Meia rose before the sun. She had to. There was a lot to do. After all, today was the summer festival. The day would be long and the night had not been long. Due to the excitement, she had only been able to fall asleep late. With every hour, the departure drew closer and closer and with every hour, her nervousness increased for this reason.

When Meia came downstairs, the housekeeper was already waiting for her in the dining room. Work began immediately after breakfast. Meia had to try through a whole mountain of dresses. Her hair was done. She had to take a shower. Her make-up was done. Her hair was done again to bring it to perfection. She also had to try on dresses again because part of her selection, did not fit her body, according to the housemaid. There was no end to it, only time was running out.

While the housemaid struggled to dress Meia up, her father constantly walked around them and explained to Meia several times what she had to consider with Mr. Monet and how she had to behave in order to bring their meeting to the outcome that he desired. The only place where Meia found peace and quiet was in the bathroom and only after she had locked up. But even there, she always had the feeling that he was still nagging at her. Despite all the weaknesses of her body, the housemaid managed to finish her just in time, so that all three of them could wait on the path in front of the house at the specified time. Two full suitcases and a small wooden box stood next to them.

Out of all the dresses, the final choice had fallen on two A-line dresses. If, despite the age, one still did not know what those were, for example because one generally just wears some garbage bags, Meia could of course enlighten this person that A-line dresses were figure-hugging in the upper body area and got wider from the waist down. Their name, of course, came from the A-shape that resulted from this cut and, logically, such dresses were best suited to a figure like hers that tended to be more restrained towards the top. - At least that was how the housemaid had explained it to her. Meia herself had no idea about that stuff.

The dress she wore for the day had been chosen by the housemaid. It was a white summer dress with semi-transparent open sleeves. It was quite funny how they fluttered in all directions with every breeze and every movement, but otherwise they were sadly of no use. Despite its simplicity, the dress was the most valuable thing her family owned. It also included a round hat with a hatband in the fabric of the sleeves and that hat was decorated with a white peony that had a slight hint of pink in its centre.

As far as the hair was concerned, the housekeeper was unfortunately rather mother class. The final hairstyle was therefore rather simple. The only striking feature was two braided plaits that came together at the back of the head. It was half-open hair. What the housekeeper lacked in skill, she made up for in zeal. Meia was a dark blonde, but the housekeeper's work made her hair shine like mountain gold. To match, Meia wore eye-catching gold earrings, like raindrops. Unlike all the other stuff, they were actually hers.

The house behind them looked like one would imagine a house in the mountains. Wooden beams, wooden boards and a veranda were also there, but it was also still a half-timbered house and had brickwork between the beams and a tiled roof. The roof had a rain gutter but no snow guard. In winter, the snow always slid off the roof onto the veranda, because it did not have its own roof. Nevertheless, the area in front of the door always remained only lightly covered. Because the upper hallway above the front door had its full height, it had its own small roof that divided the main roof in the middle, which meant that the snow had to slide past the sides. Next to the house was a tree. Unfortunately, it only shed lemons, though that was probably better than nothing. Behind the house was a fenced vegetable garden. On the road was a fence with a gate and a letterbox. They were not both the same fence. The one by the road did not fence anything. If you followed it long enough in one direction, it would just end at the first bush you come across. The road was not a real road either. It was just a wide path of bare earth. This path led windingly down the flat mountain into the valley, through the village and on through the countryside until at some point it disappeared behind the mountains.

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Wiestahl was quiet at lunchtime. The streets were deserted. Only a single carriage could be seen. As expected, it followed the path to them. At the foot of the mountain, white wood mixed flickeringly with brown earth. The fresh mountain air made the grasses of the meadows sway towards the valley. Individual puffy clouds followed the current of nature and painted small shadows in the landscape. Restlessly, the gust caught the horses' manes and whirled up a veil of sand behind the carriage. Above the rushing of the wind was a voice in monologue. Even now her father was preaching his theses down again. Meia tried not to listen to him without looking like she was doing so. She did not find it too difficult. Her attention was on the carriage. What immediately caught her eye were the black horses pulling it. Even from here and even as a layman, she recognised that they must belong to a high breed, for they were huge. At a steady trot, they pulled the heavy carriage up the steep path. The closer they came, the more impressive they became. Their every movement had a grace as if it had been painstakingly trained. Meia could not take her eyes off them.

A few minutes later the carriage was in front of her. Golden vines were worked into the outer shell at the bottom. The wheels were rubber-coated and even had real steel springs. Everything was polished and the paint shone as if it had been newly applied. The dimensions were also stately. The carriage had five windows and two doors - on this side. She was the epitome of luxury. Anything less would probably look silly on such horses.

The coachman swung down to them and introduced himself as Nicolas. The first thing he did was to greet Meia with a bow. Her father only got one sentence from him. He only nodded appreciatively to the housemaid. Immediately afterwards, he opend one of the doors, came back to Meia and waited for her to be ready to enter. So it was easy to see what relevance each person present had for him. Her father seemingly could not accept it that way.

Quickly, her father picked up the wooden box that he had also carried himself. "This is a present for Mr Monet." Still in his sentence, he pressed it into the hands of the coachman, who had intended to take care of Meia. "It's old wine from the area. The box is even the original one. Please give it to him and tell him I'm sorry I can't come personally to hand it over. I am very pleased that someone like him maintains an estate in our prefecture. The gift is also a thank you for that."

Meia felt ashamed. Sure it was customary to present a gift, but it was still embarrassing the way her father forced it on the man.

.../ End Part