"Eleven o'clock struck as I knocked at Susanna's door. She did not answer. I went softly into the room; a candle on the mantel, just on the point of going out, threw its unsteady light on the girl. She was lying on one side, her face turned toward the room, a smile on the red lips; beside the bed Stürmer's spray of roses, carefully placed in water.
"It was a dismal morning that followed. Anna Maria remained in her room; she did not answer our knocks, and there was no movement within. Brockelmann's eyes were red with weeping; she shook her head, and went about the house on tip-toe, as if there were a dead person in it. I was in sheer despair, and limped from Anna Maria's door to my room, and back again. The bailiffs came and inquired for her, and went away astonished—she did not appear.
"About eight o'clock I went softly to Susanna's room. She had just risen, and was arranging her hair. The windows were opened wide; through the branches of the trees golden sunbeams slipped into the room and played over the young creature who, trifling and smiling and fresh as a rose, stood, in her white dressing-sack, before the mirror. She did not hear me enter, for she went on trilling a little song half aloud; clear as a bell the tones floated out on the clear morning air. Isa's death-bed was forgotten; ah! and something else, probably.
"I closed the door again cautiously; I was never so anxious before in my life.
"'Is Fräulein Anna Maria ill?' asked Susanna, as she found only two places set at dinner. She had come from the garden, and had a bunch of white asters at her bosom, and her eyes shone with delight.
"'I think so,' said I, softly, and folded my hands for the grace. Susanna showed a pitying face for a moment, and then began to chatter; she was in a most agreeable mood.
"The day wore on. Anna Maria remained invisible. Brockelmann was quite beside herself. 'She is crying, she is crying as if her heart would break,' she said, coming into my room before going to bed.
"'She is crying? That is good!' said I, relieved.
"'She has never cried so much in all her life before, whispered the old woman; 'something must have happened that cuts deep into her heart.'
"'I cannot confide it to you, Brockelmann,' I replied, 'but you will know it soon.' I was sorry for the old woman; she was trembling in every limb.