"The harvest festival was celebrated more quietly than usual this year,
at least at the manor-house. Otherwise everything was as usual. Under
the four great oaks in the yard, near the garden wall, the dancing-floor
was laid; gay garlands, tied with bows of ribbon, hung on the old trees,
the whole court-yard seemed to be made as clean as a room, and
everywhere there was an odor of pine-boughs and fresh cake.
"The weather was splendid on this October day, a little hoar-frost, to
be sure, on the roofs, but the sun soon melted that away. Early in the
day everything was under way; the village children, in new red flannel
dresses and dazzling white shirts, appeared first to receive their cakes
from Brockelmann. In the servants' kitchen three maids were cutting a
regular wash-kettle full of potato salad, and the odor of roast beef and
veal rose seductively to the noses of the farm people and day-laborers
just assembling in the court for the festal church-going.
"Anna Maria was standing in the hall waiting for me as I came
down-stairs. 'Are you bringing Susanna with you?' she asked. At the same
time steps were heard behind me; Isa came down, begging excuse for
Susanna, who felt fatigued, and could not make up her mind to go to
church.
"Anna Maria frowned. It was the custom in our family that not a single
member should be absent to-day. 'Is it absolutely impossible?' she
asked.
"'Yes!' declared Isabella, and Anna Maria and I went alone. The bells
were ringing gayly, and the sun shone brightly in at the windows of the
little church, upon the garlands of corn with their red and blue
ribbons, on the altar, and upon the happy faces of the people. With
festal gladness was sung the 'Now thank we all our God.' It had, indeed,
been a blessed harvest year. And in earnest words the clergyman charged
the people with heartfelt gratitude to God, who gave this year of
blessing, gradually passing on to speak of the seed in the heart of man.
'Take care that there may be a blessed harvest here, too, when, by and
by, it will be autumn with you; think of the heavenly Harvest Home; well
for him who brings precious fruits, ripened in humility, planted in
love!' He then counselled the men to labor, the women to gentleness in
the home, and finally remembered in his prayer the absent master of the
manor. Anna Maria's head was bent low; I saw how she joined with her
whole heart in the prayer for her brother, how a great tear fell from
her eye upon the leaves of her hymn-book.
"When the last verse had been sung we had to hurry home; for immediately
after service the people always brought the harvest wreath, and to-day
Anna Maria had to thank them in her brother's place. She cast a glance
across to Stuermer's seat; it was empty. Perhaps he was already waiting
at the manor. We walked through the greeting throng as rapidly as my
lame foot would allow, and Anna Maria quickly laid aside hat and shawl
in the garden-parlor, for we already heard the music in the village
street.
"'I don't know about it, aunt,' she said. 'It is dreadful to me without
Klaus; if only Stuermer, at least, were here!'
"'The baron has been in the garden for an hour,' remarked Marieken, who
had just run in, in dazzlingly clean attire, to inform us that the
people were coming.
"'Then go and look for him, Marieken,' I bade. 'I will call Susanna and
Isa.'
"'There comes the baron, now,' cried Marieken, with a glance at the
window, and opened the door leading to the terrace.
"I could not believe my eyes; yes, there he was coming along the
garden-path, and beside him--Susanna. She did not walk, she floated, as
if carried along by the sound of the march, borne hither on the warm
autumn air. A pink dress fluttered and blew about her delicate figure,
and her lips and cheeks were tinged with the same color. With
outstretched arms she flew up the steps.
"Oh, Anna Maria, oh, Fraeulein Rosamond, listen, just listen!' she cried,
in ecstasy.
"Stuermer followed her, smiling, and offered Anna Maria his arm.
Hesitatingly, with a long look at Susanna, she took it. The latter
looked after them in wonder, and walked silently beside me.
"Before the house a crowd of people had assembled, in eager expectation;
then came the children, dancing and skipping, in at the gate; behind
them came the musicians, and over the long procession which followed
hovered the wreath of golden corn, adorned with colored ribbons, waving
gayly in the warm autumn wind.
