A Sister's Love Part 22

"'Herr von Sturmer has engaged a woman to nurse her,' she informed me, 'who probably understands it better than I.'

"'And you were on the point of returning to Butze, were you not?' I asked, severely.

"Susanna bent down her crimson face, and uttered a low 'Yes!' She had understood me.

"'_Allons donc_, my child, we will not delay.' I rose and went forward; slowly she followed me, with a decided expression of ill-humor. At the front steps of the castle we met Sturmer, a look of happy surprise still on his face.

"'Oh, dear Aunt Rosamond, you will breakfast with me!' he begged, giving me his well arm to escort me up the steps. 'Such a rare occasion!' And he gave me a look so winning, so truly delighted that it would have been more than uncivil to refuse. And the personality of my old favorite exercised such a charm over me that, smiling, I let myself be dragged away.

"Susanna flew past us up the steps; her lace-trimmed skirts stood out as she ran, fluttering about her light feet; the rose fell out of her hair and dropped in front of Sturmer. He picked it up, and held it absently in his hand. Susanna disappeared behind the gla.s.s door of the vestibule; Sturmer's eyes, which had followed her, now looked at me again, and our eyes met and remained for a moment fixed on each other, as if each would read the other's thoughts. Then he silently led me through the rooms of his house.

"How often had I been here before! I had always liked to think of the comfortable great rooms, which, with their oak wainscoting and huge tiled stoves projecting far out from the walls, presented such an attractive appearance to the half-frozen guests who had come in sleighs from Butze. It had always been a dream of mine to see Anna Maria ruling here some day, but the picture was erased from my mind when I entered the first room.

"Where were they, the comfortable rooms, the dark oak wainscoting, the old tiled stoves? Gilding and colored mosaics shone, with a foreign air, on the walls; odd draperies concealed doors and windows; low, dark-red couches in place of the sofas; fragile little bronze tables, and vases; everywhere mirrors reaching to the floor; groups of exotic flowers in the corners; a Smyrna rug on the floor, in which the foot sank deep.

Astonished, I stood still on the threshold.

"'_Mon Dieu_, Edwin, have you fallen among the Turks?'

"'It is my furnis.h.i.+ng from Stamboul, that I brought home with me,' he replied, simply. 'But, alas! I could not charm hither the view. Imagine that wall gone, Fraulein Rosamond, and in its place slender marble pillars, forming a covered walk, and then imagine yourself looking out between them on the blue sea; see the sweet pines, swaying in the fresh sea-breeze; yonder a cypress-wood, and on the waving billows a hundred white sails; and imagine a child of that South, slender as a gazelle, leaning on the bal.u.s.trade, a pair of sparkling dark eyes s.h.i.+ning through a white veil--then you have what I saw daily in those beautiful days.'

"How did it happen? In the midst of this imaginary picture which he had just drawn for me I saw Anna Maria standing, in her dark dress, her basket of keys on her arm, and saw her great clear eyes wander in astonishment over this splendor. I smiled involuntarily; I could never imagine Anna Maria resting, in sweet indolence, on those cus.h.i.+ons. I had to laugh at this idea, but it was a bitter laugh, and pained me.

"I followed him through several rooms; everywhere luxury, foreign furnis.h.i.+ngs; but at least the chairs were sensible. Everywhere a perfume of roses, costly rugs, a profusion of foreign draperies. In a one-windowed room was a little table spread for three persons, s.h.i.+ning with gla.s.s and silver. Edwin escorted me to the seat of honor. 'Your little protegee will appear directly,' he said gayly. And kissing my hand, he a.s.sured me again how happy he was to have me here at last. 'I really do not know why you have not visited my solitary abode long before,' he said, jokingly.

"'Why have you never told me, Edwin, that you have so many treasures from the "Thousand and One Nights" here?' I returned.

"'I do not like to seem boastful,' he said, offering me a mayonnaise, which I declined, taking some cold fowl. 'My acquaintances have looked at the things _en pa.s.sant_, and Klaus has been here often. I really supposed you were not interested in such things at Butze.'

