"The next morning broke as prosaic and calm as I could desire. The sun
shone with obtrusive clearness into the most remote corner, and
mercilessly set out everything in a dazzling light. From below,
out-of-doors, I heard the sound of Anna Maria's voice, and caught
something about 'string-beans for the servants' kitchen.' Klaus whistled
out of the window, and immediately after I heard a dialogue concerning
Waldemann (the _Teckel_), who was just limping across the court, having
jammed his foot in the stable-door, according to the coachman's account.
Klaus's voice, thank God, had not a suspicion of that weak intonation of
last evening. Relieved, and smiling at my fears of yesterday, I got
ready for church. If we can only get well over the first meeting with
Stuermer, it may be quite a pleasant Sunday, I reasoned; I was wishing
some visitor would come, that we might not be so much by ourselves.
"When our church-bell began to ring we three of the family were standing
down-stairs in the sitting-room waiting for Susanna. Anna Maria looked
weary and unnerved, and an old sort of expression lay about her mouth;
she moved quickly and was plainly out of humor at Susanna's want of
punctuality. The festal earnestness that usually pervaded her whole
being in going to church was lacking to-day. 'Rieke!' she called to the
housemaid, 'go to Fraeulein Mattoni and ask if she will be ready soon;
we are waiting for her.' The girl came back with the answer that the
young lady had not quite finished her toilet, and begged the others to
go on.
"'I will wait for her,' said Klaus quickly, right out of his kind,
chivalrous heart, but it brought to my mind the voice of last evening.
"'You will let your old aunt limp to church alone, for the first time?'
I asked jokingly.
"'Ah, _pardon_!' he replied at once. 'Old my aunt certainly is not yet;
on that ground I might leave you; but I--may I beg the honor?' he asked,
offering me his arm.
"Anna Maria walked ahead; there was something majestic in her walk, and
as she stepped from the garden through the gate of the church-yard, and,
walking between the rows of graves, recognized the peasants with an
inclination of her fair head, kindly stroking the flaxen heads of the
children, and here and there saying a friendly word to an old man or
woman, all eyes followed her with reverence and admiration, while Klaus
received more trusting looks, and even cheers. When in our pew in the
church, she bent her head low and prayed long, and then cast a shy look
toward the opposite gallery, the place of the Dambitz gentry; Dambitz
had always been in the parish of Buetze, and many a happy time have the
Stuermers sat on that side and the Hegewitzes on this, and listened to
the simple discourse of the clergyman and bowed the head in devout
humility. Those were the good old times, when the nobility led the way
before the people, with the motto: 'Fear God and honor the king!'
"All at once a thrill went through Anna Maria's body, but her face
looked coldly over to the Stuermer gallery; she bent her head slightly
and returned a greeting. There he was standing bodily, my old favorite,
and I almost nodded my head off at him and made secret signs with my
handkerchief. His dark eyes sent a happy greeting across to me--Edwin
Stuermer was really there.
"The clear voice with which Anna Maria joined in the singing drew my
looks to her again. She sang quietly with the congregation, but a
crimson flush of deep agitation lay on her face; it was evidently
excessively painful to her to see him again.
"What the sermon was about on that day I cannot tell, for before the
clergyman ascended the pulpit something occurred which nearly put an end
to the devotions of all the small congregation and obliged me to leave
the church.
"I had fixed my eyes steadily on Stuermer, as if I could not look my fill
at the man's handsome curly head; and the good God surely forgave me,
for I was as fond of Edwin as if he were my own child. All at once,
during the singing, I saw him start and look intently across to me; and,
following the direction of his gaze, I observed--Susanna. She had on a
white muslin dress, her neck and arms lightly covered by the misty
material; she held her hat in her hand, her black hair clustered in rich
curls about her small head; a white rose was placed carelessly in her
hair, and a bunch of the same flowers rose and fell on her bosom, and as
white as they was her sweet face as she raised it again after a short
prayer.
"Most beautiful was this young creature, but, may God forgive me! I was
bitterly angry with her for being so and for coming to church dressed up
as if for a ball. 'Incorrigible comedian blood,' I scolded to myself. I
thanked God that Klaus could not see her from his seat, and gave Stuermer
an unfriendly look because he kept looking over at our pew. All at once,
as the clergyman was singing the liturgy, Susanna put her hand to her
forehead, as if to grasp something there, and then sank back silently,
with closed eyes, into her seat.
"I cannot tell now the exact order in which all this happened; I only
remember that a chair was overturned with a loud noise, that the
clergyman was silent for an instant, and that there was a movement among
the congregation; at the same time Klaus left our pew, carrying out the
white figure in his arms, like a feather. I rose at once to follow him.
Anna Maria's head was bent low over her hymn-book; was she going to take
no notice of the affair? But now she slowly rose, and went behind me
down the narrow, creaking flight of steps which led up outside the
church to our pew; it was provided with a wooden roof as a protection
against wind and storms, and the ivy which grew over the whole church
adorned it like a bridal arch with green festoons.
"Klaus was just disappearing into one of the nearest cottages, whose
shining window-panes looked out like clear eyes beneath the gray
shingle-roof, not at all sad at the constant view of the little
church-yard. Marieken Maertens and her husband lived here; she had been
in Anna Maria's service, a quick, industrious girl, but once was sent
away in the utmost haste because she--but that has nothing to do with
the case. Anna Maria had her brought back again at that time, and she
was married from the manor-house, and since then Anna Maria and I had
each held a curly brown head over the font. When there was anything
going on at our house--that is, when there was extra work--Marieken came
and helped.
"She was at the threshold coming to meet us already, wiping her hands on
her clean apron, and pushing back her eldest child. 'She is lying on the
sofa inside,' she whispered. 'Oh, the master looks pale as death from
fright!' Anna Maria stepped by me into the little room; she made a sign
for me to stay outside, so I sat down on the wooden stool that Marieken
placed in the entry for me, and listened intently for every sound from
within.
"For a little while all was still. Marieken ran in with fresh water, and
then I heard Anna Maria say: 'How are you now, Susanna?'
"'Go back to church quite easy,' came the reply; 'it was a momentary
weakness. I am very sorry to have given you such anxiety and trouble.'
And the next moment the girl was standing on the threshold, a crimson
blush overspreading her whole face, and without noticing me at all, she
flew to the outside door and across the church-yard; her fluttering
white dress appeared again for an instant in the frame of the gateway
leading to our garden; then she had vanished like an apparition.
"Shaking my head, I rose to go into the little room and hear what was to
be done now. But I sat down again, almost stunned at the sound of
Klaus's voice, which came out to me so crushingly cold and clear:
"'I should like to ask you, Anna Maria, to occupy the girl hereafter in
some way better suited to her; this swoon was the natural effect of
constant over-exertion.'
"I could not picture Anna Maria to myself at this moment, for Klaus had
never used such a tone to her before. My old heart began to beat
violently from anxiety. 'It is here! It is here!' I said to myself.
'Yes, it had to come!'
"'I think this swoon is rather a consequence of Susanna's running about
too much in the fearful heat yesterday,' she replied coldly. 'However,
as you wish; I will leave it entirely to you to decide what occupation
is most fitting for Susanna Mattoni.'
"'Great heavens! Anna Maria, do you not understand?' Klaus rejoined,
almost imploringly. 'Look at the girl: she is delicate and accustomed to
the easy life of a large city, never to a regular life. I beg you not to
take it amiss, it is my opinion and----'
"'I am sorry that I have made such a mistake,' Anna Maria interrupted,
icily. 'I have tried to do my best for this unfortunate child, who has
grown up in most wretched circumstances. I wanted to make a capable,
housewifely maiden of her, but I see myself that such miserable comedian
blood is not to be improved, and I ask you now only for one thing----'
"She broke off. What would come now? I looked about me in horror to see
if any one were listening. But Marieken was clattering about with her
pots and pans in the kitchen, and the children were playing before the
outside door.
"'That you will not require me to endure this frivolous creature, this
frippery and finery, this trifling, flighty being. I have an unspeakable
aversion to her,' she concluded.
"'So that is your confession of faith, Anna Maria?' asked Klaus, and his
voice sounded angry. 'I tell you Susanna Mattoni remains here in the
family. I will have it, for a sacred promise binds me, and I hope that
you will never let her feel what you think of her. Her light-mindedness,
her unsteadiness, and all the faults which you have just cited, cannot
be laid to her charge, for from her youth up she has never learned to
recognize them as faults. Of frivolity, moreover, I have no evidences,
for a couple of bonbons do not seem to me sufficient proof.'