"Anna Maria stood beside Stuermer, on the front steps, her hand still
resting lightly on his arm; she wore her blue dress and white lace
kerchief. A sad smile lay on her lips as the speaker, followed by two
girls bearing the wreath, now advanced to the steps, and, making a sign
for the music to stop, began the old speech:
"'God be praised, who gives sun and rain;
God be praised, who gives his blessing again;
God be praised, who, in this year,
Has blessed our fields so richly here.
May he give further fortune good,
To man and beast, to field and wood,
And may his gracious blessing fall
On man and beast, on people all.
And on the house we hang to-day
The wreath, that blessings here may stay.
A pious wife, and children fair,
May they ere long be dwelling there!
That is our wish upon this day;
God will provide for come what may.
Take not this speech of ours amiss.
Full of good-will, indeed, it is!'
"A peal of music accompanied the three hearty cheers of the people; the
two pretty girls laid the wreath at Anna Maria's feet as she kindly
shook hands with the speaker. 'I thank you heartily, people,' she said
in her deep, mature voice. 'I thank you in the name of my brother far
away, who is much grieved not to be able to stand here to-day. I thank
you for the honest diligence and labor of this year, and wish that the
good old harmony may continue between gentry and people as has ever been
the manner at Buetze. And now, in my brother's name, enjoy the present
day, and be happy as befits this feast.'
"'Long may she live, our gracious Fraeulein!' cried the people; the lads
tossed their caps in the air, and with music the procession went into
the great barn, where long tables were set for the harvest banquet.
"Anna Maria had dropped Stuermer's arm as she stepped forward to speak.
He appeared strangely moved, and a slight, indefinable smile lay on his
lips. I remembered his once saying that nothing was more dreadful to him
in a woman than to see her, even for a moment, assume the position of a
man, and in that light he evidently regarded the speech.
"During the shouting I looked around for Susanna; she had disappeared.
There was not much time to reflect where she might be. Anna Maria now
made the round of the tables; she had to have her health drunk, and
drink in return. Stuermer accompanied her; it was a pretty sight to see
them walking together across the court.
"On that day not the slightest thing escaped me, but now I cannot tell
exactly what this and that one did; it only came to me upon reflection,
much later; and then one thing after another came into my mind. At the
time I did not wonder at the rose-colored dress which Susanna wore, and
which was so charmingly suited to her transparent complexion; it did not
occur to me at all that she was still in mourning for her father, nor
did I think about her having been too indisposed to go to church in the
morning, and then, soon after, coming running from the garden, with rosy
cheeks. I thought nothing of it, that at the table--to-day there was a
long row of us, the clergyman and his sister, two bailiffs, three
farm-pupils, a forester, and Isabella (by way of exception)--she laughed
through the entire scale every minute, and carried on all manner of
nonsense.
"Anna Maria sat at the head, beside the clergyman, Susanna at her right,
and Stuermer next; I sat next to Pastor Gruene, and we formed the upper
end of the table. I could see that Anna Maria often looked gravely at
Susanna; yet a ray of pleasure broke from her eyes when they rested upon
this embodied rosebud, and saw how roguish were the dimples in her
cheeks, how her eyes shone, and her little teeth flashed behind the red
lips, and how she chattered all manner of pretty, foolish stuff.
Isabella's face shone with pride and she looked at the guests in turn;
almost every eye was fixed on the girl.
"Then Stuermer rose, and proposed the health of the master of the
house--'his best friend,' as he said--and 'the house that was as dear to
him as a paternal home.'
"And Anna Maria's face glowed as she raised her glass to touch with him.
But Susanna trembled, and put her glass down untouched; she grew pale
and quiet, and scarcely spoke again.
"Pastor Gruene raised a full glass to the lady of the house; 'the
mistress of Buetze,' he called Anna Maria. The old man was much moved as
he made mention of her youth and how serious and careful she was;
nevertheless, a Martha, who was never weary in working and doing. Anna
Maria let the current of his remarks pass her by, and quietly thanked
him as she raised her glass. All crowded about her to touch her glass,
last of all, Stuermer; she did not look at him as their glasses touched.
But Susanna fixed her eyes on Anna Maria with an expression of
astonishment; she had probably never reflected that there was anything
great about such activity. I noticed, too, that she shivered suddenly,
as if under a disagreeable impression.
