"I wish I could dress you thus for your own wedding," said the farmer's
wife, who seemed to be overflowing with kindness today. "I should like
to see you mistress of a respectable farm, and you would not be a bad
bargain for any man; but nowadays such things don't happen, for money
runs after money. Well, do you be contented--so long as I live you shall
not want for anything; and if I die--and I don't know, but I seem to
fear the heavy hour so much this time--look, you will not forsake my
children, but will be a mother to them, will you not?"
"Oh, good heavens! How can you think of such a thing?" cried Barefoot,
and the tears ran down her cheeks. "That is a sin; for one may commit a
sin by letting thoughts enter one's mind that are not right."
"Yes, yes, you may be right," said the farmer's wife. "But wait--sit
still a moment; I will bring you my necklace and put it around your
neck."
"No, pray don't do that! I can wear nothing that is not my own; I should
sink to the ground for shame of myself."
"Yes, but you can't go as you are. Or have you, perhaps, something of
your own?"
Hereupon Barefoot said that she, to be sure, had a necklace which had
been presented to her as a child by Dame Landfried, but that on account
of Damie's emigration it was in pledge with the sexton's widow.
Barefoot was then told to sit still and to promise not to look at
herself in the glass until the farmer's wife returned; and the latter
hurried away to get the ornament, herself being surety for the money
lent upon it.
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