"Anna Maria had sent Brockelmann in a carriage to fetch the old woman.

Meanwhile Susanna pushed Anna Maria away with her weak hands, and called 'Isa!' incessantly in her delirium. With a white face Anna Maria pushed her chair behind the curtains and listened to the low, eager whispering of the sick girl. But once the surging blood shot from neck to brow, as Susanna spoke of Klaus, and Anna Maria turned her eyes almost reproachfully toward the door, behind which a light step had just stopped.

"That was surely Klaus again; certainly twenty times during the day he came to the door to listen; yet who could have closed the little red mouth which had just called his name again, quite aloud, and laughed, and talked of bonbons, of moonlight, and of songs?

"On the way to my room I met Brockelmann, who had just returned, and was standing in the corridor by Klaus. Her face was very red; she pointed to my room, and here began to describe, in a voice half-choked with indignation, all that she had found in the dwelling of the old comedian, excepting herself. The blacksmith's wife had told her she had lately boiled some red pomade, and put it in a number of little porcelain jars, and taken them away to sell. She would often go away so, and be gone a fortnight. 'She is an old vagabond,' added Brockelmann, 'a beggar-woman whom the constable ought to shut up in the nearest tower!' And with a contemptuous air she drew forth one of the little boxes in question, which was correctly tied up with gold paper, and bore a label which explained at length the red pomade and its value: '_Rouge de Theatre, premiere qualite!_'

"'Paint!' said I, smiling.

"'And for these sinful wares she gets a pile of money,' continued the old woman, 'and what does she do with it? She eats cakes and chocolate, and the children at the forge run about with gay silk ribbons on their rough pig-tails; and all around in the corners there were heaps of knick-knacks, enough for ten fools to trim up their caps with. It is a shame!'

"'When is she coming back?' asked Klaus.

"'The Lord only knows; she went away yesterday.' Brockelmann turned to go, irritated by her vain mission, which had taken so much time. But she stopped at the door, and a friendly expression lay on her face. 'I am charged with best greetings from the Herr Baron,' she said; 'he was not a little surprised to see me looking into his garden from the old woman's window; I explained to him shortly what brought me there.'

"'Is the house so near the castle garden?' I asked.

"Brockelmann nodded. 'Yes, indeed, the old woman sees the whole beautiful garden; and what a garden!' With that she went out.

"'It is well, on the whole,' said Klaus, after a pause, 'that the old woman is not there. But will Brockelmann be able to nurse her?'

"'No,' I replied, 'Anna Maria.'

"'Anna Maria?' he asked, and his lip quivered.

"'Klaus,' I begged, 'don't humbug your own self. You must be convinced in your inmost heart that this girl could not have a better nurse than Anna Maria.'

"'I have been perplexed about her,' he answered gloomily.

"'And she about you!' I replied.

"He grew red. 'For what reason?' he asked. 'Because I took this girl under the protection of my house? Because I interfered with an over-taxation of her strength? Because----' he broke on.

"'Anna Maria fears that--well, that _la pet.i.te_ will be too much spoiled,' I replied.

"Klaus shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, and now?' he asked. 'Listen, aunt, I thought nothing in the world could alter me; I thought I had become a calm, quiet man; but every nerve has twitched since I have been compelled to see how this girl is treated. Once, as a little boy, I looked on, powerless with rage, to see two great boys tormenting a may-bug; they had climbed a tree because I had scratched and bitten them; my small limbs would not carry me up there, but the dumb fury, the rising tumult in my childish heart, I have never forgotten to this day; and I felt exactly the same way when I heard those little feet tripping here and there about the house--on, on, now on the kitchen-stairs, now in the corridor. Do you not suppose I could see how they kept growing more and more weary, and what a mighty effort they made when Anna Maria's merciless voice called, "Here, Susanna!" or "_Venez donc_, Susanna!" "Quickly, we will go into the milk-cellar!" "Susanna, where is the key of the linen-press?" I was a coward to endure it, not to have interfered till it was too late. Great heavens! it shall be different,'

he cried, and his clenched fist fell threateningly on the table. The great, strong man was beside himself with anxiety and rage.

"I did not venture to answer, and after a few minutes he left the room.

I heard him lingering again at Susanna's door, and then go away softly.

The misfortune was here! Poor Anna Maria! Poor Klaus!

"Toward noon Anna Maria came to me, even paler than before. 'She talks incessantly of Klaus,' she said slowly. 'I knew that it must come, but Klaus did not understand me. She loves him, aunt, believe me.'

"My thoughts were so full of Klaus that I said, quite consistently: 'And he loves her!'

"Anna Maria did not understand me aright. 'What did you say, aunt?' she asked, the weariness all gone from her eyes.

"'I said Klaus is tenderly inclined toward Susanna Mattoni,' I repeated boldly.

"The girl broke into a smile--nay, she even laughed--and I saw her firm white teeth shine for the first time for many a day; then she grew grave. 'How can you joke now, aunt?'