"Then there came sounds of music through the wide-opened windows; the
dancing was beginning under the oaks, and the family must not be wanting
there. Anna Maria rose from the table, and beckoned to Susanna; we old
people sat still longer, and chatted of this and that. My old friend was
enjoying her afternoon coffee, which she declared she never could do
without, too much to leave; the pastor lighted a pipe, and leaned
comfortably back in his great arm-chair. Ah! how long we had known each
other, had borne together joy and sorrow. We had, indeed, no lack of
conversational matter.
"But I did not stay here long, for there is nothing I like so much to
see as happy young people dancing. 'Oh, let us go under the oaks,' I
said; but Mademoiselle Gruene preferred to take a nap up-stairs in my
quiet room, assuring me that she would follow soon; so the pastor
escorted me down. When we arrived at the dancing ground, which was
surrounded by people, I saw Anna Maria with the head-servant, and
Stuermer with the upper housemaid, turning in the floating waltz, for
they had to dance with all in turn. But where was Susanna?
"I went around the living wall of people. Under one of the oaks, chairs
and tables had been set apart for the family, and, the people had
respectfully kept away from this spot. Here stood Susanna, her arm
thrown around the rough trunk of the tree, her great eyes fixed on the
dancing couples; her delicate nostrils quivered, her breast heaved
violently, and tears sparkled in her eyes.
"'I want to dance, too,' she burst forth, passionately; 'I want to
dance, too, just one single time!'
"Already Stuermer was coming through the crowd and hurrying up to her.
There was no ceremonious request, for a dance, he forgot every formal
bow, she was even stretching out her arms toward him, longingly. I think
he carried her through the throng rather than that they walked; then he
put his arm around her. Was it my imagination, or did he really press
her so fast to him that they scarcely touched the ground? As in a dream,
I heard Pastor Gruene say something about a Titania. I only saw the
gracefully swaying figures, the fluttering pink dress, the bright rose
in the dark hair, whirling in the rapid dance, and heard the floating
melody of the waltz. And above them the old oaks swayed their branches,
letting sportive sunbeams through. So distinctly, ah! so distinctly, I
can see all this before me.
"Then she stopped, out of breath, and leaned on his arm, a smile of
rapture on her glowing face. Was it all only my fancy? Anna Maria so
quiet yonder, scarcely breathing after the quick dance; it was surely my
imagination that made me think Susanna ought to have looked a little
less enchanted, that she ought not to have danced, being betrothed to
another. Yes, indeed, I was carrying it too far. And with whom was she
dancing then? With Stuermer, with Klaus's best friend. Could there be any
danger in that now, when everything was plain between them?
"My thoughts went no farther, for just then the clear tone of a
post-horn rang out in the midst of the dance-music, a yellow coach
rattled into the court and stopped before the steps, and a man swung
himself out.
"'Klaus!' I cried out, and at the first moment would have gone to meet
him; then I thought of Susanna--he came on her account, of course; they
could not meet here, in the face of all these witnesses. I turned
hastily to lead Susanna through the park to the house.
"She was lying unconscious in Isa's arms. 'The dance, the fatal dance!'
lamented Isa; 'she cannot bear it!'
"Anna Maria, pale with fear, bent over her. 'Alas! just at this moment!
Aunt,' she whispered, 'go to Klaus, or I--no, you, I beg you.'
"I limped across the court as quickly as I could; he was already coming
toward me in the hall, his whole handsome face glowing with pleasure;
without further ado, he took me in his arms.
"'They are under the oaks, are they not?' he asked. 'I wanted to be here
to dinner, but these post-horses are miserable nags; they went like
snails.' And he took my hand and pressed it to his lips. 'Is she
not--Susanna--she----'
"'No, Klaus, they are no longer there. Wait a minute, come into your
room; Anna Maria will be here at once. The fact is, Susanna is not quite
well to-day; I would rather tell her first that you have come, so
unexpectedly.'
