whenever he visited that section of the estate, always stopped at the parish house.
Elška had not an inkling of the happiness her aunt was in spirit preparing for her, and through her head flitted altogether different plans than any idea of becoming the wife of the steward. She had not yet told these plans even to Bára. But Bára often beheld Elška lost in thought and downcast, and from this she judged that something was weighing on her heart. Still she said nothing, thinking to herself, “When the right time comes, she will tell me.”
Bára was not mistaken. Despite the fact that the neighbors tried to present Bára in an evil light to Elška and accused her of being unrestrained, still Elška believed in her more than in them all and cared for her in the same way as before. On the eve before St. John the Baptist’s day the girls met and Elška asked Bára, “Are you going to toss a wreath tomorrow?”
“Alone, I wouldn’t care to toss one, but if you wish to, come over before sunrise and we’ll go together.”
“I’ll come!”
In the morning before the sun came up Elška already stood in the herdsman’s orchard with Bára beside her. They were weaving white, blue and red blossoms on hoops made of willow twigs.
“Whom are you going to think of when you throw the wreath?” Elška asked of Bára.
“Dear Lord, I haven’t any one to think of!” sighed
