"And so I went, like a ghost, up the moonlit steps, and stole along the corridor to Susanna's door, and knocked softly. No answer. I lifted the latch and went in. The room was lighted only by the moon, and the heavy odor of flowers came toward me; a pale ray shone just over the white pillows of the bed and fell on Susanna's face. She was fast asleep; her neck and arms glistened like marble. Should I wake her? She would surely stifle in this air. I stole past her, opened a window, and set the bunches of flowers out on the balcony. The room looked topsy-turvy, but on the sofa was spread out with evident care the toilet for to-morrow—the white dress, little shoes and stockings, even hat and hymn-book for church.
"I closed the window again softly and stole out of the girl's room. Let her sleep; in this enchanted moonlight it would be impossible to say anything reasonable, I thought. Indeed, I reproached myself afterward for not having waked her from her dreams, in order to have brought all my old maid's prose to bear against all this flower-scented poetry. But what would it have availed? For God Almighty holds in his hands the threads of human destiny. It had to be thus."
CHAPTER VIII.
"The next morning broke as prosaic and calm as I could desire. The sun shone with obtrusive clearness into the most remote corner, and mercilessly set out everything in a dazzling light. From below, out-of-doors, I heard the sound of Anna Maria's voice, and caught something about 'string-beans for the servants' kitchen.' Klaus whistled out of the window, and immediately after I heard a dialogue concerning Waldemann (the Teckel), who was just limping across the court, having jammed his foot in the stable-door, according to the coachman's account. Klaus's voice, thank God, had not a suspicion of that weak intonation of last evening. Relieved, and smiling at my fears of yesterday, I got ready for church. If we can only get well over the first meeting with Stürmer, it may be quite a pleasant Sunday, I reasoned; I was wishing some visitor would come, that we might not be so much by ourselves.
"When our church-bell began to ring we three of the family were standing down-stairs in the sitting-room waiting for Susanna. Anna Maria looked weary and unnerved, and an old sort of expression lay about her mouth; she moved quickly and was plainly out of humor at Susanna's want of punctuality. The festal earnestness that usually pervaded her whole being in going to church was lacking to-day. 'Rieke!' she called to the housemaid, 'go to Fräulein Mattoni and ask if she will be ready soon; we are waiting for her.' The girl came back with the answer that the young lady had not quite finished her toilet, and begged the others to go on.
"'I will wait for her,' said Klaus quickly, right out of his kind, chivalrous heart, but it brought to my mind the voice of last evening.
"'You will let your old aunt limp to church alone, for the first time?' I asked jokingly.
"'Ah, pardon!' he replied at once. 'Old my aunt certainly is not yet; on that ground I might leave you; but I—may I beg the honor?' he asked, offering me his arm.
"Anna Maria walked ahead; there was something majestic in her walk, and as she stepped from the garden through the gate of the church-yard, and, walking between the rows of graves, recognized the peasants with an inclination of her fair head, kindly stroking the flaxen heads of the children, and here and there saying a friendly word to an old man or woman, all eyes followed her with reverence and admiration, while Klaus received more trusting looks, and even cheers. When in our pew in the church, she bent her head low and prayed long, and then cast a shy look toward the opposite gallery, the place of the Dambitz gentry; Dambitz had always been in the parish of Bütze, and many a happy time have the Stürmers sat on that side and the Hegewitzes on this, and listened to the simple discourse of the clergyman and bowed the head in devout humility. Those were the good old times, when the nobility led the way before the people, with the motto: 'Fear God and honor the king!'