wearing a tight girdle during the week, but she answered that she felt freer without and Elška always told her she looked better without a corset. There is no person free of some form of vanity and even Bára was not exempt.
Great was Bára’s delight that Elška had come for a visit. She led her everywhere over the place, showing off her garden, the orchard, the field, and taking her out to the meadow to her father, who could not admire Elška enough, and wonder at how she had grown. In short they visited every spot where three years ago they had romped together. Then they sat down in the orchard. Bára brought a dish of cream in which black bread was crumbled, set it on the grass and with Elška ate it just as in former days. While they ate, Bára related things about her black cow, about Lišaj, and finally the conversation drifted to Josífek.
“Does Mrs. Vlček still dislike you?” asked Elška.
“Yes, indeed! When I’m around it is like salt in her eyes. When she knows nothing more slanderous to say of me she criticizes my eyes, saying that I look like a tadpole.”
“How wicked of her!” Elška exclaimed angrily.
“Yes, truly, for I have never injured her in any way. The other day, though, I got angry about it. I sent her a mirror so that she might first look at her own beauty before she found fault with others’ looks.”
“You did just the right thing,” laughed Elška. “But why does she hate you so?”