"'I cannot act contrary to my convictions,' returned Anna Maria, 'and if
I am no longer to educate Susanna as I think well for her, you had
better find another place for her.'
"I had sprung up and laid hold of the door-handle; for Heaven's sake!
there would be a quarrel. But the storm had already drawn near.
"'Susanna is to remain, I tell you!' thundered Klaus. 'Do you quite
forget who is master of the house? It appears to me I have let you go on
for years in an immeasurable error, in letting you govern uncontrolled,
and assenting to all your arrangements. It is time for you to remember
whose place it is to decide matters at Buetze.'
"Merciful Heaven! My knees trembled; how was this to end? And now there
was no sound there within; only the low singing of the young wife was
heard from the kitchen, where she was rocking her youngest child to
sleep; and I stole softly away from the door and sat down on the wooden
bench before the house. Over the quiet, green graves in the church-yard
lay a Sunday calm, only a light breath of wind rustled in the tall
trees. Over in the little church the sermon was just finished, the
sermon for the fifth Sunday after Trinity. The sound of the organ and
singing of the congregation floated across to me, and my lips repeated
the words:
"'Ah! stay with thy clearness.
Precious light, with us stay;
Let thy truth shine upon us,
That we go not astray.'
"Ah, yes, clearness, clearness and truth and peace; help us in all time
of need! I knew Klaus, I knew Anna Maria. An almost exaggerated sense of
duty, an iron will when she thought she was doing the right thing,
inflexibility--that was the Hegewitz character; good, solid qualities
when they got on peaceably together, but thus? And there was Stuermer
coming out of the church door; he had not waited till the hymn was
finished, and was now hastening up to me.
"'Fraeulein Rosamond, you still here?' he asked. 'Who----'
"But I did not give him time to finish. 'Come, Edwin, give me your arm,
I have been waiting for some one to escort me back.' And actually
dragging away the astonished man, I succeeded in getting him into the
park without betraying the presence of Klaus and Anna Maria in the
little room.
"'And now, a thousand times welcome, dear Edwin,' said I, breathing
freely again, as we walked under the shady trees. 'How have you been?
How delightful it is to have you here again, and how well and strong you
are looking!'
"He bent to kiss my hand. 'Yes, thank God that I am among old friends
again!' he replied heartily. 'How have things gone here? But why do I
ask? Well, of course; at least, I saw you all unaltered in church. But I
would like to ask, at the risk of appearing curious, who was the young
lady who--oh!' He stopped, and pointed toward the thick, dark shrubbery
at one side, holding my arm so firmly in his that I was obliged to stand
still.
"There sat Susanna in the deepest shade of the thicket. She was leaning
her elbows on the table, and her oval face rested on her clasped hands;
motionless, like a lovely statue, she was looking down before her.
"A golden sunbeam flitted back and forth over the white figure; an
expression full of pain and woe lay on the lovely face, which I had
never before seen so sad and tearful.
"'The poor child!' I sighed involuntarily. And as Stuermer almost forced
me into a side-path, I briefly satisfied his curiosity. 'She is the
daughter of Professor Mattoni; you remember Klaus's old tutor?'
"My head was in a whirl, for I knew not what more might happen to-day.
"'And is she to live here always?' inquired Edwin Stuermer.
"'Yes--no!' I returned hesitatingly; I did not know what to answer. I
sought to reach the terrace and garden-parlor as quickly as possible,
and to my inexpressible relief saw Klaus, as if transported there by
magic, coming to the door to meet his guest; an uninitiated person would
scarcely have seen the slight cloud on his brow.
"I did not linger with them, but went to seek Anna Maria, and found her
in the sitting-room, pale but calm. I was glad to avoid the greeting
between her and Stuermer, and caught only his look as he bent low over
her hands.
"Anna Maria was a perfect enigma to me; I understood the outbreak of
passion of last evening as little as this decided opposition to-day. Yet
the latter was less inexplicable, for she too, must have seen the sparks
already glowing in Klaus's heart. But she had taken the wrong course.
