"And by the time the last of the guests were in their carriage Susanna had made at least a dozen promises which all had reference to a pleasant, lively intercourse. We accompanied the guests to the steps; in the confusion of parting words Susanna must have taken herself off, for when the last carriage rolled away I was standing alone beside Anna Maria in the dimly lighted hall.
"'Come, my child,' said I, taking her cold hands and drawing her into the room. And then she sat in Klaus's chair for perhaps a quarter of an hour, without speaking a word, her hands folded on the table, her eyes cast down. The clock ticked lightly, the wind rustled through the tall trees out-of-doors, and now and then a candle sputtered; it began to seem almost uncanny to me, sitting there opposite the silent girl.
"'Anna Maria!' I cried at last.
"She started up. 'Yes, come,' she said, 'We will ask her! Rather the shrugs of those people than a misery here in the house. I would rather see Klaus unhappy for a time than deceived all his life long. Come, aunt.' And with firm step she went out of the room, along the corridor, and up the stairs.
"I followed her as quickly as I could; my heart beat fast with anxiety and grief. 'Anna Maria,' I begged, 'not to-day, not now. Come into my room, you are too excited.' But she walked on. Up-stairs, in front of Susanna's door, I perceived by the light of the hall lamp a great flat chest; white tissue-paper showed under the lid, which had not been tightly closed.
"'What is that?' Anna Maria asked Brockelmann, who was just coming out of the room.
"'The chest came from Berlin to-day,' the old woman replied; 'I suppose from the master.'
"Anna Maria nodded and opened the door quickly. A flood of light streamed out toward us, and surrounded the slender white figure before the large mirror; soft creamy satin fell in heavy folds about her, and lay in a long train on the floor; a gauzy veil lay, like a mist, over the nearest arm-chair, and a pair of small white shoes peeped out from their wrapper on the table. She turned around at our entrance, and stood there with a shamefaced smile—Susanna Mattoni was trying on her wedding-dress.
"Anna Maria let go of the door-handle and stepped over the threshold, looking fixedly at Susanna, her face crimson.
"'Take off that dress!' she commanded, in a voice scarcely audible from excitement.