Barefoot found, the next morning, that her swollen cheek had vanished as though under a charm. Cheerful songs were heard all day through house and court, stall and shed. To-day something must be decided. To-day John must declare himself. Rodel would not allow his sister to be any longer the subject of remark, when, perhaps, nothing might result from it.
Indeed, the whole day, John sat in the house with Rose, who was sewing upon a man’s shirt. Towards evening the farmer’s father and mother-in-law and some other friends came in.
It must be decided!
In the kitchen the roast meat hissed, the pine wood snapped, and Barefoot’s cheeks burned with the fire from the hearth, fanned by the deeper heat of inward burning. Raven Zacky went up and down, in and out, as though full of business, and smoked Farmer Rodel’s pipe as though he had been at home.
“It is then all decided!” Barefoot said to herself sorrowfully.
It had become night again, and many lights were burning throughout the house. Rose, gayly dressed, went from parlor to kitchen, but did not prepare any thing. An old woman who had formerly been cook in the city, was hired to get ready the supper. All was now ready.
The young farmer’s wife said to Barefoot, “Now go up and put on your Sunday dress.”
“Why should I do so?”
“Because you must wait at table, and you will get a better present.”
“I had much rather remain in the kitchen.”