Any man of chivalry, if told that he must turn a weak, helpless woman
out of the house where she has found a shelter, will refuse to do it;
particularly if she be as young, as strikingly beautiful as Susanna,
and--if he is already in love with her. To me it was an incontestable
fact: Klaus loved the girl! Perhaps he did not know yet himself how
much; but that he did love her I had seen and--feared.
"I came to the table in a thoroughly unpleasant frame of mind. 'To-day
is the beginning of the end: what will the end be?' I said to myself,
sighing. That was a strange dinner; Susanna had excused herself, Klaus
was chary of words, and Anna Maria forced herself to be talkative and
affable in a way quite contrary to her nature; a little red spot burned
on her chin, the sign of violent agitation.
"Brockelmann announced that the old actress had suddenly arrived; to be
sure, I had quite forgotten about her. Anna Maria made no answer; Klaus
looked sharply at her, and then gave orders for the old woman to be
given some dinner. Stuermer talked a long time about his travels, and
Pastor Gruene came to coffee. The gentlemen were soon involved in a
scientific conversation about the excavations at Pompeii, at which
Stuermer had been present several times, and Anna Maria walked slowly up
and down on the terrace, now and then casting a look at the gentlemen,
through the open door of the garden-parlor.
"I sat under the shady roof of the wild-grape, and knitted, and followed
her with my eyes. Anna Maria had on a light-blue linen dress, and a thin
white cape over her rosy shoulders; her heavy plaits shimmered like
gold, and her complexion was fresh as a flower. Anna Maria had made her
toilet with especial care to-day; she was the picture of a typical North
German woman, tall, fair, slender, and clear-sighted, serene, and calm.
"All at once she stopped in front of me. 'Aunt Rosamond, do you think
that Susanna Mattoni has been overworked in any way? I mean, can her
temporary weakness be the result of that?'
"'Yes, Anna Maria,' I replied, 'I am convinced of it, for she had not
been accustomed to doing anything. She has hitherto sat in a cage like a
bird; when such a creature tries to fly all at once, it is soon made
lame by the motion.'
"She made no reply, and continued her walking. The conversation grew
louder indoors; the gentlemen were now sitting over their Rhine wine.
The cool breeze of approaching evening began to blow, and the sun was
hidden behind a bank of clouds.
"'Ah! Stuermer, do stay till evening,' I heard Klaus say. 'It will never
do not to finish the day together, after beginning it so; do not pervert
our good old custom.'
"Anna Maria stood still and listened. But instead of an answer we heard
the chairs pushed back, and then Klaus's voice again:
"'Ah! Susanna, have you quite recovered? Allow me to present Baron
Stuermer.'
"Anna Maria turned and looked out toward the garden.
"Pastor Gruene inquired after the health of the young girl, and soon they
all came out on the terrace. Susanna went up to Anna Maria at once, and
held out her hand, saying: 'Forgive me for having frightened you this
morning. I do not know how it happened; everything grew dark before my
eyes, and----'
"'Oh! certainly,' interrupted Anna Maria, touching the girl's hand but
lightly; 'I was not at all frightened; a swoon is nothing so unusual.'
"Susanna blushed up to her black curls, and sat down quietly by my side.
"'Has Isa gone?' I asked her.
"She nodded. 'She went half an hour ago.'
"'Just where does she live?' I inquired.
"'In Dambitz,' was the reply.
"I let my work drop from astonishment. 'In Dambitz? How did she happen
to go to Dambitz?'
"'S---- was too far away, Fraeulein Rosamond,' stammered Susanna shyly,
'and so she has hired a little room there at the blacksmith's. But she
says she does not notice the noise of the forge at all; her windows look
out on the castle garden, and that is wonderful, she says. She may live
there, may she not?' she added, beseechingly; 'it is certainly far
enough from here.'
"'Of course she can live where she pleases, Susanna,' said I; 'we have
no right to lay down commands about that.'
"Meanwhile Brockelmann had set the table for supper on the terrace, and
we seated ourselves. Candles were now burning on the table, and their
unsteady, flickering light fell on Susanna's beautiful pale face. Her
white dress was made quite fresh again, and even the withered roses were
replaced by fresh ones; one could see that the old Isabella had been
helping the child.
