In the adjoining room she
heard the tick-tock of the clock, and out of doors Rollo, who at
nightfall had left his place in the shed, as was his custom every
evening, and had stretched himself out on the large woven mat just
outside the bedroom door. The consciousness that he was near at hand
decreased Effi's feeling that she was forsaken. In fact, it almost put
her in a cheerful mood, and so she began, without further delay, to
read. On the page lying open before her there was something about the
"Hermitage," the well country-seat of the Margrave in the neighborhood
of Beireuth. It attracted her attention. Beireuth, Richard Wagner. So
she read: "Among the pictures in the 'Hermitage' let us mention one
more, which not because of its beauty, but because of its age and the
person it represents, may well claim our interest. It is a woman's
portrait, which has grown dark with age. The head is small, the face
has harsh, rather uncanny features, and she wears a ruff which seems
to support her head. Some think it is an old margravine from the end
of the 15th century, others are of the opinion that it is the Countess
of Orlamunde. All are agreed that it is the picture of the Lady who
since that time has achieved a certain notoriety in the history of the
Hohenzollern dynasty under the name of the 'Lady in white.'"
"That was a lucky accident!" said Effi, as she shoved the book aside.
"I seek to quiet my nerves, and the first thing I run into is the
story of the 'Lady in white,' of whom I have been afraid as long as I
can remember.
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