bride.'

"Anna Maria suddenly shook off his hand. 'I am to beg her pardon?' she
cried, raising herself to her full height, her eyes flaming--'I beg
Susanna Mattoni's pardon? Has Klaus gone mad, to think that I will
humble myself before that girl? Go, Herr Pastor, tell him he must come
himself to speak with me. I will fall at my brother's feet if I have
grieved him, but I will also tell him what drove me to push the girl
from me, and--go bring him before it is too late, or I----'

"'Anna Maria,' the old man broke in, raising his voice, 'cease from this
defiance! Judge not, that ye be not judged, says the Scripture! You have
no right to press yourself between these two; you have been prejudiced
against your brother's bride from the first moment, you have judged her
childish faults too harshly. Do you think by complaint to tear a man's
love from his heart? Foolish child! then you do not know what love is,
which forgives everything, overlooks everything. Stop, control yourself!
Anna Maria, you have an uncommonly strong will, a courageous heart; do
not wholly imbitter the solemn hour for your only brother; it lacks
already the consecration of a festal feeling. Your brother tells me he
means to go away this evening with his young wife. Come, my child,
follow your old teacher and pastor once more; come!'

"She drew back a few steps. 'Never!' said she, gently but firmly.

"'Anna Maria, not so, not so; bitter regrets may follow,' he said,
appeasingly.

"'Never!' she repeated. 'I cannot go against my conscience; I should be
ashamed to stand at the altar and listen to a lie! I had placed my
entire hope on speaking to Klaus, on begging him to leave her. He does
not wish to see me, or he would have come. I cannot do what he wishes;
believe me, I have my reasons. Farewell, Herr Pastor!'

"She turned and went to the window, and pressing her head against the
panes, looked out on the sinking darkness of the November evening. She
was apparently calm, and yet her whole body shook.

"Meanwhile a familiar step was heard outside, pacing up and down. I
stepped out. 'Klaus,' I begged, looking in his pale, excited face, 'why
this terrible haste?'

"'How am I to do it, then?' he cried, impatiently. 'I cannot stay here,
I am still needed in Silesia, so I must take Susanna away; what else can
be done? Do you think I will expose her to this treatment any longer? By
Heaven, aunt, when the girl's desperate letter came, it was fortunate
that