egewitz had chosen herself in Berlin; that the crimson silk drapery for
the salon cost ten _thaler_ a yard, and that the Smyrna rug in there was
real. Tears came into my eyes. What had become of our dear old,
comfortable sitting-room? What had we ever known of salons and boudoirs
at Buetze?

"As in passing through the garden-parlor one day Anna Maria's feet sank
in a Persian rug, and she perceived the low divans which ran along the
sides of the room, and the gold-embroidered cushions; and as she caught
sight of a gleaming, gay mosaic floor on the terrace instead of the
honest stone flags over which her childish feet had so often tripped, on
which she had stood so many a time beside Klaus; and saw, instead of the
gray stone balustrade, a gilded railing, a slight tremble came upon her
lips, and a few great tear-drops ran down her cheeks, and she slowly
turned her back to the room. She always went to the garden through the
lower entry afterward.

"It was on a stormy evening in March that Anna Maria for the first time
broke her long, habitually sober silence. I had not seen her all day;
her door remained closed to my knocking. And yet I would have so gladly
said a few affectionate words to her--to-day was her birthday.

"In vain had Brockelmann made the huge pound-cake wreathed with the
first snow-drops, and in vain placed a couple of blooming hyacinths on
the breakfast-table. The door of Anna Maria's room had not been opened.
A letter addressed to me had come from Klaus, requesting me to give to
his sister the enclosed open letter. It was affectionately written,
begging that she would soften her heart, and requesting a few lines from
her hand. 'What sort of a home-coming will it be for Susanna and me,' he
wrote, 'if the unhappy misunderstanding is not forgotten? We are ready
to consider all as not having happened, if you will come to meet us in
the old love. Be friendly to Susanna, too. I can honestly confess to you
that I long to be at home, in our dear old house, regularly employed. A
life like this here is nothing to me; I always hated idleness. Susanna's
health, so far as temporary demands are made upon it, is satisfactory;
but for her, too, I wish, especially now, the quiet of the less exciting
life at home. Let me once more add to the heartiest wishes for your
welfare the desire that we may soon meet again in the old fraternal
love.' A dainty visiting-card, 'Susanna, Baroness von Hegewitz,' with a
lightly scribbled