ehind the closed
door. The autumn evening drew on, night closed in, solemn and clear
shone the stars from the sky upon the earth beneath. 'What art thou,
child of man, with thy small trouble? Look up to us and fold thy hands,'
said they in their dumb language. And I clasped my hands. 'He who
created the stars to give us light by night will also lighten this
spot!' I whispered.
"Eleven o'clock struck as I knocked at Susanna's door. She did not
answer. I went softly into the room; a candle on the mantel, just on the
point of going out, threw its unsteady light on the girl. She was lying
on one side, her face turned toward the room, a smile on the red lips;
beside the bed Stuermer's spray of roses, carefully placed in water.
"It was a dismal morning that followed. Anna Maria remained in her room;
she did not answer our knocks, and there was no movement within.
Brockelmann's eyes were red with weeping; she shook her head, and went
about the house on tip-toe, as if there were a dead person in it. I was
in sheer despair, and limped from Anna Maria's door to my room, and back
again. The bailiffs came and inquired for her, and went away
astonished--she did not appear.
"About eight o'clock I went softly to Susanna's room. She had just
risen, and was arranging her hair. The windows were opened wide; through
the branches of the trees golden sunbeams slipped into the room and
played over the young creature who, trifling and smiling and fresh as a
rose, stood, in her white dressing-sack, before the mirror. She did not
hear me enter, for she went on trilling a little song half aloud; clear
as a bell the tones floated out on the clear morning air. Isa's
death-bed was forgotten; ah! and something else, probably.
"I closed the door again cautiously; I was never so anxious before in my
life.
"'Is Fraeulein Anna Maria ill?' asked Susanna, as she found only two
places set at dinner. She had come from the garden, and had a bunch of
white asters at her bosom, and her eyes shone with delight.
"'I think so,' said I, softly, and folded my hands for the grace.
Susanna showed a pitying face for a moment, and then began to chatter;
she was in a most agreeable mood.
"The day wore on. Anna Maria remained invisible. Brockelmann was quite
beside herself. 'She is crying, she is crying as if her heart would
break,' she said, coming into my room before going to bed.
"'She is crying? That is good!' said I, relieved.
"'She has never cri
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