Never in her life had Amrei fallen asleep in broad daylight, or if ever, not in the morning.  She had now drawn her handkerchief over her eyes, and the sunbeams were kissing her closed lips, which, even in sleep, were pressed together defiantly, and the redness of her chin had become deeper.  She had slept about an hour, when she awoke with a start.  The smart-looking young man on the white horse was riding toward her, and the horse had just lifted up his fore feet to bring them down on her chest.  It was only a dream, and Amrei gazed around her as if she had fallen from the sky.  She saw with astonishment where she was, and looked at herself in wonder.  But the sound of music from the village soon aroused the spirit of life within her, and with new strength she walked back and found that everything had become more lively.  She noticed that she felt more rested after the many things that she had experienced that day.  And now let only the dancing begin!  She would dance until the next morning, and never rest, and never get tired!

The fresh glow following the sleep of childhood was on her face, and everybody looked at her in astonishment.  She went to the dancing-room; the music was playing, but in an empty room—­for no dancers had come yet.  Only the girls who had been hired to wait upon the guests were dancing with one another.  Crappy Zachy looked at Barefoot for a longtime, and then shook his head; evidently he did not know her.  Amrei crept along close to the wall, and so out of the room again.  She ran across Farmer Dominic, whose face was radiant with joy today.

“Beg pardon,” said he; “does the mistress belong to the wedding guests?”

“No, I am only a maid.  I came with Farmer Rodel’s daughter, Rose.”

“Good!  Then go out to the kitchen and tell the mistress that I sent you, and that you are to help her.  We can’t have hands enough in my house today.”

“Because it’s you I’ll gladly go,” said Amrei, and she set out at once.  On the way she thought how Dominic himself had once been a servant, and—­“Yes, such things happen only once in a century.  It cost him many a pang before he came to the farm—­and that’s a pity.”

Ameile, Dominic’s wife, gave a friendly welcome to the new comer, who offered her services and at the same time took off her jacket, asking if she might borrow a large apron with a bib on it.  But the farmer’s wife insisted that Amrei should satisfy her own hunger and thirst before she set about serving others.  Amrei consented without much ceremony, and won Ameile’s heart by the first words she spoke; for she said: 

“I will fall to at once, for I must confess that I am hungry, and I don’t want to put you to the trouble of having to urge me.”

Amrei now remained in the kitchen and handed the dishes to the waitresses in such a knowing way, and managed and arranged everything so well, that the mistress said: 

“You two Amreis, you and my brother’s daughter, can manage all this, and I will stay with the guests.”