That was the end of it. There was no quarrel, but both held to their own determination. Frida would gladly have given way to her husband, if it had not been for the disagreeable feeling left on her mind by what she had heard, which made her feel that Alick said and did things rashly without considering the consequences, and wanted firmness to carry out his intentions. Alick would gladly have given way to his wife had he not felt that Pomuchelskopp was a rich man, and that he might find it useful to be on friendly terms with him; and he would have liked to have gone to Rexow, had it not been that the foolish notions he had picked up in his regiment stuck in his throat.
It was all over now, and could not be altered. The beginning of strife had made its way into the house, and the door had remained ajar so that it might enter in and take up its abode there. Domestic strife may be likened to the tail of a kite, such as children play with, the string forming it is very long, and there are small bundles attached to it at regular intervals. Now though these bundles are only scraps of paper, still when once they get entangled it is long and weary work trying to straighten out the tail again, for there is neither beginning nor end to be found.
The next afternoon they started on foot for Gürlitz, as Alick had agreed to Frida's request to walk instead of driving. After taking her to the door of the parsonage Alick left her, and promising to call for her on his way home, set off for the manor-house.
They had just finished coffee at the Pomuchelskopps, and Phil, Tony and the other little ones were still hanging about the table like foals before the hayrack. They dipped bits of bread into the sugar at the bottom of the coffee-cups, and smeared their faces therewith. Then they mashed up the softened bread with tea-spoons and their fingers, and wrote their own beautiful name "Pomuchelskopp" on the table with spilt coffee and milk, glancing at their mother every now and then innocently, as much as to say, it wasn't me. Mrs. Pomuchelskopp was seated at the table, dressed in her old black gown, and watching the children to see that they were behaving themselves. Pomuchelskopp himself was lying on the sofa smoking, and looking at the picture of domestic happiness, sloppy bread and melted sugar before him. He had finished his coffee, for he always had a cup made particularly for himself, though he never got it, for Mally and Sally whose duty it was to make the coffee in turns used to drink half of the cup prepared for him, and then fill it up from the family coffee-pot. He lay back in the sofa-corner, his left leg crossed over his right according to the ordinance of Duke Adolphus of Cleves: "When a judge is sitting in the judgment-hall, let him always cross his left leg over his right," &c, and if he was not a judge, he was in point of fact more than that; he was a law-giver, and was busy thinking how absolutely necessary it was for him to attend the Mecklenburg parliament when it next met.