A GRIEVOUS DISAPPOINTMENT.
It was still quite early when Evelina drew back the curtains in the
oriel window and let in the rosy morning light.
A few moments before, Violet had startled her by a cry of joy, so keen
and unmistakable that she had hurried from the inner room in her white
muslin dress to the child's bedside, only to find her face pressed in
against the pillow, around which her arms were tightly pressed.
"What is it? why didst thou call so?" she cried curiously as she
stooped over the bed.
"O Evelina, the angels were singing to me!" said Violet, lifting up a
face still wreathed in the happiest smiles. "Didst thou not hear them,
Evelina? I knew the very words they said. And father, dear father, he
was there with them in the meadow beside the hill; and he stretched out
his hands to me and cried out so loud, 'To meet again,' that I screamed
out with joy."
"Ah, that was indeed a lovely dream," said Evelina, stooping over the
bed and kissing the little face still lighted up with the straggling
beams of heavenly glory. "Go to sleep, dearest one, and perhaps thou
mayest dream of the angels again."
"And dost thou know, Evelina, in that meadow beside the hill, where the
flowers grow, my feet never touch the ground--never."
"Hush, little heart! go to sleep," she replied softly.
"And thou, Evelina, wilt thou not be an angel too? for thou art dressed
in white, and thou art so lovely and so kind," said the little voice
from among its pillows.
Evelina made no answer; her cheeks burned with a vivid red, and her
heart gave loud throbs as she bent over the child and kissed her again
passionately; then she turned and went back into the room. But her eyes
were full of tears, and for many minutes afterwards she was restless
and miserable, until at length she took off the white dress and laid it
aside on the top of her trunk; and the hat with the blue forget-me-nots
she hastily covered over with a handkerchief, and hid it away in the
press.
"What is the boy doing up there?" she said suddenly as she looked up at
the red tiles of the house opposite. "Why, he is saying his prayers on
the roof! Was ever anything so funny?"
When Violet did awake later on, she seemed to have forgotten all about
her dream; she sighed heavily, and there were bright red spots on
her cheeks. She watched all Evelina's movements with a kind of dull
curiosity, but for a long time she made no effort to speak. At last
she said, with a weak and somewhat complaining voice, "Evelina, why
art thou making the room ready so early? That brush knocks so loudly
against the chairs, and Violet's head is aching."
"I am up early because the whole town is up early," replied Evelina
somewhat shortly; "and a room cannot be cleaned properly without
brushing it."
"And why is the whole town up early--why, Evelina?"
"Why? of course thou knowest that this is the day of the grand
procession, and one cannot be both inside of the house doing one's work
and outside of it at the same time enjoying oneself."
"And art thou going out to see the angels?" asked Violet, fixing her
eyes sorrowfully on the face of Evelina.
"That depends--I am not certain."
"But thou wouldst like it, wouldst thou not?"
"Yes, yes, of course."
"And will it be a long way off, down a far, far street?"
"No, no, quite close. They are to turn off at the fountain and go up by
the cathedral."
"Then Violet will perhaps hear them singing," cried the child, raising
herself on her elbow, and flushing all over a lovely carmine colour. "I
have often heard the women singing at the fountain in the evening."
"Yes, I daresay."
"Ah, how Violet would love to stand, like other little children in the
street, and see the beautiful angels with their wings." A deep, longing
sigh followed this remark.
Evelina made no reply, and Violet still followed her movements
wistfully with her eyes, till at last they fell upon the little
carriage, which she was at this moment dusting, and which she presently
pushed somewhat further back into the corner.
"Just as far as the fountain," pleaded Violet with quivering lips.
"No, no, it is impossible; for the greatest crowd of all will be just
there. They are all to gather at the fountain, which is to be decked
out with flowers; and the first chorus is to be sung beside it. To
drag a carriage through such a multitude of people would be out of the
question."
"But in thine arms, Evelina; couldst thou not take me such a little way
in thine arms?"
"In my arms, dear love? who ever heard of such a thing?"
"Yes, yes, only to the fountain, to see the angels and to hear them
sing."
"Thou askest me that which thou knowest well I cannot do," replied
Evelina almost angrily. "The doctor would not hear of my taking thee
out of thy bed to carry thee in my arms among such a lot of people. And
besides, thou wouldst not like it thyself: other children would stare
at thee, and say things, perhaps, which would hurt thee."
"What would they say, Evelina?"
"Ah, cruel things: children do not stop to pick their words."
"But what would they say?" pleaded Violet, her eyes opening wide and
her cheeks flushing.
"They would, perhaps, point their fingers at thee and call thee names.
Ah, I have heard such things often in the street. There are wicked
children as well as good. I have seen them even throwing stones after
little sick children."
"Yes," cried Violet, sitting up straight, and her eyes deepening to
the purple shade which always came with some great mental excitement;
"and thou rememberest, Evelina, how one wicked boy threw a great
heavy stone at a poor hunchback; and how God was watching, and when
they would have thrown another the Lord Jesus laid his hand on the
hunchback's shoulders, and out of them came two beautiful shining
wings, and he flew straight up to heaven. Thou rememberest all this,
Evelina?"
"Oh yes, I daresay," replied Evelina, who was down on her knees
polishing the stove.
"But thou didst tell that very story to me."
"Well, and what then?"
"Then Violet is not afraid to go out in the streets; for the good Lord
Jesus loves Violet very, very much, and if anything came to hurt her
he would just give her wings, and she would fly away straight up to
heaven."
