"'I am not at all sure of my case,' he replied, 'or should I be standing here? Should I not long ago have explained an old, unhappy mistake?'
"'You are in great haste, Edwin,' said I bitterly. 'Yesterday was the first anniversary of Klaus's death!'
"'It has been very hard for me to wait so long,' he answered, in the calmest tone. 'Well, if you will not, I must devise some means by myself,' he declared impetuously. 'Where is Anna Maria?'
"'No, no,' I begged, 'for God's sake! It would grieve her to death. I will go. I will speak for you, if it must be!' And again burning tears came into my eyes. 'So tell me what message am I to deliver?'
"He was silent. 'If—if—I beg you, aunt, I do not know,' he stammered at length; 'it will be best for me to speak to her myself.' And before I could say a word he had hurried out.
"I do not know how it happened, but I was bitterly angry with him—he, usually the man of tenderest feeling and greatest tact! 'To think that love should sometimes drive the best people so mad!' I said angrily, wiping the tears from my eyes.
"And now there would be a love-affair and an engagement; yesterday deep widow's weeds, to-morrow red roses! I clinched my fists, not for myself, but for Anna Maria. I was pained to the depths of my heart. For Anna Maria it was the death-blow. The love for Stürmer was deeply rooted in her heart. She would get over this, too; she would rise up from this, too; but the spirit of her youth was broken forever. She could no longer call anything in the world hers, for Susanna would take the child away with her. I did not want to hear or see any longer. I took my shawl and went into the garden.
"The first yellow leaf lay on the ground, a fine mist hung in the trees, and the sun was going down crimson. I walked down the path to the little fish-pond. I saw the decaying boat lying in the clear brown water, and the reflection of the oaks. Then I suddenly stopped. I had recognized Edwin Stürmer's voice. They must be standing close by me, behind the thicket of barberry and snow-berry bushes.
"'No, no, I shall not let you again!' he said, strangely moved. I turned to go. It seemed to me I must cry out from pain and indignation.
"I walked back quickly. I know not what impelled me to go first to the child's bed, as if I must look in that little innocent face to still believe in love and fidelity in the world. The little man was asleep, the curtains were drawn, and the night-lamp already lighted. The door leading to Susanna's room was just ajar. All at once I started up, for the sound of Isa's voice came in to me and made my heart almost stop beating.