the girl. “I’ll cast the wreath at random to see if it floats after yours. I only wish that when you marry, Elška, I could go with you.”
Elška became silent as a blush overspread her cheeks. After a pause she said, extending her hand to Bára: “Here is my hand on it that we shall stay together; if you do not marry, I shall never marry,” she added with a deep sigh.
“What are you saying, Elška? Very few people love me, but everyone cares for you. You will be rich; I am poor. You are beautiful and I am homely. You are well educated and I am a simple, stupid girl—and I am to think of a husband, and you not?”
“Auntie has always told me that it all depends on taste. To one a carnation is most becoming, to another a rose, to a third a violet. Every flower finds its own admirer, each has its own kind of beauty. Do not underrate yourself nor overvalue me; we are equals. Aren’t you truly going to think of any of the boys, or haven’t you thought of any as yet?”
“No, no,” Bára shook her head, smilingly. “I don’t think of any of them, and when they come a-courting I make short work of them. Why should I spoil my thoughts, or bind up my golden freedom?”
“But if one of them loved you very much and you him, then you’d let yourself be bound, wouldn’t you?” asked Elška. “Why, Elška, don’t you know how it goes? First, his parents would bargain with my father and haggle
