voice from Heaven would come now and tell me!"

The child trembled with inward terror, and the sense of life's
difficulties for the first time arose vividly within her. And again she
went on, half-thinking, half-talking to herself--but this time in a more
decided way:

"If I were alone, I know for certain that I should not go; I should
stay here. For it would grieve me too much. Alone I could get along.
Good--remember that; of one thing, then, you are sure--as to yourself
you are decided. But what foolish thoughts are these! How can I imagine
that I am alone, and without Damie? I am not alone--I belong to Damie,
and he belongs to me. And for Damie it would be better if he had a
fatherly hand to guide him--it would help him up. But why do you want
anybody else, Amrei?--can you not take care of him yourself, if it be
necessary? If he once starts out in that way, I can see that he'll be
nothing but a servant all his life, a drudge for other people. And who
knows how uncle's children will behave toward us? Because they're poor
people themselves, they'll play the masters with us. No, no! I'm sure
they're good,--and it would be a fine thing to be able to say: 'Good
morning, cousin.' If uncle had only brought one of the children with
him, I could decide much better--I could find out about things. Oh, good
heavens, how difficult all this is!"

Amrei sat down by the tree. A chaffinch came hopping along, picked up a
seed, looked around him, and flew away. Something crept across Amrei's
face; she brushed it off--it was a ladybird. She let it creep about on
her hand, between the mountains and valleys of her fingers, until it
came to the tip of her little-finger and flew away.