"'Ah, _pardon_!' he replied at once. 'Old my aunt certainly is not yet; on that ground I might leave you; but I--may I beg the honor?' he asked, offering me his arm.
"Anna Maria walked ahead; there was something majestic in her walk, and as she stepped from the garden through the gate of the church-yard, and, walking between the rows of graves, recognized the peasants with an inclination of her fair head, kindly stroking the flaxen heads of the children, and here and there saying a friendly word to an old man or woman, all eyes followed her with reverence and admiration, while Klaus received more trusting looks, and even cheers. When in our pew in the church, she bent her head low and prayed long, and then cast a shy look toward the opposite gallery, the place of the Dambitz gentry; Dambitz had always been in the parish of Bütze, and many a happy time have the Stürmers sat on that side and the Hegewitzes on this, and listened to the simple discourse of the clergyman and bowed the head in devout humility. Those were the good old times, when the nobility led the way before the people, with the motto: 'Fear God and honor the king!'
"All at once a thrill went through Anna Maria's body, but her face looked coldly over to the Stürmer gallery; she bent her head slightly and returned a greeting. There he was standing bodily, my old favorite, and I almost nodded my head off at him and made secret signs with my handkerchief. His dark eyes sent a happy greeting across to me--Edwin Stürmer was really there.
"The clear voice with which Anna Maria joined in the singing drew my looks to her again. She sang quietly with the congregation, but a crimson flush of deep agitation lay on her face; it was evidently excessively painful to her to see him again.
"What the sermon was about on that day I cannot tell, for before the clergyman ascended the pulpit something occurred which nearly put an end to the devotions of all the small congregation and obliged me to leave the church.
"I had fixed my eyes steadily on Stürmer, as if I could not look my fill at the man's handsome curly head; and the good God surely forgave me, for I was as fond of Edwin as if he were my own child. All at once, during the singing, I saw him start and look intently across to me; and, following the direction of his gaze, I observed--Susanna. She had on a white muslin dress, her neck and arms lightly covered by the misty material; she held her hat in her hand, her black hair clustered in rich curls about her small head; a white rose was placed carelessly in her hair, and a bunch of the same flowers rose and fell on her bosom, and as white as they was her sweet face as she raised it again after a short prayer.