rs after that in _deshabille_,
thinking over yesterday's experience; Klaus had gone, and when he
returned Susanna would be his wife--that was ever the sum of my
reflections.

"When I came down-stairs I found Anna Maria engaged in business
transactions with the bailiff and forester. How clearly she made her
arrangements! The men had not a word to reply. Offers had been made for
the grain; the harvest was richer than ever before, and the price of
grain low. Anna Maria did not wish to close the bargain yet; in Eastern
Prussia the grain had turned out wretchedly. 'Let us wait for the
potato-crop,' I heard her say. 'If that turns out as badly as seems
probable now, we shall need more bread, for our people must not suffer
want.'

"She proceeded with calmness and caution. Oh, yes. Klaus was right; his
house was in good care. As she followed me afterward into the
garden-parlor she pressed my hand.

"'Klaus's departure seems like a flight,' she said; 'but it must be all
right.'

"Not a word of yesterday's occurrences! Nor in the future either.
Susanna observed the same silence. When I went to her bed to inform her
that Klaus was gone on a journey, a bright flush of alarm tinged her
pale face for an instant, but she was silent.

"For some time yet she had to keep her bed; then her childish step was
heard again about the house, her slender figure nestled again in the
deep easy-chair in the garden-parlor, and she went about the park as of
old, idling away the days, and gradually signs of returning health
appeared in her cheeks.

"She evidently missed Klaus; it was most plainly to be seen in her
dress. She seemed astonishingly negligent; at a slight word of blame
from me, the question, 'For whom?' rose quickly to her lips, but she did
not speak it, and turned away her blushing face. Isabella Pfannenschmidt
came to the house a few days after Klaus's departure, while Susanna was
still in bed. I entered the room soon after her, and found the old woman
by the bed, a vexed expression on her face. My ear just caught the
words: 'Yes, now, there we have it: the egg will always be wiser than
the hen!'

"She was embarrassed at my entrance, but remained fierce and surly. I
purposely did not leave them alone, and toward evening she took her
leave, with a thousand fond words to Susanna, and a cold courtesy to me.
'All will yet be well, my sweet little dear; only wait!' she whispered
before she went."

CHAPTER XI.

"Life wen