"Who rides so late through night and wind?" asked Kläre merrily, holding out her hand cordially to the new arrival.
Hannah Gropphusen greeted the festive circle with a bright smile, and replied: "Do forgive me, Colonel von Falkenhein. The lights and the festivity in your arbour were too inviting." She raised her glass, and drank to Kläre Güntz: "To your happiness, dear Frau Kläre, from the bottom of my heart."
"I have been delayed at Frau von Stuckardt's," she then said; "or, rather, Frau von Stuckardt would not let me leave."
"Stuckardt told me," interrupted the colonel, "that his wife was not well."
"Yes, she has got the old pain in her face back again, which no doctor can relieve, and that was why I had to stay so long. I had to keep my hands on her cheeks. She says I have soothing hands and can do her good."
Reimers looked across at her. She was sitting a little in the shadow, so that her white straw hat and light blouse stood out distinctly. On her bosom sparkled a small diamond. Only the tip of her foot was visible in the lamplight, a beautiful, narrow, elegantly-shod foot, which was swinging rapidly backwards and forwards.
To avoid catching her eye, Reimers turned to Marie Falkenhein, his neighbour. The Maibowle had got into his head a little. He chatted away cheerfully, the young girl listening with flushed cheeks and radiant eyes, and answering laughingly from time to time. They neither of them noticed that meanwhile Frau von Gropphusen had emptied her glass and was preparing to go.
"Many thanks," she said. "I was nearly fainting. The Maibowle has done me good. But it's getting late; I must go home."
"Of course they are expecting you at home?" asked Falkenhein.
Hannah Gropphusen laughed rather bitterly.