The whole day long, Amrie did not offer her cup to a single passenger. She felt a secret timidity lest she should have another present.
When she came home in the evening, Mariann told her that Farmer Rodel had sent to say she was to go to him immediately. She hastened to his house. Rodel said, as she entered,
“What did you say to the Esquire Landfried?”
“I know no Squire Landfried.”
“He has been to-day on the Holder Green, and has made thee a present.”
“I did not know who it was, and there is his money.”
“That is nothing to me! Tell me instantly, honestly, and truly, did I persuade you to be goose-herd? If you do not give it up this very day, I am no longer your guardian. I will not be slandered!”
“I shall inform everybody that it is not your fault,” said Amrie; “but to give the service up, that I cannot. Till the summer is over I must remain in it. I must finish what I have engaged to do.”
The farmer’s wife, who lay sick in bed, cried out to her, “Thou art right. Remain only so, and I prophesy that you will do well. A hundred years hence they will say of one who is fortunate in this village, ‘This is like Brosis’ Severin and the Josenhans.’ Amrie, take courage! thy dry bread will yet fall into a honey cup!”
The sick woman was thought crack-brained; and, from fear of madness, Amrie, without answering, hastened away.