"'What should I do? I'm withering away here like a plant deprived of water! What of value is there in my life? Beauty? Only I was noticed by the landlord in the church… He looked at me with such admiring eyes! He's so handsome! But how could he be interested in a poor girl? Only in fairy tales! – Christine thought bitterly, and the tears of despair and hopelessness ran down her cheeks again. – Will I ever get out of this dark corner? When will I finally live in my own beautiful home, eating sweets and wearing fancy dresses?"
When darkness fell, Christine returned to the hovel she hated, where a hot supper and her older sister's silent disapproval awaited her. Christine had no appetite, for once again the meal was a bland porridge, which she had long since had enough of. Christine took off her shoes and her casual work dress and left her in a rough undershirt. She lay down on her bunk, facing the wall, and deliberately hid her head under the blanket, ignoring her sisters and father.
– Are you not ill? – Pastor Christine asked puzzled, noticing her daughter's gloomy mood. – Vespers is coming soon, and you need your strength. Eat, my daughter.
– I'm not hungry," she replied briefly, not wanting to talk.
– Then you will not be able to eat the porridge until tomorrow morning. If you don't share the evening meal with us, you'll be hungry – Pastor was concerned about his middle daughter's behaviour: Catherine had informed him earlier that Christine had left home again.
– I don't want any porridge, Dad. I'm not feeling well," Christine lied indifferently. She did not want to go to vespers: her father's sermons on the nobility of poverty had satiated her oppressed soul. She was melancholy and hopeless and longed to be alone.
– No time! You can't miss vespers! – Kate persisted, displeased at her sister's obstinacy.
– I won't go," said Christine quietly but firmly.
– But did St Christ stop preaching when he was afflicted? – said the pastor in an instructive tone.
– Leave her alone, Dad. God sees her heart and knows what is going on in it," said Catherine to her father: she had guessed her sister's plan to avoid vespers, but she kept silent, thinking it would do Christine good to be alone and think over her "wicked" behaviour. – Just please, Chris, wash the plates. I don't have time.