"She will be sunstruck," observed Frau von Treumann.
"I think she will," agreed the baroness.
Neither of them moved.
Anna stooped down, and tried to look into the room, but could see nothing. She knocked again; waited a moment; and then went away.
The two ladies embroidered in silence.
"Absurd old maid," Frau von Treumann thought, glancing at the baroness.
"As though a married woman of my age and standing could get up and open windows when she is in the room."
"Ridiculous old Treumann," thought the baroness, outwardly engrossed by her work. "What does she think, I wonder? I shall teach her that I am as good as herself, and am not here to open windows any more than she is."
"Why, you _are_ here," said Anna, surprised, coming in at the door.
"Where have you been all the morning?" inquired Frau von Treumann amiably. "We hardly ever see you, dear Anna. I hope you have come now to sit with us a little while. Come, sit next to me, and let us have a nice chat."
She made room for her on the sofa.
"Where is Emilie?" Anna asked; Emilie was Fraulein Kuhrauber, and Anna was the only person in the house who called her so.
"She came in some time ago, but went away at once. She does not, I fear, feel at ease with us."
"That is exactly what I want to talk about," said Anna.
"Is it? Why, how strange. Last night, while we were waiting for you, the baroness and I had a serious conversation about Fraulein Kuhrauber, and we decided to tell you what conclusions we came to on the first opportunity."
"Certainly," said the baroness.
"It is surprising that Princess Ludwig should not have opened your eyes."
"It is truly surprising," said the baroness.
"But they are open. And they have seen that you are not very--not quite--well, not _very_ kind to poor Emilie. Don't you like her?"
"My dear Anna, we have found it quite impossible to like Fraulein Kuhrauber."
"Or even endure her," amended the baroness.
"And yet I never saw a kinder, more absolutely amiable creature," said Anna.
"You are deceived in her," said Frau von Treumann.
"We have found out that she is here under false pretences," said the baroness.
"Which," said Frau von Treumann, unable to forbear glancing at the baroness, "is a very dreadful thing."
"Certainly," agreed the baroness.
Anna looked from one to the other. "Well?" she said, as they did not go on. Then the thought of her peace-making errand came into her mind, and her certainty that she only needed to talk quietly to these two in order to convince. "What do you think I came in to say to you?" she said, with a low laugh in which there was no mirth. "I was going to propose that you should both begin now to love Emilie. You have made her cry so often--I have seen her coming out of this room so often with red eyes--that I was sure you must be tired of that now, and would like to begin to live happily with her, loving her for all that is so good in her, and not minding the rest."
"My dear Anna," said Frau von Treumann testily, "it is out of the question that ladies of birth and breeding should tolerate her."
"Certainly it is," emphatically agreed the baroness.
"And why? Isn't she a woman like ourselves? Wasn't she poor and miserable too? And won't she go to heaven by and by, just as we, I hope, shall?"
They thought this profane.
"We shall all, I trust, meet in heaven," said Frau von Treumann gently.
Then she went on, clearing her throat, "But meanwhile we think it our duty to ask you if you know what her father was."
"He was a man of letters," said Anna, remembering the very words of Fraulein Kuhrauber's reply to her inquiries.
"Exactly. But of what letters?"
"She tried to give us that same answer," said the baroness.
"Of what letters?" repeated Anna, looking puzzled.
"He carried all the letters he ever had in a bag," said Frau von Treumann.
"In a bag?"
"In a word, dear child, he was a postman, and she has told you untruths."
There was a silence. Anna pushed at a neighbouring footstool with the toe of her shoe. "It is not pretty," she said after a while, her eyes on the footstool, "to tell untruths."
"Certainly it is not," agreed the baroness.
"Especially in this case," said Frau von Treumann.
"Yes, especially in this case," said Anna, looking up.
"We thought you could not know the truth, and felt certain you would be shocked. Now you will understand how impossible it is for ladies of family to a.s.sociate with such a person, and we are sure that you will not ask us to do so, but will send her away."
"No," said Anna, in a low voice.
"No what, dear child?" inquired Frau von Treumann sweetly.
"I cannot send her away."
"You cannot send her away?" they cried together. Both let their work drop into their laps, and both stared blankly at Anna, who looked at the footstool.
"Have you made a lifelong contract with her?" asked Frau von Treumann, with great heat, no such contract having been made in her own case.
"I did not quite say what I mean," said Anna, looking up again. "I do not mean that I cannot really send her away, for of course I can if I choose. Exactly what I mean is that I will not."