Unexpectedly, and almost close to his cabin, Antek had met Yagna, carrying a hoe and a basket. He greeted her cordially; she glared at him like a wolf, and passed on in silence. “So haughty as that?” he grumbled angrily; and then, seeing Yuzka in the enclosure, rated her soundly for being out in the damp. She was indeed so much better by now that they had permitted her to lie in the orchard all day long. Her sores were healing beautifully, and leaving no scars, and it was only in secret that Yagustynka continued to anoint her as before, Hanka grudging so great a consumption of butter and eggs. So she lay, getting well slowly, almost all day long by herself, Vitek now tending the cows again. Only now and then did a girl look in for a while, or Roch sit with her for a little; or old Agata would come to say, as usual, that she was going beyond doubt to die in harvest-time, in Klemba’s cabin, and as a peasant dame should die. But her most frequent companion was Lapa, that always watched by her side, the stork, that would come at her call, and the birds which flew down to her for crumbs. One day, when no one was in the hut, Yagna came to her with a handful of caramels; but before Yuzka had time to thank her, she had taken to flight on hearing Hanka’s voice somewhere, crying over the hedge: “May they do ye good!”—She had vanished. She then ran over to her brother’s, carrying something for him. She found Nastka beside a cow that was drinking water out of a tub. Simon was building an outhouse close by, and whistling with all his might. “What!” she exclaimed, very much surprised; “have you got a cow so soon?” “We have: is she not a beauty?” returned Nastka, very proud of her. “Really, a very fine one: she must be of Manor stock. Where did ye buy her?”