"I still lingered; she looked fearfully. Her face was so pale and distorted one could scarcely recognize the blooming, girlish countenance. 'Go,' she begged; it is the only thing that you can do for me.'
"I went; no doubt she was right. In such an hour it is torment even to breathe in the sight of others. But why did she not fly to her room? I turned around once more at the stairs; I wanted to ask her to drink a glass of lemonade, and go to bed. The sitting-room was dark, but through the crack of the door which led to Klaus's room came a ray of candle-light; she was in there.
"Two days had passed since that evening, and Anna Maria continued to go about without speaking. At dinner she had sat at the table, but had eaten nothing, and she wandered about for hours through the garden, in rain and storm. Brockelmann insisted upon it, with tears, that I ought to send for the doctor, for her young lady was bent upon doing something which, she thought, pointed to the beginning of a disease of the mind. Anna Maria was no longer like herself. Did she rue her violence, or did she fear seeing Klaus again? I knew not. She had not written to him. I intended to do so in the beginning, but then gave it up; he must come, and the more time that elapsed, the calmer our hearts would be.
"Susanna sat by the window up-stairs, in her room, a white cloth bound about her forehead, and her eyes, weary and red with weeping, looked out upon the leafless garden. I had been to her room several times to speak with her as forbearingly as possible. I wished to set before her her own wrong, to tell her that a warm, almost idolatrous love for Klaus, and the fear that he might not be happy, had driven Anna Maria to an extreme. But here, too, I met with silent, obstinate resistance—that is, I received no answer, only that Isabella said to me, with a sparkle in her black eyes: 'She has been abused, and she has been pushed, my poor child!' Whether or not Susanna had written to Klaus I did not learn."
CHAPTER XVI.
"It was almost evening, on the 13th of November, as an extra post drove quickly into the court. 'Another visit!' was my first thought, so many people had been turned away in those days. 'You will fare no better,' thought I; 'you will soon turn around and drive home.' But, no, the carriage stopped, and a gentleman swung himself out. My heart stood still from fear—Klaus! How came Klaus to-day?
"Should I hurry out to meet him? Prevent him from meeting Anna Maria? Prepare him, forbearingly? But how? Could I speak of the conflict without mortally wounding him? It was too late already; I heard his step on the stairs; he was going up to Susanna first of all; he had probably been told that she was up-stairs. I stepped into the hall quite unconsciously, and at the same time Susanna's door opened, her light figure appeared on the threshold, then she flew toward the man who was standing there with outstretched arms. 'Klaus, Klaus! my dear Klaus!' sounded in my ear, tender and exultant with joy. Oh, Anna Maria, if you were to speak to him with the tongue of an angel it would avail you nothing; it is too late!
"I saw Klaus press the slender figure to him, and saw her throw her arms about his neck, and again and again put up her lips to be kissed; and I heard her begin to sob, first gently, then more vehemently, and cry: 'Now all is well, all, now that you are here!' And she clung to him like a hunted deer.
"I stepped back softly; I still saw how Susanna drew him into her room, caressing him, and heard his deep, passionate voice; then the door was closed behind them. 'Caught!' said I, softly, 'caught, like Tannhäuser of old in the Hörfelsberg!' And bitter tears ran from my old eyes as I went down-stairs to go to Anna Maria.