"It is nothing good that they have to tell her," grumbled Trude, as she hurried up the stairs which led from the first story into the little, low room in the attic, under the sloping roof. Here and there a few tiles could be lifted, which lighted the garret sufficiently to show the door at the end. "May I come in, my dear Fraulein? it is Trude.""The door is open," cried a sweet voice, and Trude entered. It is a most charming little room, just that of a young girl. The bed has a snow-white covering, and white curtains, suspended from a hook in the wall around it. The same curtains at the low gable-windows, whose depth, so to speak, made a light anteroom to the real gloomy one in the background. In this little anteroom the young girl had placed all that was necessary for her pleasure and use. There were the most beautiful, sweet-scented flowers upon the window-stool; in a pretty metal cage was a light-colored canary. There were also pretty engravings, and upon the table stood a vase filled with superb artificial flowers, and before it sat the possessor of this room, the daughter of General and Frau von Werrig, surrounded with her work-tools, paper, and colored materials--a young girl, scarcely twenty, of a proud, dignified appearance, but simply and gracefully dressed. According to the fashion of the day, her hair was slightly powdered, and raised high above her broad, clear brow with a blue rosette, and ends at the side. The nobly-formed and beautiful face was slightly flushed, and around the month was an expression of courageous energy. As old Trude entered, the young girl raised her eyes from the rose-bud which she was just finishing, and looked at her. What beautiful black eyes they were as they sparkled underneath the delicately-arched, black eyebrows!
"Now, old one," said she, kindly, "what do you wish? Did you forget that I wanted to work undisturbed to-day?""Didn't forget it, my Fraulein, but--"
"But you have forgotten that up here, in my attic-room, I am not your Fraulein, but your Marie, whom you have taken care of and watched over when a child, and whose best and truest friend you have been. Come, give me your hand, and tell me what you have to say."Old Trude shuffled hurriedly along in her leather slippers. Her old, homely face looked almost attractive, with its expression of glowing tenderness, as she regarded the beautiful, smiling face before her, and laid her hard brown hand in the little white one extended to her. "Marie," she said, softly and anxiously, "you must go down at once to your mother and father. They have something very important to tell you.""Something very important!" repeated Marie, laying aside her work.
"Do you know what it is?"
"Nothing good, I fear," sighed the old woman. "A soldier has been here from the war department and brought a letter for the general, and he told me that it was sent from the king's cabinet at Breslau.""Oh, Heaven! what does it mean?" cried Marie, frightened, and springing up. "Something is going to happen, I know. I have noticed certain expressions which escaped my father; the proud, threatening manner of my mother; but above all the bold importunity of that man, whom I despise as one detests vice, stupidity, and ennui. They will not believe that I hate him, that I rather--""Marie, are you not coming?" called the mother, with a commanding voice.
"I must obey," she said, drawing a long breath, and hastening to the door, followed by Trude, who pulled her back and held her fast upon the very first step. "You have forbidden me to speak of him, but Imust."
Marie stood as if rooted to the spot, her face flushed, and in breathless expectation looking back to old Trude.
"Speak, Trude," she softly murmured.
"Marie, I saw him to-day, an hour ago!"
"Where, Trude, where did you see him?"
"Over on the corner of Frederick Street, by the baker's. He stood waiting for me, as he knows I always go there. He had been there two hours, and feared that I was not coming.""What did he say? Quick! what did he say?""He said that he was coming to see you to-day at twelve o'clock;that he would rather die than live in this way.""To-day? and you have just told me of it!""I did not mean to say any thing at all about it; I thought it would be better, and then you would not have to dissemble. But now, if any harm comes to you, you know he is coming, and will stand by you!""He will stand by me--yes, he will--"
"Marie!" cried her mother, and her dry, gaunt figure appeared at the foot of the stairs. Marie flew down to the sitting-room of her parents, following her mother, who took her place in the niche at the open window without speaking to her.