oft arms about her neck.

The heart of the old lady beat faster; it was the first time in her life
that Anna Maria had showed any tenderness toward her. She sat quite
still, as in a dream, as if the slightest movement might frighten the
girl away, like a timid bird. And "Aunt Rosamond!" came the half-sobbing
sound in her ear. "Oh, aunt, help me--advise me--for Klaus----"

Just then the door was quickly thrown open. "The master sends word for
the Fraeulein to come down-stairs at once," called Brockelmann, quite out
of breath. "He can't find Isaac Aron's receipts for the last delivery of
grain, and----"

"I am coming! I am coming!" called the girl. She had sprung up, and
quickly thrown the skirt of her riding-habit over her arm. The spell was
broken; there stood Anna Maria von Hegewitz again, the mistress of
Buetze, as firm, as full of business as ever.

She crossed the room with quick steps, but turning again at the door,
she said softly, and embarrassed, "I will come up again this evening,
aunt." Then she closed the door behind her.

Aunt Rosamond remained as still as a mouse in her sofa-corner; she had
to reflect whether this blushing, caressing girl who had just been
sitting beside her were really Anna Maria von Hegewitz, her niece. She
passed her hand over her forehead, and confused thoughts passed through
her mind. "_Quelle metamorphose!_" she whispered to herself, and at
length said aloud, "Anna Maria is certainly in love; love only makes
one so gentle, so--_je ne sais quoi_! Anna Maria loves Stuermer! How
disagreeable that Brockelmann happened to come in with her grain bills!
_Mon Dieu!_ the child, the child! I wonder if Klaus suspects it? What is
to become of you, my splendid old boy, if Anna Maria goes away? But what
if he should marry, too?"

She rose from the sofa and stepped to the window again. It had stopped
raining, and a last lingering ray of sunshine broke from the clouds and
was spread, like a golden veil, over the wet, budding trees and shrubs.
"Spring is coming," she said half aloud. And now she began to walk up
and down the room, but this time the pictures were undisturbed. Her
hands were clasped, and now and then she shook her gray head gently, as
if incredulously.

CHAPTER IV.

Meanwhile Anna Maria had gone quickly down-stairs and entered her
brother's room. He was sitting at his desk, rummaging about in the
drawers for the missing papers. Klaus von Hegewitz was exactly like
other