Harburg, then he appeared again, and told Malvine that they were to remove from Berlin, to spend in future a portion of the year in Hamburg, but to live chiefly on some property near Harburg.  He had decided to leave his academic profession and become a practical landowner, and accordingly had taken a large leasehold estate.  He gave Wilhelm and Schrotter further particulars of his plans.  The place he had bought was hardly to be called an estate, but a wild desert bit of moorland called “Friesenmoor,” growing only a kind of marsh grass.  This piece of land, from which nothing but peat could be obtained, was worthless, and he had bought it for a few thalers.  After many years of study on the subject, and without saying a word to any living soul, Paul had come to the conclusion that this arid moor could be made into rich arable land by proper cultivation, and seeing money was to be made out of this possession, he decided without loss of time to put his theories into practice.  There was always the risk that he might lose his money, but he had great confidence in his science, and “nothing venture, nothing have.”  He considered it quite unnecessary to explain everything about his speculation to Malvine and the old lady.  He knew, too, that merely the word “speculation” would frighten them to death.

The separation from Malvine dissolved her grandmother and mother into sighs and tears, but during the short time that they had known Paul, his quiet, determined character had made such an impression on the two women that they submitted without a word to whatever he arranged.  Frau Brohl packed up several boxes for her granddaughter, filled with the work of her hands, gave her various recipes for preserving fruits and for fish sauces, and let her go.  She withstood bravely the temptation to fill up the empty room with the overflow furniture from the drawing-room, and spoke on the contrary of leaving the room free, so that the young couple might make it their headquarters when they came to Berlin.  Paul hypocritically invited Frau Brohl and Frau Marker to come and live on his estate—­he did not even fear two mothers-in-law.  Grandmother and mother, though pleased with his attachment for them, declined with thanks.  The cunning dog had reckoned on that refusal.  He would have been in a terrible dilemma had they accepted.  He would then have had to reveal the whole truth, and tell them that his so-called “property” was a mere swamp, where there was no place for one’s feet to tread unless clad in waterproof boots; hardly a fit place for townspeople, accustomed to comfort.  Before the changes on the Friesenmoor could be brought about one fell into pools, one’s feet got fast in boggy earth, and the only inhabitants at present were waterfowl, frogs and toads.  He did not even take Malvine to his property but lived in Hamburg, going to Harburg every morning and returning in the evening.