They were to each other so dear.”
Full of joy she had begun the day, and now she wished herself dead. “Here, behind this hedge,” she said, “to fall asleep and wake no more. Oh, how delightful that would be. There is no more joy for me on earth. Why strive to obtain it? How the crickets chirp in the grass, while a warm perfume arises from it. The hedge-sparrows twitter continually as though they strove to bring out deeper, and fresher, and more musical warblings; as though they could not express or say what out of the whole heart they had to say. Far above sing the larks. Every bird sings for himself—none listen—no bird checks another, and yet, all——”
Never in her life before had she fallen asleep in the day-time—and now, to sleep in the bright morning! She had drawn her handkerchief over her eyes, but the sunbeams kissed her closed lips, that in sleep were pressed poutingly together, and the light red upon her chin grew deeper. She slept perhaps an hour, then starting, awoke. The horseman upon the white horse had ridden back, and the horse was pressing with both fore feet upon her breast.
It was only a dream. Amrie looked around as though she had suddenly fallen from heaven. She scarcely knew where she was, but the sound of the music quickly aroused all her faculties, and she went with new strength back to the village where increased gayety inspired every one. She had rested, and all was forgotten that had annoyed her in the morning. Now should partners come, she could dance till morning, without rest or weariness.
A fresh bloom, like that of a child, lay upon her cheeks, and every one looked astonished at her beauty. She went to the dancing-platform. The music sounded from an empty room. There were no dancers there, only the girls that had come to wait upon the guests, were twirling round with each other. Raven Zacky looked long at Amrie—then shook his head—he appeared not to know her. She met Dominic, the farmer from the Ridge, who that day was in his glory.
“Pardon me,” he said, “Does the maiden belong to the marriage-guests?”
“No, I am only a maid, and came with the daughter of the house, Rose, from Rodel Farm.”
“Good. Go up then to the farm to my wife, and tell her that I sent you to help her. They cannot have too many hands to-day.”
“As you please, willingly,” said Amrie, and went immediately. On the way she could not help thinking that Dominic had once been a servant—and now— But such a thing does not happen once in a hundred years. It cost much blood also, to elevate him to this rank.
Amelia welcomed the newly-arrived help, and drawing off Amrie’s gay spencer, she gave her a great apron with a breast cover. She must refresh herself with food before she began work. Amrie consented, and with the first word, won the good will of Amelia. “I am hungry,” she said, “and I will not give you trouble to press me to eat.”