"Then I heard Anna Maria's sonorous voice. She spoke of a great piece of good fortune that had come to Susanna, and said that she hoped Susanna would reward so much love, such infinite trust, with all her powers, in order to make the man happy who offered her a name, a home, and a heart.
"Tears came into my eyes again; there was something in Anna Maria's voice that pained me infinitely. I pictured to myself the proud maiden before the vagabond actress, to whom she was now speaking as to an equal. That which I had considered impossible now happened, out of love to her brother. Now I thought the old woman must break out in an ecstasy of joy; I shuddered already at the thought of the theatrical glorification in her darling's good fortune. Far from it; she spoke quietly and coolly. I could not understand her, but it sounded like a murmur of discontent.
"'I do not comprehend you,' Anna Maria said, now icily; 'if I have rightly understood my brother's letter, Susanna gave her assent on the evening when she fled to you. What? Is she, meanwhile, to have changed her mind?'
"Again a murmur; then I heard disconnected words between the old woman's sobs: 'Defence—true love—' and so forth. This homeless woman was as pretentious as a ruling princess making arrangements to give her daughter in marriage to a man of a lower class.
"Then I heard her leave the room. When I reëntered Anna Maria was standing at the window, her forehead pressed against the panes, her clenched hand rested on the window-sill, and her lips were tightly closed.
"'Anna Maria,' said I, 'this person must leave the house.'
"'Klaus may decide that,' she replied, gently; 'I have no longer any voice in this matter.'
"'She is an arrogant thing!' I continued, in my wrath.
"Anna Maria turned. 'Ah, aunt,' said she, 'the old woman loves Susanna like a mother, and such a relative naturally asks, in respect to the most brilliant match: "Will it be for the child's happiness?" I ought not to have taken it amiss; it was unjust in me.'
"I pressed her hand softly. Anna Maria's noble sentiments sprang forth in her pain, like flowers after rain. God grant that she was right in her excuse!