All during the service the children kept glancing across at Farmer Landfried’s wife, and when they came out they waited for her at the door; but the wealthy farmer’s wife was surrounded by so many people, all eagerly talking to her, that she was obliged to keep turning in a circle to answer first one and then another.  She had no opportunity to notice the wistful glances of the children and their continual nodding.  Dame Landfried had Rosie, Farmer Rodel’s youngest daughter, in her hand.  Rosie was a year older than Amrei, who involuntarily kept moving her hand, as though she would have pushed aside the intruder who was taking her place.  Had the well-to-do farmer’s wife eyes for Amrei only out by the last house, and when they were alone, and did she not know her when other people were present?  Are only the children of rich people noticed then, and the children of relatives?

Amrei was startled when she suddenly heard this thought, which had begun to stir gently within her, uttered aloud; it was Damie who uttered it.  And while she followed at a distance the large group of people surrounding the farmer’s wife, she strove to drive the bad thought out of her brother’s mind, as well as out of her own.  Dame Landfried at last disappeared into Farmer Rodel’s house, and the children quietly turned back.

Suddenly Damie said: 

“If she comes to you, you must tell her to go to Crappy Zachy too, and tell him to be good to me.”

Amrei nodded; and then the children parted, and went to the separate houses where they had found shelter.

The clouds, which had lifted in the morning, came back in the afternoon in the shape of a perfect downpour of rain.  Dame Landfried’s large red umbrella was seen here and there around the village, almost hiding the figure beneath it.  Black Marianne had not been able to find her, and she said on her return home: 

“She can come to me—­I don’t want anything of her.”

The two children wandered out to their parents’ house again and crouched down on the door-step, hardly speaking a word.  Again the suspicion seemed to dawn upon them, that after all their parents would not come back.  Then Damie tried to count the drops of rain that fell from the eaves; but they came down too quickly for him, and he made easy work of it by crying out all at once:  “A thousand million!”

“She must come past here when she goes home,” said Amrei, “and then we’ll call out to her.  Mind that you help me call, too, and then we’ll have another talk with her.”

So said Amrei; for the children were still waiting there for Dame Landfried.

The cracking of a whip sounded in the village.  There was a trampling and splashing of horses’ feet in the slushy street, and a carriage came rolling along.

“You shall see that it’s father and mother coming in a coach to fetch us,” cried Damie.

Amrei looked around at her brother mournfully, and said: