n.

"'In Dambitz,' I returned, oppressed; but she did not look at all
surprised. She only begged me to stay with Susanna till she had changed
her dress, and sent a messenger to the old woman. Then she came back, so
as not to stay long away from Susanna's bed, for, strangely enough,
Mademoiselle Isa Pfannenschmidt did not appear.

"Anna Maria had sent Brockelmann in a carriage to fetch the old woman.
Meanwhile Susanna pushed Anna Maria away with her weak hands, and called
'Isa!' incessantly in her delirium. With a white face Anna Maria pushed
her chair behind the curtains and listened to the low, eager whispering
of the sick girl. But once the surging blood shot from neck to brow, as
Susanna spoke of Klaus, and Anna Maria turned her eyes almost
reproachfully toward the door, behind which a light step had just
stopped.

"That was surely Klaus again; certainly twenty times during the day he
came to the door to listen; yet who could have closed the little red
mouth which had just called his name again, quite aloud, and laughed,
and talked of bonbons, of moonlight, and of songs?

"On the way to my room I met Brockelmann, who had just returned, and was
standing in the corridor by Klaus. Her face was very red; she pointed to
my room, and here began to describe, in a voice half-choked with
indignation, all that she had found in the dwelling of the old comedian,
excepting herself. The blacksmith's wife had told her she had lately
boiled some red pomade, and put it in a number of little porcelain jars,
and taken them away to sell. She would often go away so, and be gone a
fortnight. 'She is an old vagabond,' added Brockelmann, 'a beggar-woman
whom the constable ought to shut up in the nearest tower!' And with a
contemptuous air she drew forth one of the little boxes in question,
which was correctly tied up with gold paper, and bore a label which
explained at length the red pomade and its value: '_Rouge de Theatre,
premiere qualite!_'

"'Paint!' said I, smiling.

"'And for these sinful wares she gets a pile of money,' continued the
old woman, 'and what does she do with it? She eats cakes and chocolate,
and the children at the forge run about with gay silk ribbons on their
rough pig-tails; and all around in the corners there were heaps of
knick-knacks, enough for ten fools to trim up their caps with. It is a
shame!'

"'When is she coming back?' asked Klaus.

"'The Lord only knows; she went away yesterday.' Brockelmann tur