tly to take him as a
servant on your farm. You would be doing a very charitable deed, and he
would be sure to serve you faithfully all his life."

"Where is your brother?"

"Down yonder in the woods; just now he is a charcoal-burner."

"Why, we have few trees and no kiln at all. I could more easily find
work for a field-laborer."

"He'd be able to do that work, too. But here is the house."

"I'll wait until you come out," said John. Barefoot went in to put down
the water, and arrange the fire, and make Marianne comfortable in bed.

When she came out John was still standing there and the dog jumped up at
her. For a long time they stood under the parental tree, which rustled
quietly and bowed its branches. They talked of all kinds of things; John
praised her cleverness and her quick mind, and at last said:

"If you should ever want to change your place, you would be the very
person for my mother."

"That is the greatest praise that anybody in the world could give me!"
Barefoot declared. "I still have a keepsake from your mother." And then
she related the incident of their meeting his mother, and both laughed
when Barefoot told how Damie could not forget that Dame Landfried owed
him a pair of leather-breeches.

"And he shall have them," John declared.

They then walked back together as far as the village, and John gave her
his hand when he bade her "Good night." Barefoot wanted to tell him that
he had shaken hands with her once before, but, as if frightened by the
thought, she fled away from him and ran into the house; she did not even
return his "Good night." John, puzzled and thoughtful, returned to his
room at the "Heathcock."

The next morning Barefoot found that the swelling in her face had
vanished as if by magic. And never had she caroled more gaily through
the house and yard, through the stable and barn, than she did today. And
yet today was the day when it was to be decided, the day that John was
to declare himself. Farmer Rodel did not want to have his sister talked
about by any one, in case it should all come to nothing after all.

Nearly the whole day John sat in the room with Rose, who was making a
man's shirt. Toward evening Mistress Rodel's parents came, along with
other relatives. It must be decided one way or the other today.

The roast was sputtering in the kitchen, the pine wood cracking and
snapping, and Barefoot's cheeks were glowing, heated by the fire on the
hearth and the fire that wa