"'And to-morrow I shall get up!' cried Susanna.

"'Not to-morrow; and day after to-morrow I shall inspect you again before you do it,' answered the doctor.

"Susanna laughed, and then, with the pleasant feeling of returning health, lay back on the pillows, took a hundred-leaved rose from the bunch of flowers which Klaus sent daily through Anna Maria, to be placed by the sick-bed, and asked--what! did I hear aright? Horrified, I turned my head away and looked for Anna Maria; fortunately, she had gone out with the doctor--and asked: 'Has Klaus--Herr von Hegewitz--ever inquired for me?' And as she spoke her dark eyes flashed beneath the long lashes.

"'Oh, yes, Susanna, but he is very much occupied with the harvesting now,' I said deceitfully, 'and he knows you are having the best of care.'

"She nodded. 'And has not Herr von Sturmer been here? Did he not know that I was ill?'

"'Sturmer? Yes, I think he has been here frequently,' I replied.

"'And hasn't he asked at all how I was?' she questioned me further.

"'You are a.s.suming, _ma mignonne_!' said I, irritated. 'He has inquired for you, perhaps--yes, I remember--nothing more.'

"'How ungallant!' whispered Susanna, sulkily. At that moment the door opened and Brockelmann entered with a little basket of choice apricots, with a fresh rosebud placed here and there among them.

"'An expression of regard from Baron von Sturmer, who sent his wishes for the Fraulein's improvement, hoping that she might like to eat the fruit.' With these words the basket was set down rather roughly on the table beside the bed. The old woman's glance met mine, and in her eyes was plainly to be read: 'Well, let anybody who can understand such a state of affairs; I can't!' But Susanna, with a cry of joy, had seized the basket, and buried her nose in the flowers, inhaling their spicy odor. Then she rested it on her knees, put her delicate arms around it, leaned her head on the dainty handle, and with a happy smile closed her eyes, and thus Anna Maria found her. She frowned at this ecstasy. 'It is very kind of Sturmer,' she said, quietly; 'he always shows such delicate attentions when he knows any one to be ill and suffering.' Then she rang for a plate and silver fruit-knife. 'Give them to me, Susanna; I will prepare some of the beautiful fruit for you.'"

CHAPTER X.

"Late in the afternoon one dull rainy day we were sitting in the garden-parlor, Anna Maria with her sewing, Klaus reading the newspaper and smoking, when Sturmer came in to talk over some matters with Klaus.

Then conversation about horses ended in a political discussion, in which Anna Maria took part with a certain degree of liveliness, and Klaus joined warmly, drawing strong whiffs from his pipe. Sturmer, who had never taken a pipe in his mouth, now and then drove back the clouds with his silk handkerchief in sport, and I amused myself with listening to the ready answers which came from Anna Maria's young lips.

"The demeanor of brother and sister toward each other was singular. Anna Maria waited upon her brother with almost humble tenderness, while he seemed distrustful, and then again secretly touched by the self-sacrificing spirit of the nurse who devoted herself to Susanna. He especially avoided looking at her, or speaking to her directly.

"'How is Fraulein Mattoni getting on?' broke in Sturmer in the midst of a well-turned sentence of Klaus's about the recent attempts to make beet-root sugar.

"'Well!' replied Anna Maria; 'she is reading an old family history which I hunted up the other day, and enjoying your delicious apricots. Thank you for them, Sturmer; they give Susanna great pleasure.'

"Then the conversation turned upon the lately deceased Duke of Weimar, Charles Augustus, and from him to his celebrated friend, Goethe, of whom Sturmer affirmed that he was intending to marry again after the death of his wife. Anna Maria rejected the idea incredulously; she could not believe that he, at his great age, would be so foolish. She was a sworn enemy to Goethe. Her plain, straightforward mind had been disagreeably affected by Werther; such an overflow of feeling could but seem strange to her. Goethe's numerous love-affairs set him out in a light which brought the ideal conception of him down to the atmosphere of common mortals. That genius draws different boundaries, that a fiery spirit like his was not to be measured by the common standard, did not occur to her, and so she now indignantly shook her head.

"'A fable!' I, too, cried, smiling.

"'Not at all,' rejoined Sturmer; 'I have it from Von N----, who is correctly informed, depend upon it!'

"'My!' said Klaus, 'he must have become an old icicle by this time, scarcely able to go among people any more.'

"'A man who has created a Gretchen ossify?' threw in Sturmer. 'Never!'

"'And a Werther?' said I, in joke.

"'Werther is insupportable!' declared Anna Maria, 'bombastic, overdrawn!

A man who behaves like Werther is in my eyes no man at all, but a weakling!'

