"'Ah, no, Aunt Rosamond!' she replied. 'There has not been the prospect of such a harvest for years; it is a pleasure to go through the fields.'

"And Susanna, the breath of whose life was laughing? She wandered about like a dreamer. How often, when she sat opposite me in the sewing-room, her hands dropped in her lap, and she went to sleep, like an overweary child. And I let her sleep, for on the pale little face the marks of the unwonted manner of life were only too perceptible. Once Klaus came into the room, as she sat there, fallen asleep, like little Princess Domroschen, only, instead of the spindle, the netting-needle in her hand. He came nearer on tip-toe, and looked at her, his arms at his sides. Then he asked softly:

"'Do you not think she looks wretchedly, aunt?'

"'The altered mode of life, Klaus,' I answered, 'the strange food, the----'

"'Say the over-exertion, aunt,' he broke in; 'that would be nearer the truth. Poor little one!'

"'Why do you not say so to Anna Maria, Klaus? I, too, think that too much is required in this early rising and continually being on the feet.'

"He grew very red, bit his lips, and shrugged his shoulders in place of an answer, and left me before I had time to speak further.

"Susanna, moreover, never uttered a word of complaint; but it would happen that Anna Maria had to seek her, seek for hours without finding her, and that Klaus very quietly remarked, 'She must have run away!' But she would appear again suddenly, with bright eyes and red cheeks, to be sure; she had gone astray in the wood, she said, or gone to sleep in the garden. Sometimes she would shut herself into her dull room, and open the door to no knocks. Once, as she pulled her handkerchief quickly out of her pocket, a paper of bonbons fell to the floor. Anna Maria, who despised all sweetmeats, confiscated it at once; I can still see the look of punishment she gave the blushing girl. We were all sitting on the terrace, just after supper; Klaus had been reading aloud from the newspaper, and this was usually a moment when Susanna waked from her dreaming; her shining eyes were fixed on Klaus, and a rosy gleam spread over the pale face. Klaus held the good old 'Tante Voss,' and read aloud every little story which alluded to Berlin; that habit was now quietly introduced, whereas he had formerly read only certain political news, that he might talk about it with Anna Maria.

"The falling bonbon package broke right into a report from the opera-house, where Sontag had sung with wild applause. Klaus let the paper drop, observed Anna Maria's look and the gesture with which she laid the unlucky package beside her, and saw Susanna's confusion.

"'Show me the package, Anna Maria,' he asked; and unwrapping one of the bonbons in colored paper, he said, 'Ah! these are miserable things indeed; they must taste splendidly!' He smiled as he said this, and the smile put Susanna beside herself.

"'I--I do not eat them at all!' she cried, 'I only have them for the little children who come to the fence there below; they are pleased with them, I know, for nothing was more beautiful to me when I was a child than a bonbon!'

"She said this so touchingly and childishly, in spite of her excitement, that Klaus begged for her hand as if in atonement.

"'Susanna, you might poison the village children with this bad stuff. I will get some other bonbons for you that will taste good to you yourself.'

"Anna Maria rose, apparently indifferent, put the dish of fragrant strawberries which she had been hulling for preserving on the great stone table, and went slowly down the steps into the garden. When she came up again, an hour had pa.s.sed, and the moon appeared over the gabled roof and shone brightly into her proud face.

"'Where is Susanna?' she asked. The child had just gone down to the garden, and Klaus was smoking a pipe in peace of mind. She seated herself quietly in her place and looked out over the moonlit tree-tops into the warm summer night. Then she said suddenly:

"'May I say something to you, Klaus?'

"'Certainly, Anna Maria,' he replied.

"'Then do not give Susanna any bonbons; that is, do not contradict me so directly when I have occasion to reprove her.'

"Klaus sat bolt upright in his wooden chair. 'Anna Maria,' he began, 'I don't think you can complain of my having found fault with or revoked any regulation of yours with regard to Fraulein Mattoni; although'--he stopped, and knocked the ashes from his pipe against the flagstones.

"'Did I do anything with Susanna which displeased you?' she asked.

"But she got no answer, for just then the subject of discussion flew up the steps, and sat down again, modestly, in her place. Anna Maria rose, took a shawl from her shoulders, and wrapped it about the girl who was breathing very fast. 'You are heated, Susanna, you might take cold.'

Klaus now smoked the faster, and on saying good-night held out both hands to Anna Maria; but she placed hers in them only lightly.

"Ah, yes, the first omens, slight and scarcely noticeable! Perhaps they would have escaped my eyes if I had not had, from the very first, a foreboding of coming evil. I do not know if Susanna received the promised bonbons. Probably not; and after that episode everything went on in the usual course, until there came a day full of unforeseen events, full of developments, which placed us all at once in the most dreadful entanglements.

"It was an oppressively hot day, just in the middle of the harvesting.

