Amrei of Siebenhofen, who was nicknamed the “Butter Countess,” and who was known far and wide as proud and stubborn, was very friendly with Barefoot.  Once, indeed, the mistress said to the latter: 

“It’s a pity that you are not a boy; I believe that Amrei would marry you on the spot, and not send you home, as she does all of her suitors.”

“I have a brother who’s still single—­but he’s in America,” replied Barefoot, laughing.

“Let him stay there,” said the Butter Countess; “it would be better if we could send all the men folk away and be here by ourselves.”

Amrei did not leave the kitchen until everything had been put back in its proper place; and when she took off her apron it was still as white and unruffled as when she had put it on.

“You’ll be tired and not able to dance,” said the farmer’s wife, when Amrei, with a present, finally took her leave.

“Why should I be tired?  This was only play; and, believe me, I feel much better for having done something today.  A whole day devoted to pleasure!  I shouldn’t know how to spend it, and I’ve no doubt that was why I felt so sad this morning—­I felt that something was missing.  But now I feel quite ready for a holiday—­quite out of harness.  Now I feel just like dancing, if I could only find partners.”

Ameile did not know how to show greater honor to Barefoot than by leading her about the house, as if she were a wealthy farmer’s wife, and showing her the large chest full of wedding presents in the bridal room.  She opened the tall, blue cabinets, which had the name and the date painted upon them, and which were crammed full of linen and all sorts of things, all tied up with ribbons of various colors and decorated with artificial flowers.  In the wardrobe there were at least thirty dresses, and nearby were the high beds, the cradle, the distaff with its beautiful spindles, and everywhere children’s clothes were hanging, presents from the bride’s former playmates.

“Oh, kind Heaven!” cried Barefoot; “how happy a child of such a house must be!”

“Are you envious?” said the farmer’s wife; and then remembering that she was showing all these things to a poor girl, she added:  “But believe me, fine clothes are not all; there are many happier who do not get as much as a stocking from their parents.”

“Yes, yes, I know that.  I am not envious of the beautiful things, but rather of the privilege that it gives your child to thank you and so many good people for the lovely things she has received from them.  Such clothes from one’s mother must keep one doubly warm.”

The farmer’s wife showed her fondness of Barefoot by accompanying the girl as far as the yard, as she would have done to a visitor who had eight horses in the stable.

There was already a great crowd of people assembled when Amrei arrived at the dancing-floor.  At first she stood timidly on the threshold.  In the empty courtyard, across which somebody hurried every now and then, a solitary gendarme was pacing up and down.  When he saw Amrei coming along with a radiant face, he approached her and said: