but Lišaj, who could not bear the sexton, invariably snarled at him.
Bára was wholly happy when she could be at the parsonage. In the rooms everything fairly glistened. There were beds piled with fine bedding to the very ceiling, many beautiful pictures, and inlaid cabinets. In the garden were many flowers, vegetables and fine fruit. In the yard was poultry of all kinds; in the stable, cattle which it was a pleasure to look at. The herdsman Jacob had the greatest delight in the cattle belonging to the parish. And in the servants’ hall, over the oven, what a quantity of toys! Elška never mixed up mud cakes nor played with brick dust and lime. She always had real cooking things and what was prepared was also eaten.
Why shouldn’t Bára have been happy in such a home? But to her, Elška herself was far dearer than anything else. Oftentimes it seemed to her that she loved Elška more than she did her own father. If Elška had lived even in the flax-house, Bára would, nevertheless, have loved to be with her. Elška never once laughed at Bára and when she had anything she always shared it with her. Often she would throw her arms around Bára’s neck and say, “Bára, I like you so very much.”
“She likes me so much, and yet she is so beautiful and belongs at the parsonage. All the people address her as ‘you’ and not ‘thou,’ even the schoolmaster and sexton. All others mock at me,” Bára repeated to
