"Toward noon Anna Maria came to me, even paler than before. 'She talks incessantly of Klaus,' she said slowly. 'I knew that it must come, but Klaus did not understand me. She loves him, aunt, believe me.'
"My thoughts were so full of Klaus that I said, quite consistently: 'And he loves her!'
"Anna Maria did not understand me aright. 'What did you say, aunt?' she asked, the weariness all gone from her eyes.
"'I said Klaus is tenderly inclined toward Susanna Mattoni,' I repeated boldly.
"The girl broke into a smile—nay, she even laughed—and I saw her firm white teeth shine for the first time for many a day; then she grew grave. 'How can you joke now, aunt?'
"'Mais, mon ange, I am not joking,' I replied warmly. Anna Maria puzzled me; she must have noticed it for a long time; then why was she so opposed to the child?
"'You are not joking, aunt?' she asked icily. 'Then you little understand how to judge Klaus. Klaus, with his cool reason, his calm nature, he who might have had a wife any day if he had wished, should care for this child—it is ridiculous, perfectly ridiculous!'
"'But, Anna Maria, are you so blind?' I cried.
"'I am not blind,' she replied, with one of her glances which showed plainly her contempt of my opinion. 'Not till I see the two come, united, out of the church will I believe that Klaus loves her, and that, Aunt Rosamond, neither you nor I will live to see.'
"'Stop, Anna Maria!' I begged. 'It is, of course, possible that I am mistaken, but—God grant that you are right,' I added.