WEIGHED IN THE BALANCES.
That "but" of Fritz's rested all the evening somewhat heavily on
Violet's heart, otherwise there was something about Evelina that
would perforce have fascinated the child. It was a face that seemed
to grow prettier each time she looked at it; and her voice was so
sweet, especially when she sang little snatches of song, which she did
apparently unconsciously, as she went about the room setting everything
in apple-pie order, and dusting the ornaments and furniture with an
easy grace, as if all she did were a pleasure to her.
In the evening, after Violet had been put to bed, Aunt Lizzie went out
to get some letters, and Evelina and her charge were left alone. The
moment the door closed on her protectress, the nervous look came back
to Violet's eyes, and she gazed with a distressed intentness at the
shining brass balls at the foot of her bed.
Evelina, however, appeared quite unconscious of any difference in
her manner. She added wood to the stove, polished the brass kettle,
chirruped to the canary, and then seating herself at the window, she
took out her knitting, and with swiftly-flying fingers went on with a
stocking which she was making for one of the little boys at Gützberg.
This she told Violet presently with much laughter, describing how the
little tease Henry had pulled all the needles out of her work just at
the most critical part, to make sticks for his soldiers' flags, and how
she had had to go back and knit half the leg over again; and all the
time that she laughed and told her story she was knitting away without
once looking at her work, but straight out of the window at the houses
and shops opposite.
Once when she looked up hastily, she became aware of two faces placed
against the high-up window of a house almost exactly opposite, and
she saw that four eager eyes were following all her movements with an
intense interest.
In the fair, round, smiling face, with its great blue eyes, and its
golden curls all tucked away inside a plain white linen nightcap,
Evelina did not at first recognize Ella; but a glance at the burning
eyes of the little boy who stood beside her, and who seemed to watch
her own actions with an almost jealous anxiety, was sufficient to make
her recognize the lad who had stood by Violet's chair that afternoon,
and had replied so shortly to her question "that he was Violet's own
friend."
"Ah, that is where he lives, thy little friend. How he does stare!"
Evelina put down her knitting for a minute, and nodding across to
Fritz, drew out her pocket-handkerchief and waved it through the open
pane beside her.
Fritz bowed in reply rather stiffly. Ella pranced about in some
excitement for a moment, but noticing that Fritz's expression was
somewhat gloomy, she became grave also, and in a few minutes they both
disappeared from the window.
Then, almost without being aware of it, Violet and Evelina fell into
quite a natural talk. Evelina had so many questions to ask about Ella
and Fritz, and their parents, and the people who lived on either side
of them, and how they all were, and what occupations they had; so that
when Aunt Lizzie returned from her walk she was quite delighted to
hear, as she placed her hand on the door, a quiet little laugh from
Violet, as she exclaimed in evident amusement--"Indeed he is not; he is
a grand old fellow, and I love him."
"Old!" replied Evelina; "why, I should not call him old, and he is very
handsome. I can see him now quite plainly, for he is looking up at me
this moment."
Evelina had risen, and was gazing out through the casement as Aunt
Lizzie entered, so she did not hear her mistress's step until she was
quite close beside her.
"Of whom art thou speaking, darling?" asked Aunt Lizzie, glad to notice
the smile which was still lingering on Violet's face.
"Of the old policeman. Evelina asked me if he was a very cruel man, and
he is so good, Aunt Lizzie; he sometimes kisses his hand to me; and
dost not thou remember it was he who picked up my violets and gave them
to--to father;" there was a sudden break in the child's voice, and the
smile died suddenly away.
"Ah yes, he is a good old fellow," replied her aunt quickly; "he spoke
to me the other day and asked me all about thee."
"About me, Aunt Lizzie?"
"Yes, darling, about thee. Violet has many friends in the town of whom
she knows little, or perhaps nothing; but they know her--they look up
at her as they go past the window, and they love her."
"They love me?" Violet smiled again, an inquiring, happy smile, and
her little white face mantled with modest blushes. "So many friends,"
she said softly; then added almost in a whisper, "and also, Aunt
Lizzie, the Lord Jesus; he is my friend too, is he not?"
"He is indeed thy best friend; so good a friend, that no matter who
else goes away and leaves little Violet, he is always beside her; and
when she is very tired, and her back aches, and her heart is sad, then
she has only to think how close he is beside her, and rest her little
tired head just so against his breast." And as Aunt Lizzie spoke she
drew Violet close beside her, and covered her upturned face with loving
kisses.
Evelina was seated again in the window as Aunt Lizzie turned round from
the bed. Her fingers were flying swiftly, the steel needles clattered
and chinked, but there was a moisture in her usually bright eyes, which
her mistress understood and was glad to see.
Two days afterwards Aunt Lizzie returned to Gützberg, leaving Evelina
in sole charge of Violet. She had almost grown accustomed to her now.
At first it was a sore trial to her that Evelina slept in the room
which used to be her mother's. When the door of it opened and shut, her
heart gave sudden leaps and starts, which made her sick and wretched.
When she saw Evelina's hat hanging on the same nail where her mother's
used to be, she turned her eyes away quickly; but even to this she soon
grew accustomed, and said to herself, with a long, wishful sigh, "When
father comes back all will be like home again."
Fritz, too, became much more friendly with Evelina as the days wore on.
She had quite a fund of fairy tales and children's stories, which she
used to tell them in the evenings. It was after supper was finished
that they used to gather round her in the window; and Violet's eyes
grew and darkened and deepened in the summer twilight as she listened,
inthralled, to the stories of forest gnomes and elves that hid
themselves beneath the fragrant ferns and mosses of the woods.
Evelina could sing, too. She had the sweetest voice imaginable, and she
knew heaps of ballads; and when the song was an exciting one, she would
act it with quick gestures and flashing eyes; or when it was sad, real
tears sprung to them with an almost unnatural swiftness.
Violet listened and pondered and watched every movement of the face
before her; and yet, with an unconscious distrust, still kept the whole
freedom of her loving heart uplifted in the balance.
"Fritz," she said one evening suddenly, as he and she sat alone in
the deep window-seat, "Fritz, tell me this one thing: dost thou love
Evelina?"
"I like her," replied Fritz quickly.
"I like her too, she is ever so kind to me, and she never says a cross
word, like old Kate; but I like Kate better."
"I know," cried Fritz, who was busy peeling a stick and throwing the
shavings on the ground, "she looks in the glass so often, and she is
always twisting up little curls on her forehead. I can see her from
the window opposite. And once she was smiling and bowing at herself in
the glass, and she suddenly looked up and saw me; and she was such a
little fool, she ran away with her face covered up with her hands and
threw herself down on the bed. Still she is not too nasty," added Fritz
comfortingly, "and I like her. She tells grand stories, and she is
awfully good-natured."
Violet listened almost awe-struck. Fritz was certainly wonderful at
guessing and seeing things; he knew much better all about Evelina than
she did, and he was able to explain things so easily.
"She often says 'Yes' when she is not listening to one word any of us
says; and when she leans out of the window and sings, she pretends she
does not see the people in the street stopping to hear: she pretends
lots of things; that I see well enough," cried Fritz, waving the
newly-peeled white stick triumphantly over his head, and bringing it
down on the cushion with a bang. "Still I like her, and Ella thinks her
simply an angel."
Violet grew more reassured; and when Evelina returned smiling and
pretty, and with a lovely fresh cake full of currants in her hand for
Violet, the room seemed quite bright again; and Ella coming across the
street, and up the stairs with great bounds, was kept for the evening
meal, and sat on Evelina's knee all the afternoon happier than any
queen.