"I pushed him back into the sitting-room; Stuermer was just coming in
through the garden-parlor. A frightened look came over Klaus's face, but
the question died on his lips as Stuermer cordially held out both hands
to him, and then, turning to me, said: 'What is the matter with Fraeulein
Mattoni? Can it really be the effect of dancing? Only think, Klaus, a
moment ago she was rosy and happy, and just as you came rattling into
the yard, I saw her turn pale and totter, and before I knew what it
meant, her old duenna had caught her, and was lamenting, "That comes of
dancing!" Is that possible?'
"'Of course!' I declared, quickly; 'Susanna is delicate, and the giddy
round dance--' I broke off, for Klaus looked so anxious I feared he
might betray himself on the spot.
"'Dear Edwin,' I begged, 'will you take my place with the guests outside
for a moment longer? Pastor Gruene is sitting quite alone on the bench;
you know he is sensitive. Klaus, you will excuse me; I will see how
things are going up-stairs, and send Brockelmann to you with something
to eat.'
"I do not know if Edwin Stuermer was enraptured at my request, but like
an ever-courteous man he went down at once.
"Anna Maria met me on the stairs.
"'Where is he?' she asked hastily, without stopping.
"'Susanna is not seriously ill!' she called back; 'she has opened her
eyes again already.' Her blue dress fluttered once more behind the brown
balustrade; then I heard the cry, 'Klaus, dear Klaus!' a sob, and the
door closed.
"Susanna was lying on her bed; her dress had been taken off, and she was
lightly covered with a shawl; she held both hands pressed to her
temples. Isabella was perched before her, holding a flask of
strong-smelling ether. She tenderly stroked the girl's cheeks, and
whispered eagerly to her. When she saw me, she got up.
"'How disagreeable, Fraeulein! Just in this joyful hour the foolish child
has to faint; but so it goes, if young people will not listen,' she
began, in a remarkably talkative mood. 'Susanna, my heart, are you
better? I have said a hundred times you mustn't dance; it isn't even a
refined pleasure to whirl about among those common people. Heavens! what
a smell! But, obstinate as ever--wait, I shall tell your _fiance_ of it,
that he may keep a firm hand over you. Oh, yes, young people----'
"Susanna gave her nurse a look which expressed everything possible
except love and respect.
"'Come, come, be brisk, Susy,' she continued inexorably, 'or do you
think it is pleasant for Herr von Hegewitz to be waiting for you like
this?'
"Susanna raised herself with a jerk. 'Do be still,' she said, folding
her hands, 'I am so dizzy, so ill!'
"'Lie still, Susanna,' I said, to calm her. 'Perhaps you will be better
toward evening. Klaus must have patience. Shall I take any greetings to
him, meanwhile?'
"She lay back on the pillow, her face turned away from me, and nodded
silently. 'Let her sleep,' said I to Isabella; 'she is really
exhausted.'
"The old woman shrugged her shoulders. 'I cannot do anything to help
matters, either,' she whispered. 'It is unpleasant, but she will soon
recover. I know--the nerves, yes, the nerves!' And she sat down on the
girl's bed. She looked strangely grotesque and weird, in her enormous
black cap with bright orange-colored bows.
"Anna Maria and Klaus were just going down the front steps to the
dancing-ground, and he had his arm around her. When they saw me they
turned around. Klaus looked troubled, and in Anna Maria's eyes there
were traces of tears.
"'You will see her to-day, yet,' I said to him, consolingly. He pressed
my hand, and sighed.
"'He is only going to stay till to-morrow, aunt," Anna Maria informed
me; 'he only came on Susanna's account.' She spoke pleasantly, and
looked up at him with a smile.
"'Alas, alas!' said Klaus, 'affairs are so involved there; but I just
wanted to see how such an engagement is good-for-nothing without having
once expressed one's self in words. Anything written sounds so cold,
doesn't it? It seemed so to me! And then I am glad that I have come, for
Susanna's health does not seem to be quite firm yet. I will speak with
the doctor, and after the wedding will go south with her.' A very
anxious expression lay on his countenance.
"'Poor Klaus, such a reception!' bewailed Anna Maria. 'I do not
understand it, either; Susanna was so suddenly seized; she was just
seeming so bright again.'