"Sturmer's dark eyes looked quietly over at her. 'Your opinion, Fraulein von Hegewitz, is surely a rare one among women. A woman usually discovers from her standpoint, and naturally, that with a lost love the value of life is gone, and why should not this be the case with a man as well? Of course, in a man's occupation, in the demands which his life makes of him, there are a thousand aids offered to enable him more quickly to recover from such a pain. But to regard it purely objectively, that demands such a cool manner of contemplation that I am fain to believe that those who thus judge do not know what loving really means.'

"At these last words Anna Maria had grown as white as the linen on which she was sewing. She dropped her head, as if conscious of guilt, and her trembling hand could scarcely guide the needle. A painful pause ensued; Klaus cast a compa.s.sionate glance at Sturmer; it was the first time that he had given expression to the pain of his bitter disappointment in her hearing and ours.

"'Heavens, what a storm!' I cried, as a perfect flood of water was hurled against the windows; even the despised subject of water satisfied me to break the awkward silence.

"'Indeed,' said Sturmer, rising, 'it is bad; I must make haste to get under shelter while it is yet daylight.' He took leave with a haste that left me to imagine he wished to be alone with his bitter feelings.

"'Adieu, dear Edwin,' said I, tenderly, pressing his hand. Neither brother nor sister gave him the customary invitation to spend the evening here. Anna Maria had risen and laid her hand on Klaus's shoulder, who was now standing beside her. She was still very pale, and said her 'Good-night, Sturmer!' with a wearily maintained steadiness.

"As soon as the gentlemen had left the room, she went to the door and opened it impetuously; breathing hard, she stood in the door-way, and the storm blew back her skirts, and the rain-drops beat in her face and lay like pearls on her fair locks. Once or twice it seemed to me as if her bosom heaved with suppressed sobs, so that, in alarm, I turned my head to look around the curtain, but to no purpose, for as Klaus reentered the room she turned back too, and an almost transfigured expression lay on her face.

"She went up to him and took his arm.

"'Dear brother,' I heard her say, and again there was a quiver in her voice; she leaned her head against his breast. 'Dear Klaus!' she repeated.

"'Anna Maria?' he asked, taking hold of her hand.

"'Klaus, let what has lately pa.s.sed between us be forgotten! Forgive me for having so violently opposed you; it was very wrong of me----'

"'No, no, my old la.s.s; I was more violent than was necessary,' he replied hastily, drawing her to him; 'we were both in fault.'

"'Yes, Klaus; you see I was not honest; I ought to have spoken at once, but I was not sure enough of it. I did not wish to make you uneasy.'

"'By what?' said Klaus hastily.

"Anna Maria hesitated, but held her brother's arm more firmly. I cleared my throat as a warning from my corner by the window, but Anna Maria paid no attention to it; she acted from quick, firm resolution in all that she did, and when occasion came she bravely met the difficulty, which she thought easy enough to overcome.

"'By telling you of a fact which makes Susanna's remaining in this house questionable,' she said, quietly, but decidedly.

"'The old song again, Anna Maria?' he said. 'Your vehemence did not suffice; do you think to catch me this way?'

"'No, Klaus, in Heaven's name, no!' she replied. 'Something different drives me to you now; I did not mean to speak of Susanna to you again; I wished in this hour only one word from you as of old, a single kind word; that it happened thus was the course of the conversation. Forgive me!'

"'You have judged Susanna very severely, Anna Maria,' Klaus began, after a pause, 'and now you have nursed her devotedly and made up for it a hundred times; and yet the same sentiments?--now, when she is ill, and may perhaps remain sickly?'

"'I have expected too much of Susanna's const.i.tution, Klaus, and day and night I have prayed that G.o.d might restore her to health. I have desired only her good, believe me. But my opinion of Susanna's character I cannot alter.'

"They were not standing close together now, but opposite one another.

'But beneath all the show and glitter which I despise there beats a quick, warm human heart, Klaus. Susanna is no longer the child you think to see in her. Susanna has--Susanna is--Susanna _loves_ you, Klaus!'

"The twilight had gradually deepened. I could no longer see Klaus's face distinctly, but only heard a quick, violent breathing. He did not answer, he stood motionless. 'Foolish child!' thought I, looking at Anna Maria.

"'You do not believe me, Klaus?' she asked, as he remained silent. 'But it is so; I am not mistaken! Susanna talked of you incessantly in her delirium; I know it from a hundred little indications. Such an affection increases daily and hourly--is the girl to become unhappy? Perhaps she does not know it yet herself, but the awakening must surely come.'

"Again no answer. Klaus sat down in the nearest chair, and looked before him, motionless. The servants' supper-bell was now ringing outside, a fresh shower of rain came pelting against the sandstone pavement of the terrace, and there was a spectral light in the great, dim room. I imagined phantoms were rising out of every nook and corner, and the great flowered portiere moved slightly, as if some one were standing behind it, listening.

"'You are right,' said Klaus, at length, in a lifeless tone; 'what is to become of her? The wife of a Hegewitz--that is impossible; so you think, do you not, Anna Maria?'