“I?  Her?  Oh, heaven forbid!”

“You are very sad, however, and there must be some cause.”

“There is, too, your Ladyship.”

“Do you know me?”

“Yes.  You are the wife of the district councillor across the street from us.  I was always talking with the old woman about you.  But the time came when she could talk no more, because she could not draw a good breath.  There was something the matter with her here, dropsy, perhaps.  But so long as she could speak she spoke incessantly.  She was a genuine Berlin—­”

“Good woman?”

“No.  If I said that it would be a lie.  She is in her grave now and we ought not to say anything bad about the dead, especially as even they hardly have peace.  Oh well, I suppose she has found peace.  But she was good for nothing and was quarrelsome and stingy and made no provision for me.  The relatives who came yesterday from Berlin * * * were very rude and unkind to me and raised all sorts of objections when they paid me my wages, merely because they had to and because there are only six more days before the beginning of a new quarter.  Otherwise I should have received nothing, or only half, or only a quarter—­nothing with their good will.  And they gave me a torn five-mark note to pay my fare back to Berlin.  Well, it is just enough for a fourth-class ticket and I suppose I shall have to sit on my luggage.  But I won’t do it.  I will sit here and wait till I die—­Heavens, I thought I should have peace here and I could have stood it with the old woman, too.  But now this has come to nothing and I shall have to be knocked around again.  Besides, I am a Catholic.  Oh, I have had enough of it and I wish I lay where the old woman lies.  She might go on living for all of me. * * ”

Rollo, who had accompanied Effi, had meanwhile sat down before the maid, with his tongue away out, and looked at her.  When she stopped talking he arose, stepped forward, and laid his head upon her knees.  Suddenly she was transformed.  “My, this means something for me.  Why, here is a creature that can endure me, that looks at me like a friend and lays its head on my knees.  My, it has been a long time since anything like that has happened to me.  Well, old boy, what’s your name?  My, but you are a splendid fellow!”

“Rollo,” said Effi.

“Rollo; that is strange.  But the name makes no difference.  I have a strange name, too, that is, forename.  And the likes of me have no other, you know.”

“What is your name?”

“I am called Roswitha.”

“Yes, that is strange; why, that is—­”

“Yes, quite right, your Ladyship, it is a Catholic name.  And that is another trouble, that I am a Catholic.  From Eichsfeld.  Being a Catholic makes it harder and more disagreeable for me.  Many won’t have Catholics, because they run to the church so much. * * ”

“Roswitha,” said Effi, sitting down by her on the bench.  “What are you going to do now?”