"Susanna was seated between Klaus and me, Stuermer and Anna Maria
opposite. There was a strawberry _bowle_ on the table, and Susanna drank
eagerly; gradually color came into her cheeks, and her dark eyes began
to shine. And then all at once she was in her element--laughing,
jesting, and mirth. And how she could laugh! I have never heard such a
laugh as Susanna Mattoni's. It ran the whole compass of the scale, so
light and delicious that one was forced to join in it; and as she
laughed, her red mouth displayed the prettiest white teeth, and prattled
mere nonsense and follies, and as she held high her glass to touch with
Stuermer, I saw Klaus look at her with an expression that spoke even
more plainly than his trembling voice yesterday.
"Anna Maria sat silent opposite her, and not the faintest smile passed
over her lips; this graceful trifling was decidedly unpleasant to her.
But Susanna had the majority on her side, for even honest old Pastor
Gruene did not conceal the fact that he was fascinated by her.
"I tried to think how I might silence the little red lips, but in vain.
At last a thought struck me. 'Susanna 'I cried in the midst of her sweet
laugh, 'Susanna, what do you say to a song? I heard you singing so
prettily last evening.'
"'Ah! no, no, Mademoiselle,' she objected; 'I cannot sing before
people.'
"But the gentlemen echoed my request with one voice, and Stuermer
proposed to extinguish the candles, saying that one could surely sing
better by moonlight.
"'Yes, yes!' she said joyfully, 'then I will sing!' And soon the reddish
light had disappeared, and the pale moon's silvery rays fell on the
bright figure of the girl, who had sprung up and was now standing by the
railing.
"'What shall I sing?' she asked, 'Italian or German?'
"'German! German!' cried the gentlemen.
"'Oh! please Susanna,' said I, 'the song you were singing last evening;
Anna Maria and I did not understand the words very well.'
"Anna Maria suddenly rose, but as if thinking better of it, sat down
again. Stuermer had turned half around in his chair and was looking at
Susanna.
"And now she began, leaning on the balustrade; and the same tones came
to us, soft and sweet, and the same words we had heard last evening:
"'Far through the world I have wandered away,
And the old strife goes with me wherever I stray;
Home have I come, and my heart burns with pain,
Ah, that I only could wander again!
I am held not by walls, not by bolts, not by bars--
Two great blue eyes hold me, that shine like the stars I
And were but my fiery steed by my side,
Again on his willing back fain would I ride;
He would bear me away, far away from my home--
But I've seen thee again, and can never more roam!'
"I looked at Anna Maria in alarm, but her face was turned away, and only
in her trembling white hands, which she had clasped, did I detect the
agitation wrought in her by this song. Who had thought of such a song?
And Stuermer? He had sprung up and stood close by Susanna.
"'Another song, Fraeulein,' he demanded, almost vehemently, 'a different
one. You are much too young for such melancholy!'
"'A German knows no different songs, Herr Baron,' objected Pastor Gruene.
'Old national songs are sad, usually the lament for a faithless love,
for a dead treasure. Let our nation be as it is in this. I would rather
have one little German national song than a dozen French _chansons_.'
"Stuermer did not answer, and there was a painful silence.
"'Another song?' asked Susanna at last--'a lively one?'
"'Yes!' cried Klaus, 'a lively one, a hunting-song, Susanna, or a
drinking-song! 'He had risen in embarrassment at the critical situation,
and filled his glass afresh.
"And Susanna began, in a merry strain:
"'In the early morn
A-hunting I went,
Past my darling's house
My steps I bent.
"'Up to the window
A glance I threw.
Ah! if she would look down,
Good luck would ensue.
"'In vain, she's still dreaming;
But something stirred.
By the apple-tree yonder
A laugh was heard.
"'And bright as the rosy
Morning so fair,
My dear little treasure
I saw standing there.
"'Nodding and smiling,
She beckoned away,
But not one lucky shot
Had I on that day.
"'Are they bewitched, then,
My powder and lead?
Each ball flies away,
Bringing down nothing dead.'
"Susanna suddenly stopped, as if exhausted, and drew a long breath. The
laugh had vanished for a moment from her face.
"'More, more!' cried the gentlemen. 'The charming song cannot possibly
be finished?' asked Stuermer.
"'No, the conclusion is surely wanting,' added Pastor Gruene. And Susanna
drew a long breath and sang on:
"'And again past the house
I was going to-day;
Little grandmother peeped at me
Over the way.
