Maxa was filled with deep emotion. Here
she had spent the most beautiful days of her childhood in delicious games
with the unforgettable Leonore and the two young Barons. Everything was
as it had been then. The large stone table in the middle, the stone
benches on the walls and the niches with the old knights of Wallerstaetten
stood there as of yore.
When she went into the dining-hall, everything looked bare and empty.
The portraits of ancestors had been taken from the walls and the glinting
pewter plates and goblets were gone from the large oaken sideboard. Mrs.
Maxa shook her head.
Going up the stairs, she decided first of all to go to the Baron's rooms,
for she wondered what care he was receiving. Rigid with consternation,
she stopped under the doorway. What a room it was! Not the tiniest
picture was on the wall and not a single small rug lay on the uneven
boards. Nothing but an empty bedstead, an old wicker chair and a table
which had plainly been dragged there from the servants' quarters,
comprised the furniture. Mrs. Maxa looked again to make sure that it
was really the Baron's room. There was no doubt of it, it was the
balcony room in the tower. Where did the Baron sleep?
As the sight proved more than she could bear, she quickly sought the late
Baroness' chamber. Here, too, everything was empty and the red
plush-covered chairs and the sofa in the corner over which all the
pictures of the children used to hang were gone.
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