"Indeed, Klaus had told us nothing about all this; at the most had mentioned the costly furnis.h.i.+ngs and various rare articles from foreign countries; he had himself no fancy for curiosities of that sort. Just then Edwin Sturmer rose. I thought I saw a faint smile on his lips, which vexed me, I know not why. But it vanished again at once, and gave way to a different expression. He opened the door and let Susanna in; he had probably heard her step. She sat down opposite him at the richly appointed table; above her dark head waved the fan-shaped leaf of a great palm, and white blossoms crowded against the back of her chair; from a group of southern plants in another corner rose the Venus de Milo in purest marble.

"And yet this sumptuous little room seemed but to form the frame for Susanna's own peculiar beauty. She looked sad; she ate nothing, and only now and then lifted her slender cup to moisten her lips; she did not speak, either, and when she raised her lashes tears shone in the dark eyes. Sturmer was also quieter; he spoke of the fire at last, and told me that work was to be begun on the new buildings to-morrow.

"I delivered Anna Maria's little parcel to him; he grew red for a moment, but did not thank me with the warmth I had expected.

"'And now,' said I, rising, after the dessert, 'I will relieve you of a burden; I will drive Isabella and Susanna home. In a bachelor's establishment such patients must be more than a disturbance. Susanna, have the kindness to conduct me to Isa.'

"Susanna's eyes sought Sturmer, but he turned away. 'I fear the old woman is not yet able to be moved,' he said, politely. 'Besides, she is no burden to me. She cannot, to be sure, find such a nurse as at Butze; we have to depend upon hired persons.' He offered me his arm and led me along the hall to a door which Susanna, running ahead, opened, and then he withdrew.

"Isabella lay in a beautiful large room, in a fine bed with white hangings; evidently a guest chamber. It looked out on the garden, and great linden-trees shaded the windows from the sun's rays. That Isabella and Susanna both slept here was evident. There was a second bed, still unmade, the pillows tumbled over each other; and Susanna's whole stock of knick-knacks and trumpery lay, just as it had been brought hither from the burning house, with the dress, cooking utensils, and salve-boxes of the other, tumbled together on the floor. An old woman in a neat dress and white cap stood among them, trying to restore order. She was probably the nurse of whom Susanna had spoken.

"I went straight up to Isa's bed. 'Mademoiselle Pfannenschmidt, are you well enough to drive to Butze with Susanna and me?' I asked.

"'No!' she replied, looking at me very angrily.

"'Well, then, come after us as soon as you are well enough,' said I, coldly; 'are you ready, Susanna?'

"'Susanna stays with _me_!' she declared, her voice trembling with anger.

"'She is going with me,' I replied, quietly; 'spare yourself all further pains. I shall not leave Susanna in the house of an unmarried man; according to _our_ views, it is improper.'

"'Under my charge?' shrieked Isabella, sitting up in bed with a jerk; 'under my charge?'

"I shrugged my shoulders in silence, and turned to Susanna; she stood motionless, and looked at Isa.

"'Will you take away the girl a second time?' cried Isa, wringing her thin hands. 'You will not even let me have the child on my death-bed?

Susanna, my darling, stay with me!'

"'You are far from dying, my dear,' said I, in a clear voice. 'Have the kindness to submit quietly to my arrangements; they are for Susanna's good.' She was silent, and looked on, as I put a shawl over Susanna's shoulders, pulled out her straw hat from under a heap of clothing, and put it on her head.

"'I shall ask Baron Sturmer to have you driven to Butze as soon as you are at all well enough,' said I, turning to Isa again; 'till then I know you will be well cared for. Farewell.' Without further ado, I pushed Susanna toward the door, and heard once more the shrill cry: 'Susanna, Susanna, stay here!'

"She stopped, and looked at me as if she meant to defy me and run back.

"'_En avant!_ my child,' said I, energetically; 'you have been away from Butze too long already; I shall never forgive myself for having let you go at all.' She was pale, and I saw her clench her little hands; but she followed me.