"'With a shake of the head.
She calls with sweet grace,
"God greet you, and are you
Off to the chase?"
"'And with all my might
I cursed the old dame;
But my arm remained steady,
I missed no aim.
"'And when in surprise
I told Liebchen the tale.
She began to laugh
In a perfect gale.'
"The last verse ended in a real laugh, so roguish and charming and so
irresistible that we were all drawn into it.
"'Now that is enough!' she cried at last. 'Oh! I do so like to hear how
people have to laugh with me when I begin! Oh! I have done it so often
when Isa tried to scold me, but now'--she suddenly stopped--'I haven't
laughed for so long, I thought I should have forgotten how, but, thank
fortune, I can still do it! Oh, I do like to laugh so!'
"Anna Maria rose and went into the garden-parlor, as if she had
something to attend to there, but she did not come back, nor did she
come when Stuermer and the clergyman wished to take their leave of her.
Klaus looked for her in the sitting-room, and even went up to her
bedroom, but he returned alone, and the gentlemen had to leave without
bidding her good-by.
"'Pray excuse Anna Maria, dear Edwin,' I heard Klaus say; 'she probably
does not dream of your going so early; you are certainly in a great
hurry.'
"It was true; Stuermer's departure was very abrupt; toward the last he
had scarcely spoken a word. I thought it was because he was reminded of
his first love; that melody and the words still kept ringing in my ears;
an unfortunate song!
"Susanna had long been in bed when Klaus and I stood together in the
sitting-room again. I had firmly resolved to inform him of my
observations of the evening before, for I saw that Anna Maria was not to
be spoken to again about Susanna.
"'Klaus!' I began. He was walking slowly up and down, his hands behind
him, and an anxious wrinkle on his brow. 'Klaus, do you know where the
old actress is living now?'
"He stood still. 'No, aunt, but--do not take offence--it is quite a
matter of indifference to me. Forgive me, my head is so full.'
"I was silent. 'Good!' thought I; 'he is indifferent at last, then.'
"'Please tell me,' he now turned around to me, 'what you think about
Anna Maria? I do not understand her at all as she is now.'
"'You do not either of you understand each other, as you are now,' I
replied, not without sharpness.
"Klaus blushed. 'That may be,' he said, stroking his face.
"'Klaus,' I continued, 'do not let it go further, do not let this
discord between you take root. You are the eldest, Klaus, a reasonable
man----'
"'No, aunt, no; in this I am right!' he interrupted vehemently. 'You do
not know what passed between us this morning----'
"He broke off abruptly and turned to his newspaper at at the table, for
Anna Maria had come in. The basket of keys hung at her side, and she had
tied a white apron over her dress. Brockelmann followed her with the
silver that had been in use to-day, and was now rubbed up, ready to be
put away. Anna Maria opened the carved corner-cupboard, and began to lay
away the shining silver, piece by piece, in its place.
"Klaus had seated himself and was turning over the newspapers; the clock
already pointed to midnight. The windows were open, and from time to
time faint flashes of lightning lighted up the sky over the barns and
stables. I had become wide awake again all at once; I could not and
would not let these two be alone again to-night; they should not speak
together about Susanna.
"But Anna Maria now closed the cupboard and went up to her brother.
'Klaus,' she said in a soft voice, 'let us not leave each other thus;
let us talk the matter over once more, quietly.'
"He laid down the paper and looked at her in surprise. A faint flush lay
on her face, and her attitude was almost beseeching. 'Gladly, Anna
Maria,' he replied, rising; 'you mean concerning Susanna's future
employment? Have you any proposals to make?'
"'Yes,' she said, firmly; and after a pause continued: 'I will yield to
your opinion that physical labor is not the right thing for Susanna. But
a life of dreamy idleness I consider far more injurious to her. Indeed,
Klaus, my personal feelings toward Susanna do not speak in this. I do
not hate her, but that her nature is uncongenial to me I must own. So,
then, without regard to that, Klaus, I must repeat what I said this
morning: let Susanna go away from here, take care of her somewhere else;
she is out of place here; do it for her own sake.'
"She had spoken beseechingly, and stepping nearer him, laid her right
hand on his shoulder.
