Elška lifted her eyes to Bára’s, tried to smile, but at the same time burst into tears.
“If something weighs on you, confide in me. With me it will be as if buried in a grave,” said Bára.
Elška without a word laid her head on Bára’s shoulder, embraced her and then fell to weeping. Bára held her gently as a mother holds her babe, kissing her golden hair.
High above the heads of the girls the lark soared, singing, and above the summit of the green forests the sun was rising, pouring its golden glow over the emerald valley. Jacob came out in front of the cottage and the sound of the shepherd’s horn reminded the girls it was time to go home.
“Along the way we can tell each other,” said Bára, leading Elška by the hand from the bridge to the meadow path.
“But how did you guess it about me?” questioned Elška.
“Dear Lord, that’s easy to know. You are often absorbed in thought, sometimes you’re sad and then again your face fairly glows. As I watched you I knew at once that there was something ailing you. I guessed right.”
“Only, I hope Auntie hasn’t noticed anything and that she won’t question me,” said Elška anxiously. “She would be angry. He would not please her,” she finished.
“Does she know him?”