"Sturmer was waiting for us at the carriage, which was standing before the front steps. He was holding the spray of roses which Susanna had left lying in the garden in the morning, and handed it to her with a bow which, in my opinion, was lower than was really necessary. I could not see the look he gave her with it, for his back was turned to me, but I saw a crimson glow mount to Susanna's cheeks and a bright look flash over to him from under her long lashes, which alarmed me. I scarcely heard Sturmer commission me with greetings for Anna Maria, adding that he would bring his thanks himself for the money. I drew down my veil and motioned to the coachman to start, and we rattled across the court and out on the highway. Susanna's head was turned around, and her eyes sped over the rows of windows of the stately house; two s.h.i.+ning drops escaped from them and fell on the roses.

"How it came about I know not, but all at once I had seized her firmly by the arm. 'There before you lies Butze, Susanna Mattoni!' I cried, sternly. She started, and gave a little cry; her face had grown pale, but her eyes sparkled in rebellion.

"'You punish me like a naughty child!' she cried, her lips quivering.

'What wrong have I done? I followed you without opposition.'

"'Ask your own heart, Susanna,' I returned, gravely. She blushed, and then began to cry bitterly, incessantly.

"'Isa! Isa!' she sobbed.

"'Are you really crying about Isa?' I asked, gently now, and took her hand. 'I do not believe it, Susanna; you have some other grief. Only place confidence in me. _Could_ I not help you, if you were frank?'

"She pushed away my hand. 'No, never, never!' she burst out, violently.

"'But if I only knew what is the matter with you, Susanna, I might, with a word----'

"She stopped crying, and a defiant expression came over her face. 'I really want no sympathy,' she said, with a gesture of inimitable pride.

'There is nothing the matter with me; am I not to be allowed to cry when the person who watched over my childhood lies ill and alone in a strange house?'

"I was silent; I thought where I had found her to-day--not indeed at the sick-bed! And she understood my silence better than my words, for she dropped her eyes in embarra.s.sment, and remained quiet during the whole drive. Ah, and it was such a sunny day! I followed a lark with my eyes, as it joyously and on trembling wings rose high in the blue sky, till it looked like a mere dot. A herd of deer ran away over the stubble as we drove quickly past; in the meadows over yonder the peasant's cows were feeding; far in the distance earth and sky blended in a blue haze; and now the roofs of Butze emerged, peaceful and sunny, from the dark foliage of the oaks and elms--the dear old father-house! To me it seemed all at once as if I were coming home from a long journey from distant lands.

"Anna Maria was standing in the door-way, with ap.r.o.n and bunch of keys, as ever. She had a few beautiful white asters in her hand, and as Susanna came up the steps she said, drawing the girl to her: 'Thank G.o.d, Susanna, that you have returned unharmed; it was a bad night!' And she shyly put the flowers in the girl's little hand, beside the bunch of roses. One could see that she was really pleased. 'How is Isa doing?'

she asked, 'and how is Sturmer's arm?' She turned to me when she saw that Susanna had been crying, and on my reply that the condition of both was hopeful, she turned again to Susanna.

"'Do not cry,' and a lovely expression beautified her serious young face; 'as soon as Isa can drive she is coming, and you will nurse each other quite well again.'

"Anna Maria seemed transformed; there was a tenderness in her actions, in her voice, which only the consciousness of a great happiness, an endless grat.i.tude for something undeserved, can give. This tone cut my heart like a hundred knives.

"Susanna begged to be excused from the dinner-table, on the plea of a headache, and she did not come down to the garden-parlor during the afternoon; she was sulky. Anna Maria had taken up her sewing, and sat opposite me in the window-recess; it was quiet and cosey in the comfortable room, so peaceful--and yet the threatening storm was drawing near with great haste, to drive away our peace for a long time.

"'I would like to know if Klaus would miss me if I--were suddenly no longer here; if I should die, for instance, aunt?' asked Anna Maria all at once, quite abruptly. Then she quickly laid her hand on my arm: 'No, I beg you,' said she, preventing my answer; 'I know of course he would miss me, miss me very much!'

"After we had sat silent together for a little while the coachman entered with the mail-bag, which he handed to Anna Maria. She felt in her pocket for the key, opened the bag, and drew out letters and newspapers.