Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1904-11-10

ones place. Klaus did not reply at
once, but looked at that place and
said at length: $50 it will always be,
/ sooni" And the old lady nodded
sadly; she knew not what to reply.
and secret anxiety about the future
stole over her, since she had seen
that Klaus still bore the old wound
which he had received many years
ago. She had supposed it healed long
/ since.
The next morning Anna Maria went
as usual, with her bunch of keys,
through kitchen and cellar. She was
pale, and her orders sounded shorter
and less friendly than they had of
late Only to Klaus she gave a
friendly smile, but it was forced. ana
her eyes had no share in it. She
looked over accounts with him for
two hours, and. though he was dis
tracted and restless, the results were
| perfectly correct. Aunt Rosamon1
alone was alarmed at the girls ap-
pearance, but she did not venture TO
ask any questions. Anna Maria was
as icily cold as often heretofore
The next day, toward evening.
Klaus came into Aunt Rosamond's
room. The old lady had just hung up
Felix Leonhards portrait again. after
carefully making fast the broken
/ cord.
Well, who was right, Aunt Rose?n
he asked. He was standing beside
her, and she saw that his face had
grown very red, and that his whole
being was stirred.
Right? | what, Klaus?"
In your assertion about Anna
Maria. She does not love him."
Did she say so? Oh, well, it
doesn't follow at all that a girl has
spoken the truth, if she says she does
not love a certain person. does not
! even like him. l have experienced
the contrary a hundred times: those
who talk so hide a warm affection
under cold words"
Not this time, Aunt Rose Ann,
Maria has definitely refused him."
The old lady sank, quite overcome.
into the nearest chair. klaus! Est-n
possible? Has he spoken already.
| them"
Not to her, but to me, aunt. He
came about five o'clock this after
noon; Anna Maria was sitting at the
window as he rode into the court and
she got up at once and went to her
room. Sturmer sent in word to me
that he wanted to speak to me alone;
and then-truly, Aunt Rose you do
know how to observe-then he said to
me that he loved Anna Maria. that he
thought his affection was reciprocatea.
and other things that people usually
say on such occasions; he spoke of
his age, and said that he would be
not only husband but father as
| well TO Anna Maria. | assured him
/ that | had the deepest respect for
him, which is quite true. and after
about an hour went to Anna Maria to
get her answer. Her door was open.
she was sitting at her little sewing
table by the window, looking out into
the garden; she held her New Tesla
ment in her hand, but laid it down
as | came near her. l thought she
mad been crying, and turned her face
around to me; but her eyes were dry
and burning. and her forehead fever
/ lshly hot. AS | began to speak sh,
| turned her head to the window again
and sat motionless as a statue.
must have asked her certainly three
times: Anna Maria, what shall 7 an
swer him? VIII you do it yourself!
Shall send him to YOU? No. MOI
she cried at length, don't send him,
cannot see him; tell him that HE
must not be angry with mel do not
love him! Klaus, cannot go away
from here! Let me stay with you,s
And then she sprang up. threw her
arms about my neck, and stuck to me
like a burr; but her whole frame
trembled, and l thought | could feef
her hot hands through my coat. After
much persuasion, and promising that
| would never force her, got her so
FAR as to sit down quietly at last: but
had to give the poor fellow his an
swer-and that was no trifiine
natter"
For Gods sake, Klaus, what did
| Sturmer say?''
Not one word, aunt; spared him
all l could, but he grew as white as
the plaster on the wall. At last he
asked: Can l speak to Anna Mar;a?'
| said, No. in accordance with her
wish; then he took up his hat and
whip, and babe me good-by as heartily
as usual, to be sure, but the hand he
gave me trembied. Poor fellow!
do pity him."
And Anna Mariao"
Il cannot find her, aunt, either in
the sittingroom or in her own room"
! At the farther end of the Hegewitz
/ garden stood an old, very old linden;
the spot was somewhat elevated, and
turfy slope stretched down to the
budding privethedge which bounded
the garden. Under the linden was a
sandstone bench, also old and weather
beaten, and from here one could look
away out on the Mark country, far