"'You must not let her dance,' said he in reproof.
"'Oh, the kobold was between them before we could prevent it,' I joked.
"'Stuermer dances so madly,' remarked Klaus.
"Meanwhile we had arrived at the scene of festivities. The dancers were
still floating gayly about there; Stuermer was leaning, with folded arms,
against a tree, and was apparently out of humor. As soon as the people
discovered their master, he was received with a storm of greetings, for
they were all waiting to welcome him. Klaus spoke a few words to them,
and then would have withdrawn, but that was not permitted; he had to
dance with the upper housemaid. With a half-amiable, half-morose
expression, he took a few turns with the girl, who blushed red at the
joy and honor.
"Anna Maria had seated herself in one of the chairs under the trees;
Edwin was standing before her, and a happy smile was on her lips. The
rays of the setting sun glimmered over her fair head and tinged her face
with a warm color.
"She looked wonderfully pretty at this moment; Stuermer looked
meditatively down at her. I thought of everything possible as I looked
at the two. What will one not think under a blue sky, amid sunshine and
gay music?
"It was deep twilight when Isabella came into my room to say that
Susanna was ready to see Klaus, and to ask if the meeting might be here.
I assented joyfully; the old woman went away, and a moment after a
slender white figure entered, and leaned, almost tottering, against the
great oaken wardrobe by the door. Isabella went away, saying she would
inform the master.
"Slowly Susanna came as far as the middle of the room. I made haste to
light a candle, but she begged me not to do it; her voice sounded almost
breathless. When I heard Klaus's rapid step in the hall, I went into the
adjoining room, whereupon Susanna took a few hasty steps after me, as if
she would detain me; but I would not have spoiled this quarter of an
hour for Klaus by my presence for anything in the world. Why should a
third person hear what two people who are to belong to each other
forever have to say? And so I drew the door to, and only heard a voice,
full of emotion, cry: 'Susanna!'
"I stood at the open window, and looked out on the moonlit court; in the
house all was still. Edwin Stuermer had driven away before supper,
rightly supposing that we should have a great deal to talk about during
Klaus's short stay; the guests from the parsonage, too, had gone home
early. Isabella had doubtless called Klaus from Anna Maria's side to
Susanna; the people were dancing on gayly under the oaks, by the light
of lanterns; the sound of music, and now and then of a bold shout, came
over to me, or the beginning of a song from a girl's fresh voice; and
the air was mild as on a spring evening.
"'Anna Maria?--what is she doing now?' thought I. And the minutes ran
away and became quarter-hours; with a clank, the old clock struck seven.
I sprang up; no, the old aunt did not quite forget the requirements of
etiquette. I opened the door and went into my room. I saw the two
standing at the window; he had put his arm around her, and was bending
low over her.
"'And now, say _one_ word, Susanna; say that you love me as I love you!'
I heard him whisper, hotly and beseechingly.
"The moonlight fell all about her bright, delicate figure, and I could
distinctly see her arm begin slowly to slip from his shoulder. The music
out of doors had just ceased; for an instant there was a breathless
silence, then the deep, sad tones of a young man's voice floated in at
the open window:
"'I thought I held thee wondrous dear,
Ere I another found;
Farewell, I know it first to-day
What 'tis to be love-bound,'
came up the sound. Susanna's arm slipped quite down Once more I heard
him whisper, more softly than before. 'Yes!' said Susanna, quickly and
in a half-stifled tone, and I saw Klaus take her in his arms impetuously
and kiss her.
"The following day fairly flew away, I can scarcely toll how, now. There
were so many things to be talked about, agreed upon, and arranged.
"Klaus had talked with Isabella about the wedding, and they were agreed
that the 22d of November should be the festal day. Isabella came out of
his room with a new silk dress on her arm; she did not look wholly
enraptured, for he had told her that he was going to hire a comfortable
little dwelling in Berlin, and provide for her support; until the
wedding she might stay here. Anna Maria had prevailed upon him to do
this, and he himself did not consider the old woman exactly a desirable
appendix to his wife. She cast an enraged look at Anna Maria as she went
out; she knew to whom she owed this arrangement, so little to her mind.
