It is the rider
who had met her that morning, and whom she had snubbed in such a pert
way. All eyes are fastened upon him as he comes forward, his right hand
behind him, and his left holding a silver-mounted pipe. His silver
watch-chain bobs up and down, and how beautiful is his black velvet
jacket, and his loose black velvet trousers, and his red waistcoat! But
more beautiful still is his round head with its curly, brown hair. His
brow is white as snow; but from the eyes down his face is sunburnt, and
a light, full beard covers his chin and cheeks.
"That's a bonny fellow," said one of the old women.
"And what heavenly blue eyes he has!" added another; "they are at once
so roguish and so kind."
"Where can he be from? He's not from this neighborhood," said a third.
And a fourth observed:
"I'll wager he's another suitor for Amrei."
Barefoot started. What did this mean? What was that she said? But she
soon found out the meaning of it, for the first old lady resumed:
"Then I'm sorry for him; for the Butter Countess makes fools of all the
men."
And so the Butter Countess's name was also Amrei.
The young stranger had passed through the room several times, turning
his eyes from one side to the other. Then he suddenly stopped not far
from Barefoot and beckoned to her. A hot flush overspread her face; she
stood riveted to the spot and did not move a muscle.
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