ed so much in all her life before, whispered the old
woman; 'something must have happened that cuts deep into her heart.'
"'I cannot confide it to you, Brockelmann,' I replied, 'but you will
know it soon.' I was sorry for the old woman; she was trembling in every
limb.
"'Oh, I can guess it already, Fraeulein,' she said; 'it would surprise me
above all things if it did not come from that quarter!' She pointed in
the direction of Susanna's room. 'One woman's head can ruin a whole
country!'
"The following day was a Sunday, and a Sunday stillness lay over the
house and court; even more than ordinarily, for the house down-stairs
was stiller than usual, as Anna Maria had not yet left her room.
"Sadly I got ready for church, and then went to Susanna's door to call
for her. As I looked in I saw her still lying in bed, still sleeping,
her limbs stretched out, like a tired kitten. On the whole, I was glad;
I would rather go alone to-day, with my heavy heart.
"The little church was unusually full on this Sunday, especially of
Dambitz people. A danger commonly encountered, a great misfortune,
brought them hither. They wanted, too, to hear what the clergyman had to
say about the calamity of the fire. So it happened that the little nave
was full to the last seat; only the seats of the gentry, above, were
empty.
"'What God does is well!' sang the congregation. I folded my hands over
my book, and tears fell on them. I spoke no words, but more warmly I
surely never prayed, for Klaus, for Anna Maria. God knows all the sad
thoughts that came to me. I had already fought in vain against one of
them the night before: 'What if Anna Maria were not to yield; if she
were, perhaps, to go out from the ancestral home, in defiance, in order
to live no longer with Susanna? Oh! it was possible, with her
temperament, and then what would become of them both?'
"Just then the door of the gallery moved, creaking slightly, and there,
on the threshold, stood--Anna Maria! Was it really she? Her face was
pale, with deep bluish shadows under the eyes; and beside her, even
paler, her great eyes directed toward me, as if seeking help,
stood--Susanna! Anna Maria held her hand and led her to the chair in
which the mistress of Buetze had always sat, and which, of late, had been
Anna Maria's seat.
"The girl sank into it, a crimson glow now on her cheeks, and bent her
head. Anna Maria sat behind her, and folded her hands. It had been done,
then; she
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