For a moment Evelina's heart relented, as she looked up from the stove
at those earnest eyes full of such a beseeching entreaty.
"Well, well, we can see when the time comes," she said quickly. "Lie
down now, and don't talk about it any more. When I have done my work
I will go and see the doctor and ask him; and if he says 'Yes,' why,
then, we must arrange it somehow."
"Ah, thou best Evelina, how good thou art!" cried Violet, stretching
out her arms gratefully. But Evelina was perhaps too busy to notice
the action. At any rate, she continued polishing the stove; and Violet,
with eyes still darkly dilated with the wonder of some great but as yet
unrealized joy, lay back upon her pillow, only saying to herself in a
whisper, "Violet will see the angels and will hear them sing."
At eleven o'clock Evelina went out. She was some time away, and
Violet watched with a beating heart for her return. At last she heard
footsteps on the stairs; but Evelina, instead of entering the kitchen,
went into her own room and shut the door.
Violet waited for a few minutes, and then called to her; but she
received no answer. Evelina was walking hurriedly about the inside
room, and did not hear her calling.
At last the door opened, and Evelina came in. She had on a white dress
now--a white muslin dress, dotted over with pale-blue spots; and on her
bosom there was fastened a bunch of forget-me-nots, and on the front of
the dress there were also pale-blue bows the same colour as the flowers.
She looked so young and fresh, with her golden hair and her pretty
smiling face, covered just now with a crimson blush, that Violet cried
out involuntarily,--
"Oh how beautiful! how lovely! Hast thou seen the doctor?"
But Evelina only said hastily, as she looked at the bed, "How stupid of
me! I have forgotten to dress the child."
"Then thou _wilt_ take me? O dearest Evelina, thou art too good to
Violet."
Evelina looked now really distressed. She came over and took the
child's hot hands in hers, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I have not seen the doctor," she said in a quick, nervous voice. "He
was out, and had left no word where he was gone. I durst not take thee
out on such a day without his leave. Although the sun is hot, there
is a keen east wind blowing; so I will just run down to the fountain
and have one look at the procession, and then come back to thee. I
shall not be five minutes away, and thou shalt hear all about it
when I return, and how Miss Ella looked, and how she sang; and then
we shall have, oh such a feast when Evelina comes home--peaches and
grapes which are in the next room waiting for us to eat them, and a
cake covered with sugar, and a bunch of violets fastened on the top.
And we shall have such fun; shall we not, thou little heart's love? And
now Evelina will dress thee in thy little purple frock; and Miss Ella
shall come back, wings and all, and have a share in our supper and our
good things. And now thou wilt not be an ungrateful little girl, when
Evelina has done all this for thee? Ah, for shame! dry thine eyes, and
let us have no more tears."
Violet drew her hand quickly out of Evelina's, and wiped away the
tears which were flowing fast down her poor pale face; for was it not
ungrateful and unkind of her to weep and fret when Evelina had been so
good, and had bought for her such lovely things as grapes and peaches?
Evelina tied an apron over her new dress and began to comb out Violet's
yellow locks. They did not glisten now so brightly as they used to
do, for long sickness had dimmed their golden colour; but still, when
tied up with the dark purple knot, they hung prettily enough over the
cashmere dress, into the neck and sleeves of which Evelina had sewn
clean, soft, white frills.
"There now! thou art quite lovely, quite charming!" cried Evelina,
gazing at the little girl, whose lips still quivered with a suppressed
excitement. "And see here! I will give thee some of my forget-me-nots,
and thou shalt fasten them, so, on front of thy dress; and there will
not be an angel in all the procession so fair as thee. Eh, little
heart's darling, what sayest thou?"
Violet did not answer; she only lifted her eyes to Evelina's face, as
if she wished to speak and could not.
"What is it? Is there anything more I can do for thee? for it is now on
the stroke of twelve, and if I do not start at once I shall be late."
"Please, please, Evelina, take Violet in thine arms, only this
once--such a little way to the fountain, such a short, short
street--that Violet may see the angels and hear them sing."
"It is impossible," replied Evelina shortly, and growing very red.
"But as thou art so determined to cry and to make a fuss, I will stay
at home myself, and make an end of it all." And Evelina sat down on a
chair, and tears came into her eyes.
"No, no!" cried Violet passionately; "thou must go, Evelina. Violet
will cry no more. She will wait here quite quietly till thou comest
back. Yes, go now; please go, Evelina, ever so fast; and when thou hast
seen the beautiful angels at the fountain, thou wilt come back quickly
to Violet."
Evelina rose up with averted face, and said, somewhat sullenly, "Well,
as I am dressed, I suppose I may as well go; but after such a fuss and
crying one cannot enjoy oneself very much."
She pushed the door of her own room open as she said this, and, going
in, drew the bolt quickly across it. A minute or two later she opened
the other door at the side of the landing, and began to descend the
stairs.
"Evelina!" cried Violet after her piteously, "lift Violet first into
the window. Evelina! Evelina! thou hast forgotten to put Violet into
her chair!"
Evelina turned to answer the child's appeal; but suddenly remembering
something, she paused and raised her hand to her head. "I cannot
wait now to take it off, for it is all pinned to my hair," she said
peevishly. "In any case, I shall be back directly." And so, turning a
deaf ear to Violet's cries, she went down the stairs and out into the
street.