"But my foot stopped again; a horseman was coming along by the hedge, and, in spite of the gray twilight, I recognized Stürmer; he waved his hat in greeting over toward the arbor, and there some one beckoned—I very nearly had palpitation of the heart from joyful fear—with a white cloth, and this little signal waved in the misty evening air till he disappeared behind the trees on the other side of the bridge.
"'Anna Maria! Is it possible?' said I, half-aloud, as I walked on—that it sounded like a cry of exultation I could not help. Ah, all must be well yet, and surely all would be well! I hurried up the steps to write a few words to Klaus. 'Anna Maria and Edwin were nearer than he had hoped'—how pleased he would be! But I did not accomplish that to-day. Brockelmann came to meet me in the entrance-hall, and in spite of my happy agitation, I had to listen to a long story, for which she even urged me to come into her neat little room. A married niece of hers, living in the village, had had a quarrel with her husband yesterday, in the course of which he had emphatically tried to prove conclusively the 'I am to be your master!' with a heavy stick. The good Brockelmann was beside herself at the 'wicked fellow,' and would not let me go till I had solemnly promised to take the tyrant to task. 'Anna Maria understands it even better, perhaps,' she added, 'but I don't know what is the matter with her now. I think I might tell her a story ten times over, and at the end she would look at me and ask: "What are you saying, Brockelmann?" I wish I could just get at the bottom of it!'
"'Well,' I said, smiling, 'I will see to it; send the rude old fellow up to me to-morrow.' She followed me into the hall, and clattered down-stairs in her slippers, scolding away, and in a very bad humor, because Rieke had not yet lighted the hall-lamps.
"In my room still glimmered the last ray of daylight, and in this uncertain light I saw a figure rising from the arm-chair by the stove. 'Anna Maria, is it you?' I asked, recognizing her.
"She came slowly over to me. 'Yes, aunt, I have something to deliver to you. Stürmer has been here; he wanted to speak to you; about what, I don't know.' She spoke hesitatingly and softly. 'Then he asked me to hand you this note, which he wrote hastily.'
"She pressed a note into my hand. 'Here, aunt, read.' I sat down in the low chair by the stove, and held the sheet in the flickering light of the flames, but the letters danced indistinctly before my eyes. 'We must have a light,' said I; 'or read it aloud to me, Anna Maria, it takes so long for Brockelmann to bring a lamp.'
"Anna Maria knelt down beside me, and took the letter. 'Ought I to know, too, what it contains?' she asked.
"'Oh, of course I allow it, only read!' And Anna Maria began:
"'My dear, esteemed Aunt Rosamond:—Unfortunately I did not find you at home. Please expect me to-morrow afternoon at five o'clock. I have something to discuss with you, and want your advice in a matter upon the issue of which the peace and happiness of my heart will depend. Say nothing yet to Anna Maria!
"'In haste and impatience,
"'Your most devoted
"'Edwin Stürmer.'
"Anna Maria did not read it just as it stands here; it came out in broken sentences; then the sheet fluttered to the floor, she buried her fair head in my lap, and threw her arms impetuously about me. 'Aunt, ah, aunt!' she groaned.