"'Well, what more?' he asked, rapidly stroking his beard. 'Where would
you think best to banish this child?'
"'Send her to a good boarding-school; let her be a teacher; she is poor,
and it is an honorable position, or----'
"'You are probably thinking of Mademoiselle Lenon in this connection,
Anna Maria?' rejoined Klaus. 'I still have her "honorable position"
distinctly before my eyes, which she held in dealing with your
stubbornness. If there ever was a being totally unfit to take upon
herself the martyrdom of a governess, it is Susanna Mattoni!'
"A slight shadow passed over Anna Maria's face as he spoke of her
stubbornness, but she was silent.
"'Perhaps,' continued Klaus bitterly, 'you would also like to make an
actress of her because she happens to have a voice and recites
charmingly.' He pushed away the newspapers and sprang up. 'I am
unutterably exasperated, Anna Maria, that you should venture to repeat
this proposition. I was not prepared for it, I must confess! What makes
you appear so hostile toward Susanna? Do you know, you who live here in
happy security, what it means for a girl so young, so inexperienced, to
be thus thrust into the world? Surely not! You fulfil your duties here,
you care and labor as hundreds would not do in your place; but here you
act the mistress, inapproachable, untouched by all the common things of
life. You do not know, even by name, those humiliations which a woman
in a dependent position must endure. I know, indeed, that hundreds
_must_ endure them, and hundreds, perhaps, do not feel what they are
deprived of; but this girl _would_ feel it, and would be unhappy, most
unhappy!
"He paused for a moment and looked at Anna Maria. She had clasped her
hands, and coldly and steadily returned his look; an almost mocking
smile lay on her lips, and put Klaus beside himself.
"'You certainly have no comprehension of this!' he cried, his face
flushed with anger. 'You have everything, Anna Maria, but you have never
possessed a heart! You can do everything but that which glorifies and
ennobles a woman--love. Anna Maria, that you cannot do! I feel deep pity
for you, for you lack a woman's sweetest charm; love and pity go
hand-in-hand. I could not imagine you as a solicitous wife, or even as a
mother; how can I expect pity for a strange child?'
"'Klaus! for God's sake, stop!' I entreated in mortal terror, for Anna
Maria had grown pale as death, and her eyes stared out into the dark
night with a vacant, terrified expression, but not a word of defence
passed her lips. Klaus shook off my hand, and continued with unchecked
vehemence:
"'It is time for me to tell you, Anna Maria; it must be said some time.
I am your guardian, and it is my right and my duty. I must, alas! accuse
myself of having given you too much liberty, and you have abused it. You
have become cold and hard; I said before I could not imagine you as a
loving mother, as a wife--that you will never be, for you will not bend.
You would never do a rash, thoughtless act, but you are unable to make a
sacrifice from real affection from your innermost heart--because you do
not understand loving, Anna Maria. As I looked at Edwin to-day, my
heart and courage sank; if ever a man was created to win a maiden's
love, it is he! But you, Anna Maria, just as you let him go away, so you
will let Susanna; it is not hard for you, because you have no heart----'
"'Stop, Klaus, stop!' Anna Maria's voice rang through the room, in
piercing woe; despairingly she stretched out her arms toward him. 'Say
nothing more, not one word; I cannot bear it!' One could see that she
wanted to say more; her trembling lips parted, but no sound passed them,
and in another moment she had turned and gone quickly out of the room.
"'Oh, Klaus!' I cried, weeping, 'you were too hard; you had no occasion
to speak so!' But I stood alone in my tears, for Klaus also left the
room, for the first time failing to pay attention to his aunt, and
slammed the door behind him.
"Yes, I stood alone and believed myself dreaming! Was this the
comfortable old room at Buetze, where formerly peace had dwelt bodily?
The candles flickered restlessly on the table, a chilling draught of air
came through the open window, and thunder faintly muttered in the
distance. No, peace had flown, and injustice, care, and animosity had
entered, had pressed their way between two human hearts which till now
had been united in true love; and there, up-stairs, lay and slept a fair
young fellow-creature, and the picture of the Mischief-maker smiled down
on her, as if glad of a successor. Yes, Klaus was right, and Anna Maria
was right; how was the difference to be made up? Ah! how quickly is a
bitter, crushing word said and heard, but a whole world of tears cannot
make it unsaid again."