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 “Yes, indeed. Far more beautiful,” sighed Elška.

“Are there good people in Prague? Is it a beautiful place? Did you like it there?” questioned Bára a little later.

“They were all good to me, auntie, the governess—all of them liked me. I liked to be among them all, but I longed so for you and kept wishing that you were there with me. Oh, Bára, dear, it is so beautiful there that you cannot even picture it in imagination. When I saw the Vltava, the beautiful churches, the huge buildings, the parks—I was as if struck dumb. And there were so many people on the streets as if there were a procession, some of them dressed in holiday costume even on the week days, carriages driving by constantly, turmoil and noise so that a person doesn’t know who is with them. Just wait. Next year you and I will go there together to a church pilgrimage,” added Elška.

“What would I do there! People would laugh at me!” said Bára.

“Don’t believe it, dear. There, on the streets one person doesn’t notice another, one doesn’t even greet another in passing.”

“I wouldn’t like that. That must be a strange world,” Bára wondered.

The next day—Sunday—Elška arrayed herself in her holiday clothes, placed on her head a very becoming red velvet cap such as was just in fashion, and went to early mass. All eyes in church were turned towards