admit, that Vendulka with all her faults was immeasurably above them in sincerity and purity of character.
In the stillness of the night he walked to and fro for a long while, trying to make up his mind to his future behaviour towards Vendulka. She had deeply wounded him with her harsh refusal; she deserved that he should be cross with her for a long time after their marriage. Should he now go on meeting obstinacy with obstinacy, and breaking down her pride, to show that he meant to be the master now and for the rest of their lives? Would she have been sufficiently annoyed with what he had done to her this night? What would she say when they met again? It never occurred to him that she could possibly have carried out her threat.
Our good Lukas was so deep in thought that he imagined himself still walking from end to end of the field at the back of the inn; but he had unconsciously drawn nearer to his own farm. He did not realize this until he stood close to the fence of his little garden. Suddenly he heard a joyful cry, and a woman ran out of the house towards him. It was the maid-servant.
‘Oh, it’s only you?’ she said in
