Uli was her husband; she had taken root in life, in the broad
world; they were the centre about which a great household revolved,
circling about their will. In a hundred different forms this picture
rose before her eyes, and ever fairer and lovelier became the harmony of
its colors. She no longer knew that she was driving in the wagon; her
heart felt as light and happy as if she were already breathing the air
of that world where there is no more care, no more sorrow--but just then
the wagon bumped over a stone.
Freneli did not feel it; but her aunt awoke with a long yawn and asked,
finding it hard to collect her thoughts, "Where are we, hey? I haven't
been asleep, I hope."
Uli said, "If you look sharply, you can see our light yonder through the
trees."
"Gracious, how I have slept! I wouldn't have believed it. If only
Joggeli doesn't scold because we're so late."
"It doesn't matter," said Uli; "and Blackie can rest tomorrow; we don't
need him."
"Well, well," said his mistress, "then that's all the better. But when
horses get home late and have to start out early, that's maltreatment.
Just imagine how we'd feel if they did the same to us--run, run all the
time, and no time for eating and sleeping."
As they heard the approaching wagon, all the inhabitants of Slough Farm
rushed out of the doors with candles and lanterns, some to the horse,
others to the wagon; even Joggeli limped up, saying, "I thought you
wouldn't get here today, thought something had happened.
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