Pastor Kavel asked me to offer her cake and reproached me for neglecting her so much. She ate a piece of cake with me and also said a few things, in particular she told me that she wasn't completely calm yet, but hoped to be so soon. But then she left me, pretending that she was so distracted by her father's engagement, which was taking place at the very moment for which, as she said, she felt so strongly. Yesterday I said to Mr. Fiedler that I wished that Bertha would at least part from me in peace if the old relationship could not continue. Fiedler quickly said he wanted to introduce it to her; When I asked him today about Bertha, he said that she had said that she would very much like to part from me in peace and that she would not avoid me as a friend if I only wanted to keep quiet about the matter.
Everything was full of joy this evening, and a nameless feeling of pain and desolation followed me all the way to the bed; Bertha was standing in the door of the priest's apartment when I said goodnight to her.
I slept in the school teacher's bed at Mr. Till's house, and although it was already 2 a.m. when I went to bed, I was already at Fiedler at 7 a.m. in the morning. Bertha acted very strange to me until breakfast, when I helped her move the table away from the wall and she was a little friendlier. After breakfast I showed her a reflection from Hiller's
May 1st, 1840.
Today Mr. Meyer brought us a letter from the company with the important news that two brothers, namely Klose and Meyer, the latter married, are on their way here. I wrote this to Bertha so that if she was afraid of the loneliness in Encounter Bay, this might be an encouragement to her. She didn't send this letter back to me. My hope was weak in these days, but still alive, but my pain was very great.
Mr. Kook came to me, went to Klemzig the next Sunday morning and only returned on Tuesday evening.
May 5th, 1840.
Around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, Fiedler's Julius came to me; When I saw him from a distance, I went to meet him with more joyful expectation, but how frightened I was when I saw the parasol in his hands, which I had previously given to Bertha. The farewell letter that accompanied the gifts made a devastating, but at the same time a renunciating impression on me, the latter because of the news that Bertha was Schlinke's bride again, and because of Bertha's harsh accusation that I