"'_Mais, mon ange_, I am not joking,' I replied warmly. Anna Maria puzzled me; she must have noticed it for a long time; then why was she so opposed to the child?

"'You are not joking, aunt?' she asked icily. 'Then you little understand how to judge Klaus. Klaus, with his cool reason, his calm nature, he who might have had a wife any day if he had wished, should care for this child--it is ridiculous, perfectly ridiculous!'

"'But, Anna Maria, are you so blind?' I cried.

"'I am not blind,' she replied, with one of her glances which showed plainly her contempt of my opinion. 'Not till I see the two come, united, out of the church will I believe that Klaus loves her, and that, Aunt Rosamond, neither you nor I will live to see.'

"'Stop, Anna Maria!' I begged. 'It is, of course, possible that I am mistaken, but--G.o.d grant that you are right,' I added.

"Anna Maria was silent for a moment. 'No,' she said then, as if to herself, lifting up her arms--'no, Klaus is not capable of such an error. I believe in Klaus. His kind heart, his compa.s.sion for the orphan, impel him to be hard toward me; our opinions as to Susanna's welfare are so contrary. But I know, aunt, that Klaus loves me so much, that I stand before any other in his heart, so I will gladly bear the harshness; perhaps he has borne something harder for my sake. When Susanna is gone we shall find the old good-will back again.'

"'I do not believe that Susanna will go away, will be allowed to go away,' I threw in, uncertainly, touched by her confidence.

"Her eyes shone. 'Leave that to me, Aunt Rosa,' she replied; 'she _shall_ go, take my word for it.'

"'And if you vex Klaus afresh by such a demand?'

"'Klaus desires Susanna's best good, and he will find some other place for her as soon as he learns that he is not an object of indifference to her. Klaus is a man of honor, and a glance will suffice.'

"'What, Anna Maria?' I groaned; 'you would inform him that--that----'

"'Yes,' she replied.

"'I beg you, Anna Maria, do not do it; do not pour oil on the fire, my child; be silent----'

"'Never, aunt; I have been silent too long already!' she said decidedly.

'I saw it coming on, it had to come, and I had not the courage to warn Klaus, and say: "Protect this child from the saddest thing that can come to a maiden's heart; do not let it awaken into a first love, which must then be renounced."'

"'Anna Maria, for Heaven's sake,' I implored, 'how do you know so certainly that Susanna no longer regards Klaus with indifference? You cannot take her feverish talk for anything positive. She talks about Sturmer as well as Klaus. I beg you, keep silent. It is only a conjecture of yours; Susanna may be in a state of uncertainty still, herself.'

"'A precocious, pa.s.sionate nature, like that girl's?' she asked, and went to the door, about to leave; 'there is nothing uncertain there. I owe it to her.'

"'Anna Maria, let her get well first; it is over-hasty, and may make a dreadful jumble!'

"She did not answer, but gave me a nod that agreed with her earnest look, and then left me alone with my thoughts.

"How sorry I was for her, this young maiden with the heart of an old woman! How this firm confidence in Klaus touched me! I had expected a little jealousy from her, had supposed that Susanna's appearance seemed dangerous enough to her to rob her of her brother's heart; but nothing of all this--that she wished to preserve the girl's peace of mind. She believed in Klaus with a firm, unshaken trust. 'I know that I stand before all others in his heart, only our opinions about Susanna differ widely.' Klaus was a man of honor, Klaus could not marry Susanna; it lay beyond the reach of possibility! A love without this final end was not conceivable to her pure mind; of a pa.s.sion which could outreach all bounds she seemed to have no foreboding. It did not occur to her to consider her brother's altered manner, his hasty vehemence of the day before, as anything but the expression of his lively anxiety about an orphaned child, as excessive chivalry, as a justified irritation at her energetic opposition; but if she had only first spoken----

"Ah, me! My old head showed me no outlet. What should I do, with whom speak? Neither of them could judge of the matter as it lay now; the only remaining way was to appeal to Susanna's maidenly pride. But dared I?

Had I the right to contrive an intrigue behind Klaus's back? For, although I meant well, still it was an intrigue. And suppose that I did tread this by-way, what certainty was there that it would lead to the goal? And how, after all, should I tread it?

"Susanna's illness was violent but brief. The delirium had ceased by the next day, but she lay very feeble for a week after, without speaking or showing interest in anything. But her great eyes continually followed Anna Maria, as she moved noiselessly about the sick-room. Anna Maria's manner toward Susanna was altered; there was a certain gentleness and tenderness about her that became her wonderfully well. Whether it was sympathy with the invalid, or whether she wanted to show the girl whom she had wished to send away from the shelter of her home that she cherished no ill-will toward her, I do not know; at any rate, she took care of her like a loving mother.

"After about a week Susanna raised her head, begged to have the windows opened, and showed an appet.i.te; and when the doctor came he found her sitting up in bed, eating with excellent appet.i.te the prescribed convalescent's dish, a broth of young pigeons.

"'Bravo!' cried the gay little man, 'keep on so! A small gla.s.s of Bordeaux, too, would do no harm.'