h she had been used, things to the effect that she was now
to rest herself for ever and to be sure and not do anything except just
that which made her happiest.

It was very wonderful. It seemed much, much too good to be true. And the
delight that filled her as she sat eating excellent cakes, and the
discomfort she endured because of the stares of the other two women, and
the consciousness that she had never learned how to behave in the
society of persons with _von_ before their names, produced such mingled
feelings of ecstasy and fright in her bosom that it was quite natural
she should drop the sugar-tongs, and upset the cream-jug, and choke over
her coffee--all of which things she did, to Anna's distress, who
suffered with her in her agitation, while the eyes of the other two
watched each successive catastrophe with profoundest attention.

It was an uncomfortable half hour. "I am shy, and they are shy," Anna
said to herself, apologising as it were for the undoubted flatness that
prevailed. How could it be otherwise, she thought? Did she expect them
to gush? Heaven forbid. Yet it was an important crisis in their lives,
this passing for ever from neglect and loneliness to love, and she
wondered vaguely that the obviously paramount feeling should be interest
in the awkwardness of Fraeulein Kuhraeuber.

Her German faltered, and threatened to give out entirely. The inevitable
pause came, and they could hear the sparrows quarrelling in the golden
garden, and the creaking of a distant pump.

"How still it is," observed the baroness with a slight shiver.

"You have no farmyard near the house to make it more cheerful," said
Frau von Treumann. "My father's house had the garden at the back, and
the farmyard in the front, and one did not feel so cut off from
everything. There was always something going on in the yard--always life
and noises."

"Really?" said Anna; and again the pump and the sparrows became audible.

"The stillness is truly remarkable," observed the baroness again.

"_Ja, eben_," said Fraeulein Kuhraeuber.

"But it is beautiful, isn't it," said Anna, gazing out at the light on
the water. "It is so restful, so soothing. Look what a lovely sunset
there must be this evening. We can't see it from this side of the house,
but look at the colour of the grass and the water."

"_Ach_--you are a friend of nature," said Frau von Treumann, turning her
head for a brief moment towards the window, and then examining An