The next morning Violet waited with some impatience for the time to arrive at which Madam Adler had promised to come and help her to write her letter. She made Evelina put her desk upon the bed, and her mother's Bible; and she had on a snowy clean pinafore and a fresh purple bow tying up her hair.  
Evelina looked very white this morning, and often when the child spoke to her she did not answer her. She went in and out of the room perpetually, and once or twice Violet heard her chattering in the street below in a low, excited voice; and when she did return, she did not look at Violet at all, but walked to the window and stared across at the house opposite.
 
"Is Madam Adler coming?" asked Violet a little wearily, as for the twentieth time she pushed the desk to one side, for the weight of it on the [Pg 167]counterpane tired her so. "I heard the clock strike twelve ages ago."
 
"I do not see her coming," replied Evelina evasively.
 
"Is Fritz at the window?"
 
"No."
 
"Or Ella?"
 
"No."
 
"Couldst thou not go across and see if she will soon be here? Do, Evelina, please."
 
Evelina turned slowly away from the window and went downstairs, while the little girl once more drew the desk near her, and, opening it, took out a sheet of paper and a pen.
 
But Evelina did not return for a long time, and Violet's head ached so much she had to lie back on her pillows. So the weary minutes dragged on, and there was no sound of any one coming. She drew out her watch and looked at it. It wanted but a quarter to one, and then it would be dinner-time, and the letter would surely be late for the post.
 
How fast the watch ticked, and yet how slowly the hands moved on. Her heart too was beating so loud and so fast she felt as if she were a part of the watch, and it made her more restless and impatient. So she put it back under her pillow and tried to lie quite still.
 
[Pg 168]
 
It was such a hot morning, and the sun was beating straight in on her bed. "If only Evelina would come back and draw down the blind," she murmured, for it was useless now to think of writing a letter before dinner-time.
 
There were ducks quacking somewhere down in the street, too, and making such a noise. When Evelina returned she must ask her to shut the window; and perhaps if she fell asleep for a few minutes her head would cease aching, and the sun would have moved away from her bed. All at once, just as she had pushed her desk quite away and lain down with her back to the window, she heard Fritz's voice raised quite loud and high in the room on the opposite side of the street; he was evidently calling out to some one in a tone of entreaty and dismay.
 
Violet with a sudden eagerness struggled upwards in her bed and listened.
 
"Mother, mother, look up! thou must look up! Father is not dead! father is not dead! Speak to Fritz!"
 
"What is it?" murmured Violet to herself with a sudden catch at her breath; "what is Fritz saying?—Oh! here is some one coming." For there was a sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then a low knock at the door.
 
[Pg 169]
 
It was the doctor. Violet recognized his kind good face with a start of joy, and stretched out her little white hands lovingly.
 
"So," he cried, looking first at her and then with surprise round the room. "How is this?—quite alone, little one?"
 
"Yes, Evelina is gone out; she went across to call Madam Adler to come to me again."
 
"So," said the doctor again, his face growing somewhat graver as he looked earnestly at her. "I do not think that Madam Adler can come to see thee this morning. But first I must tell thee some good news: I have just heard that thy father is quite well."
 
"Yes?" said Violet questioningly. "I also had a letter from my father;" and she held up an envelope which she had kept tightly pressed until now in her left hand.
 
"But mine was not a letter; it was a telegram."
 
"A telegram?" she repeated, puzzled and distressed.
 
"Yes, dearest child," said the doctor, taking her hand in his and half turning aside his head. "Thank God thy father is safe and well. I have made that sure for thee. But there has been a battle—a great battle; and our regiment was given the honour of being placed in the front; and some, of course, have been wounded; and some will never suffer any more;[Pg 170] and some are safe, and thy father is amongst those whom God has spared."
 
"My father!" cried Violet excitedly; "he has been in a battle, and he did not tell me so in his letter; and—and he is safe!"
 
"Yes. He could not have told thee in his letter. The battle was fought yesterday, and the news only came in last night."
 
"And is any one hurt?" she cried, clasping the doctor's hand with her burning fingers. "Is Fritz's father safe?"
 
"I am afraid he has been very seriously hurt," he replied.
 
"He is not dead?" gasped Violet.
 
"No, no; not dead. But it is uncertain whether he can recover."
 
"Poor, poor Fritz! that is why he cried so loud this morning. I heard him in my bed here calling to his mother."
 
"Just so. Madam Adler is in terrible distress; and Fritz, like a brave boy, is doing all he can to comfort her; and when Fritz comes to see thee thou must be brave also, my Violet, and try to comfort him."
 
"Yes," she replied, nodding her head in assent, for words were growing difficult to speak, and large tears[Pg 171] were rolling down her face. "I never thought of battles," she said pleadingly, as if in excuse for her tears.
 
"So much the better," said the doctor, pressing the little hot hand in his. "It is much pleasanter to think of peace."
 
"And soon there will be peace," she said, lifting up her dark, pitiful eyes to his face, heavy with tears.
 
"Yes, soon there will be peace," he replied, looking at her with a strange, long earnestness.
 
"And then I shall see father," she added softly, while through the troubled darkness of her eyes there came a slow sweet smile.
 
At this moment Evelina came into the room; and the doctor hearing her enter, rose up to take his leave.
 
"Do not leave the child again to-day alone," he said in an undertone as he walked on towards the window where Evelina stood; "and watch her carefully. People may come in and tell her things which may excite and pain her, and her little thread of life will not bear it. We must try to keep it going for a little longer. She is very weak this morning, and seems excited and restless."
 
"It is all about a letter to her father which she wishes Madam Adler to write for her; and now the thing is impossible."
 
[Pg 172]
 
"Why cannot you write it for her, eh?"
 
"She will not have me to do it; no, not on any account," replied Evelina somewhat pettishly.
 
"Humph!" The doctor gazed out of the window for a moment, and then turning to her he said quickly,—
 
"You are very good to the child—careful, gentle, patient? These things are an absolute necessity."
 
"I do all I can to please her," said Evelina, blushing hotly under the doctor's earnest gaze. "But sick children are full of fancies."
 
"It is a privilege to nurse such a child. Had I not my own hands full of work, and the sick and the dying to think of, I should come and sit here day and night to watch by her and comfort her.—Eh, little one," he said, turning suddenly round and moving again towards the bed, "shall I come to-morrow morning early and write that letter for thee to thy father?"
 
"Oh, wilt thou?" cried Violet with a sudden access of unmeasured delight as she stretched out her arms gratefully. "That will be too lovely;—and thou canst tell him everything, and that Violet is quite well, and so—so—"
 
"Happy," suggested the doctor.
 
"Yes." (A faint blush.) "Yes, so happy waiting[Pg 173] for him to come home." The blush deepened as the truthful heart sought about to extricate itself.
 
"I understand," he said, taking both the little hands in his. "So happy when thou thinkest of father coming home, but often a little lonely and a little tired of waiting; and often the head aches, and one cannot be very happy when one's head is aching, can one?"
 
"Yes, that is it," replied Violet. "But I was not thinking of headaches, only sometimes—I am too tired; and then—" (she glanced towards Evelina nervously), "and then I am sorry if—"
 
"Exactly; so am I," cried the doctor laughing. "When I am too tired I feel as if I must take a stick and beat some one; and I am sure Evelina must be black and blue with all the bruises thou givest her. I should not at all like to receive a blow from this powerful wrist." The doctor stooped as he spoke ............