leaving Effi behind for at least a week. He
knew she liked nothing better than whiling away her time, care-free,
with sweet dreams, always hearing friendly words and assurances of her
loveliness. Indeed that was the thing which pleased her above
everything else, and here she enjoyed it again to the full and most
gratefully, even though diversions were utterly lacking. Visitors
seldom came, because after her marriage there was no real attraction,
at least for the young people. * * *

On her wedding anniversary, the 3d of October, Effi was to be back in
Berlin. On the evening before, under the pretext of desiring to pack
her things and prepare for the journey, she retired to her room
comparatively early. As a matter of fact, her only desire was to be
alone. Much as she liked to chat, there were times when she longed for
repose.

Her rooms were in the upper story on the side toward the garden. In
the smaller one Roswitha was sleeping with Annie and their door was
standing ajar. She herself walked to and fro in the larger one, which
she occupied. The lower casements of the windows were open and the
little white curtains were blown by the draft and slowly fell over the
back of the chair, till another puff of wind came and raised them
again. It was so light that she could read plainly the titles of the
pictures hanging in narrow gilt frames over the sofa: "The Storming of
Dueppel, Fort No. 5," and "King William and Count Bismarck on the
Heights of Lipa." Effi shook her head and smiled. "When I come back
again I am going to ask for different pictures; I don't like such
warlike sights." Then she closed one window and sat down by the other,
which she left open. How she enjoyed the whole scene! Almost behind
the church tower was the moon, which shed its light upon the grassy
plot with the sundial and the heliotrope beds. Everything was covered
with a silvery sheen. Beside the strips of shadow lay white strips of
light, as white as linen on the bleaching ground. Farther on stood the
tall rhubarb plants with their leaves an autumnal yellow, and she
thought of the day, only a little over two years before, when she had
played there with Hulda and the Jahnke girls. On that occasion, when
the visitor came she ascended the little stone steps by the bench and
an hour later was betrothed.

She arose, went toward the door, and listened. Roswitha was asleep and
Annie also.

Suddenly, as the child lay there before her, a throng of pict