The girl answered nothing and turned her face away from him.
"How disgusting our country men are! Unhewn, rude, ugly, uneducated! Not like that count. His hands are so well-tended, so fair. And John's hands are like big potatoes, and he wants to touch me with his ugly, rough fingers? Never! I'd rather die an old maid than marry him or anyone like him! – Christine thought in disgust as she looked at John's hands lying in his lap. – And his face? He would only scare away the crows in the field! And that lord has such a handsome face! Why was I born here and not in some lady's family? Then the Count would have fallen in love with me and taken me as his wife… And his estate? This Rivershold is a sight to be admired! The paved walks, green fields with cut grass, big fountains, a lake with red fish, a huge house, probably as big as the king's. Ah, if only I hadn't been born here, but there, in the town where he came from!"
– Chris, if there's anything I can do to help…" John began again, trying to take her hand, but she pulled it away and gave him an angry, disgusted look.
– Go away, John! I don't want anything from you! – she said sharply, not deeming it necessary to show any delicacy to his unreciprocated feelings.
The lad looked at his beloved with longing and pain in his eyes, rose from the stone and, lowering his head, wandered home to his sharpening machine, perplexed by the behaviour of the object of his sincere love.
"What if I go to town? I can work and have good money. I'll send some of the money to Catherine and Cassie. After all, I'm young and healthy, I can cook, clean, do laundry, sew things. Maybe I can find a decent, rich husband there… It's a pity that lord will stay here. Yes, I'll speak to father today… No, not today: he's so worried about Cassie… Poor Cassie! I'll tell father when she's well, and in the meantime, I'll try to save up some money to get to the nearest town," Christine decided, when she saw in the city the ghostly hope of a good income and a decent life. The girl was not at all wicked, but decent, but she was drawn upwards, to a world where she would not have to sleep on a hard mattress, and where she could earn money to help her family.
When Christine returned home, Cassandra felt a little better: Mr. Morris had given her a tasty mixture and some powder, leaving three portions for the future. He told the pastor that the cause of Cassie's indisposition was a bad cold, but fortunately not fatal, and promised to visit her every day.