"On Susanna's hand sparkled a brilliant ring. Klaus was constantly at
her side. I saw them in the morning wandering up and down the
garden-paths, and once, too, heard her charming laugh, but it was
shortly broken off. She was quiet, but nevertheless let herself be
adored like a queen by her attentive lover.
"How happy he looked, the dear old fellow, and how truly concerned he
was about the little maiden to whom he had given his heart! Like an
anxious mother, he bundled her up in shawls and rugs when she sat out on
the terrace in the warm midday sun. Every sentence which he uttered
began: 'Susanna, would you be pleased if it were thus?' and concluded:
'If you are content, of course, my darling!'
"Anna Maria had a great deal to do out of doors. Was it really the case?
Did it pain her to see the two thus? Had a feeling of real jealousy come
over her? She left the tiresome business of a _dame d'honneur_ almost
entirely to me.
"At evening Klaus had to go away again, and the hour drew quickly near;
he grew silent and tender the nearer the moment of separation came.
After supper we sat in the garden-parlor, about the lighted lamp.
Klaus's travelling cloak and rug lay on a chair; Susanna had gone to her
room for a moment, and Anna Maria to the kitchen to prepare a glass of
mulled wine for Klaus, for he had grown icy cold. Klaus held a knot of
ribbon in his hand, which he had taken from Susanna's hair.
"'Aunt Rosamond,' said he, suddenly, looking over at me, 'Stuermer comes
here very often now, doesn't he?'
"'Yes, Klaus, very often.'
"'Does he intend to ride a pair of horses to death to--to play whist
with you?' he asked, smiling.
"'I don't know, Klaus,' I replied.
"He came nearer to me. 'If it only might be, aunt,' he said gently; 'do
you think that this time Anna Maria would, again----'
"'No, Klaus; if I understand Anna Maria aright, she still loves
Stuermer.'
"'Still, aunt? _Now_, you mean to say?'
"I knew not what answer to make.
"'I should be so glad,' he began again, 'if Anna Maria and Edwin----'
"He broke off, for Susanna had entered; she had such a light, floating
gait that we did not notice her till she was already standing in the
middle of the room. Slowly she came nearer; she was doubtless suffering
at the thought of separation, for she looked very pale and scarcely
spoke that evening. When Klaus folded her in his arms on his departure
she looked up into his true, agitated face, and for an instant, raising
herself on tip-toe, she put both arms around his neck, but for his
affectionate words she had no reply.
"She remained standing beside me on the front steps, looking after him,
as, wrapped in his great cloak, he got into the carriage. Anna Maria
went down the steps with him, and put extra rugs and foot-sacks in with
her own hands. The brother and sister held out their hands to each
other, but Klaus's looks sped past Anna Maria up to the delicate figure
standing motionless in the flickering light of the lanterns. Brockelmann
looked, suddenly transfixed, at the girl, who only waved her hand
lightly. The carriage drove rattling away; once more he leaned his head
out; then the carriage rolled through the gateway, out into the night.
"Susanna did not wait till Anna Maria had come up the steps; she ran
back into the house as if pursued, and I heard her light step going
up-stairs.
"Anna Maria and I went back to the garden-parlor. Neither of us spoke; I
laid my knitting-work and glasses in my work-basket, and Anna Maria
stood, reflecting, in the middle of the room. All at once I saw her take
a few steps forward and quickly stoop over; when she stood upright again
she had grown pale. Her hand held a small, shining object--Susanna's
engagement ring!
"She said not a word, but put the ring on the table and sat down. She
waited for Susanna. She _must_ miss the ring, and would hurry down
directly, anxiously hunting for it.
"An hour passed. Anna Maria had taken up one of Scott's novels; she
turned the pages at long intervals. I had taken out my knitting again.
At last she laid aside the book.
"'We will go to bed, Aunt Rosamond,' said she. 'Will you give the ring
to Susanna?'
"I took the little pledge of love, wrought in heavy gold. 'It must be
too large for her,' said I, in excuse.
"'Yes,' replied Anna Maria, harshly, 'it is not suited to her hand.' And
nodding gravely, she left the room before me.