In the court-yard and in the house a veritable deathly stillness reigned, and not even a leaf on the trees stirred under the scorching midday sun. I sat in one of the deep window-niches of the great hall which lies on the garden side of the house and opens out on the terrace.

Here it was endurable, for the heat could not easily penetrate the thick walls, and the tall elms which shaded the terrace, and the wild-grape which covered it with its luxurious festoons, made a cool, green, dim light. Even now the garden-parlor is my favorite retreat during the warm weather. At that time, however, there was no carved-oak furniture here, nor was there a gay mosaic pavement on the terrace; the white varnished chairs and the couches covered with red-flowered chintz answered the same purpose, as did the worn old sandstone flags with which the terrace was paved, in whose crevices gra.s.s and all sorts of weeds sprung up picturesquely; and the heavy gray sandstone railing had quite as feudal a look as the artistic wrought-iron bal.u.s.trade there now, and, to tell the truth, pleased me better. Some of us have such an affection to the old things; but that is pardonable, I think.

"So I was sitting in the garden-parlor, and growing a little dreamy, as I still like to do, and listening abstractedly to Anna Maria's voice as she went over her accounts, half aloud, in the sitting-room close by.

Klaus was in the fields again, for the first wheat was to be brought in to-day, and I was waiting for Susanna to come for a sewing lesson, but in vain. She must be asleep, I thought, half content to think so, for the heat fairly paralyzed my will-power. And so a long time pa.s.sed, till a heavy step sounded on the stone flags outside, and immediately after Klaus, dusty and red with heat, came in and threw himself wearily into the nearest chair.

"'Where is Susanna?' he asked, wiping his hot forehead with his handkerchief.

"'She is sleeping, probably,' I replied.

"'Are you sure of that, Aunt Rosamond?'

"'No, Klaus, but I think it may be a.s.sumed with tolerable certainty. I know her.'

"'It is strange,' he remarked; 'I could have sworn I saw her vanish in the Darnbitz pines a little while ago.'

"'For Heaven's sake!' I cried incredulously. 'Impossible! in this heat!

It is half an hour's walk from here!'

"'So I said to myself; but the gait, all the motions, the small, black-robed figure--indeed, I rode across the field at once, but of course nothing was to be heard or seen then.'

"'I will wager she is sleeping quietly up-stairs in her canopied bed, or staring at the "Mischief-maker,"' said I jestingly.

"'And now, aunt,' began Klaus again, 'I have a piece of news which will please you as it has me; but I do not know if Anna Maria--But then, it is nearly three years since that painful affair!'

"As he spoke he took a letter from the pocket of his linen coat, and looking at it said: 'Sturmer is back again, indeed has been for two weeks; I do not understand----'

"At that instant something fell clattering to the floor, and in the door-way stood Anna Maria, white as a corpse. In questioning alarm her eyes were fixed on Klaus's lips. I had never seen the strong-willed girl thus. Klaus sprang up and went toward her; I heard her say only the one word 'Sturmer.'

"'He is here, Anna Maria,' replied her brother; 'does that startle you so?'

"She shook her head, but her looks belied her.

"'I have just received this note,' continued Klaus, and he read as follows:

"'MY DEAR OLD FRIEND:

"'I landed here again two weeks ago, for the longing for home finally overcame me; and when one has wandered about for three years, it is time, for various reasons, to return to the ancestral home. I come from--but I will tell you all that when I see you. I have already been twice before your door, to say good-day, but--I am meanwhile of the opinion that the past should not interfere with our old friendly relations. I certainly came off conqueror! It will not be hard for Anna Maria to receive an old friend, which I have never ceased to be, and which I shall always endeavor to remain. May I come, then? To-morrow morning, after church, I had intended to make a call, if you permit it. My compliments to the ladies.

"'Ever yours,

"'EDWIN STuRMER.'

"A deep pink flush had mounted to Anna Maria's cheeks as he read, and at the words 'I certainly came off conqueror! It will not be hard for Anna Maria to receive an old friend,' there was a quiver of pain on her delicate lips. When Klaus finished, she had quite recovered her self-possession. 'I shall be glad to see Edwin Sturmer again,' she said clearly; 'ask him to eat a plate of soup with us.'

"'That is lovely of you, Anna Maria!' cried Klaus, rejoiced. 'The poor fellow has gotten over it, it is to be hoped; meeting again for the first time is naturally somewhat painful, but you have done nothing so bad. How could you help it that he loves you, and you not him? Splendid old fellow, he----'

"Anna Maria's eyes wandered with a strange expression over the green trees outside; she kept her lips tightly closed, as if making an effort to repress a cry, and was still standing thus when Klaus sat down at the writing table near by, to answer Sturmer's note.

"'Where is Susanna?' she asked at last.

"'She must be asleep,' I replied.

"She turned and left the room.