The next morning rose beautiful and bright and fair. The town was gay as gay could be; flags were hung from almost every window, and the hum of a great content seemed to fill the air.  
In Violet's room all was still. The carriage had been pushed back into the corner of the room, and the little girl was asleep. She had been sleeping nearly all the morning; indeed so profound was her repose that Evelina had grown nervous and summoned the doctor, whose carriage she had seen outside the toy-shop door.
 
He came in quietly and stood beside the bed. The child's breathing was quick and regular, and her hand lay softly open upon the counterpane. "How long has she slept like this?" he asked in a low voice of Evelina, who stood with tearful eyes near the window.
 
"Ever since last night when I put her to bed. It[Pg 233] was the news of the victory, sir, which I think upset her."
 
"Who told her of it?"
 
"Little Ella, sir, Madam Adler's daughter."
 
"Ah, of course, of course, children will talk; and she must have heard it some time or other. Has she spoken at all since morning?"
 
"A few words, sir, but not much sense in them; about larks and flowers, and about wings—she is always rambling on to me about having wings."
 
"She will soon have them," said the doctor shortly.
 
"What!" said Violet, opening her eyes suddenly and looking up; "is that true? will Violet soon have wings?"
 
"Yes, my poor little child, very soon."
 
"Oh, how beautiful! how lovely!" she said with a sigh of the utmost content. Then turning her head suddenly, she said quickly, "Fritz, dost thou hear what the doctor says? Violet will soon have wings." Then she closed her eyes again and fell asleep.
 
"We can do nothing for her," said the doctor, as he moved aside from the bed. "This stupor that she has fallen into is the result of the shock she received yesterday; for in her state good news is almost as disturbing in its results as bad. I think she may awake out of this sleep and be perhaps none the[Pg 234] worse, but we cannot tell. God is very merciful, and the thread of her life is in his hands."
 
"Yes, sir," said Evelina faintly.
 
"Has she spoken at all to-day of her father?"
 
"No, sir, not exactly; only once she said something about a great victory, and smiled a little."
 
The doctor turned back and looked again at the quiet face on the pillow, and repeated in a low voice several times the words, "A great victory." "Yes, poor Violet! thy victory too is close at hand; and then cometh the peace which passeth all understanding."
 
"I shall come again to-night," he said, as he turned away towards the door; "and meanwhile no one must enter this room to disturb her, nor must she be left alone for a moment. Remember, she has been intrusted to your care by her father, and to mine, and we are responsible for her."
 
"Yes, sir; I shall watch her very carefully," replied Evelina humbly.
 
When the doctor was gone, Evelina sat down on the chair by the stove and cried bitterly, for a miserable feeling of guilt was over her. The smile on Violet's face was more difficult for her to look at now than the wakeful restlessness of pain and weariness; indeed everything in the room seemed to reproach her[Pg 235] this morning: the carriage standing in the corner; the little brown hat with its wreath of buttercups, which something in Evelina's heart told her would never be asked for again; the cake, which had not been tasted; the window-sill littered with the fallen animals which had been shaken from their usual resting-place by the firing of the cannon; and a kind of dull consciousness resting over all that the end was close at hand, and that the child lying so quietly on the bed yonder was, oh so near heaven;—and she—where was she? and what did she know of that peace which the doctor said passed all understanding?
 
She stood up presently, and goi............