DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62134#0223
DEPARTURES.
215
But all must remain unseen, unenjoyed, till after the
departure of the Great Painter •— to desert the studio until
then could not be thought of.
But letters arrived for Anna, which suddenly put to
flight all these day-dreams.
Various of her beloved ones from the dear old home in
England were setting forth upon a long voyage; they
were setting forth to Australia for a season. When Anna
read these letters the words swam before her eyes; she
was like one in an astounding dream. She rejoiced with
a great joy that her beloved ones should visit this mar-
vellous Australia, should experience the poetry of a great
voyage and of a new land; but the Alps, the glories of
German Art, the beauty of her own and of Isabel’s calm life,
seemed to fade before her. An immense yearning after
the beloved departing ones filled her soul, and nothing but
setting forth immediately for England could satisfy her
or calm her.
Then came a strange time of adieus, and of packing up
clothes, books, and drawings in all haste. Then came the
last hour in the beloved old studio,—the last hour in the
dismantled sitting-room of the dear little home, with
Isabel declaring that when Anna was gone, and had
carried off her drawings and prints from the walls, all
would look so changed that she could not endure to
remain in the same house, although it was with the good
old Werffs. And at last came the final moment at the
railway, when Anna, seated in the corner of a carriage,
waved her hand to dear Isabel, as she stood beside Frau-
lein Sanchen, who was crying into her big white pocket-
handkerchief, and to various friends come to bid a last
adieu.
And then the steam-whistle shrieked through the air,
215
But all must remain unseen, unenjoyed, till after the
departure of the Great Painter •— to desert the studio until
then could not be thought of.
But letters arrived for Anna, which suddenly put to
flight all these day-dreams.
Various of her beloved ones from the dear old home in
England were setting forth upon a long voyage; they
were setting forth to Australia for a season. When Anna
read these letters the words swam before her eyes; she
was like one in an astounding dream. She rejoiced with
a great joy that her beloved ones should visit this mar-
vellous Australia, should experience the poetry of a great
voyage and of a new land; but the Alps, the glories of
German Art, the beauty of her own and of Isabel’s calm life,
seemed to fade before her. An immense yearning after
the beloved departing ones filled her soul, and nothing but
setting forth immediately for England could satisfy her
or calm her.
Then came a strange time of adieus, and of packing up
clothes, books, and drawings in all haste. Then came the
last hour in the beloved old studio,—the last hour in the
dismantled sitting-room of the dear little home, with
Isabel declaring that when Anna was gone, and had
carried off her drawings and prints from the walls, all
would look so changed that she could not endure to
remain in the same house, although it was with the good
old Werffs. And at last came the final moment at the
railway, when Anna, seated in the corner of a carriage,
waved her hand to dear Isabel, as she stood beside Frau-
lein Sanchen, who was crying into her big white pocket-
handkerchief, and to various friends come to bid a last
adieu.
And then the steam-whistle shrieked through the air,