heerful, for this weeping seemed to
be a kind of relief to her; all the year round she had to suppress so
much secret sorrow, that she felt thankful for an opportunity to give
vent to her feelings.

Could people be blamed if they shunned her as an uncanny person,
especially as they were keeping a secret from her? The habit of avoiding
Black Marianne was partly extended to Amrei herself; in several houses
where the girl called to offer help or sympathy she was made to see
distinctly that her presence was not desired, especially as she herself
was beginning to show certain eccentricities which astonished the whole
village; for example, except on the coldest winter days she used to go
barefoot, and people said that she must know some secret method to
prevent herself from catching cold and dying.

Only in the house of Farmer Rodel were they glad to have her, for the
farmer was her guardian. His wife, who had always taken Amrei's part and
who had one day promised to take her into her service when she was
older, was prevented from carrying out this plan. She herself was taken
by another--Death. The heaviness of life is generally felt in later
years, when one friend after another has been called away, and only a
name and a memory remains. But it was Amrei's lot to experience this in
her youth; and it was she and Black Marianne who wept more bitterly than
any of the others at the funeral of Farmer Rodel's wife.

Farmer Rodel was always complaining about how hard it was that he should
have to give up his property so soon, although not one of his three
children was yet married. But hardly a year had passed, and Damie had
not yet worked a full year in the quarry, when the celebration of a
double wedding was announced in the village; for Farmer Rodel's eldest
daughter and his only son were to be married on the same day. On this
day Farmer Rodel was to give over his property to his son, and at this
wedding it was fated that Amrei should acquire a new name and be
introduced into a new life.

In the space before the large dancing-floor the children were assembled,
and while the grown-up people were dancing and enjoying themselves
within, the children were imitating them outside. But, strange to say,
no boy and no girl would dance with Amrei. No one knew who said it
first, but a voice was heard to call out:

"No one will dance with you-you're Little Barefoot!" and "Barefoot!
Barefoot! Barefoot!" was echoed on all sides. Amrei was