The next day, about four o'clock in the afternoon, Evelina arrived from GÜtzberg. Violet had been told that she was coming, and that she was to be her own little maid and companion until her father returned to Edelsheim from the war. Aunt Lizzie, too, had promised that she would often come over and see her, and Fritz and Ella would meantime be her daily companions; and Madam Adler, too, had promised John that she would be constantly on the watch, coming to see that the child was well and happy.

"It will not be for very long, will it?" she had said to her Aunt Lizzie, as she was being dressed that morning for the first time since the departure of the regiment.

"What will not be for long?"

"Until father comes home," replied Violet smiling. "I heard him tell thee so that night when the moon was shining through the window. Did not he, Aunt Lizzie?" The child's eyes deepened with prophetic joy as she gazed full into her aunt's face, waiting for a reply. It did not come at once, and she added with an ever-increasing smile, "And when the war is over I shall see him again, ever so soon. He will cry out, 'Where is my own little Violet?' and look up; and I will stretch out my arms—so—Aunt Lizzie; and then all the fighting will be over, and we shall never have to say good-bye any more."

Aunt Lizzie was drawing on Violet's stocking, and she bent her head very low to see that the seam was straight at the ankle. When she looked up again, the smile was still on Violet's lips, but her eyes were looking far away up into the blue sky, high, high up above the roofs and the steeple, to where the little sick girl, whose watch was beating so close to her heart now, had gone up to be with God.

When Evelina arrived, there was quite a little company gathered together to meet her—Aunt Lizzie, and Violet, and Fritz, and Ella, and Madam Adler, who had baked a special loaf for the supper, and who had also a curiosity to see the new girl, and form her own opinion as to her capabilities.

"What a huge box she has!" cried Fritz, who, full of interest, was kneeling on the cushioned window-sill, and could thus overlook the whole street. "And another box, too, stuck up beside the driver; and here she is herself, and two more boxes in her hand."

"Yes, two little, tiny baby boxes," shouted Ella, whose rosy face was spread out against the windowpane, "and two very black hands."

"Those are not her hands; those are her gloves, little donkey," cried Fritz contemptuously. "I saw her face; and she is ever so pretty.—She is indeed, Violet, ever, ever so pretty."

Violet nodded her head in her grave, peculiar way. It was a moment of intense excitement to her the advent of this new girl, the friend who was to be always with her until her father's return; but no one could hear the throbbing of the little girl's heart. And though her eyes darkened and the pupils grew wider and wider, no one knew the tumult going on within her breast.

As a rule, she took no interest in strangers. Like all invalids, she shrank from the entrance of those with whom she was not intimate; and those who knew and loved her pitied her distress when the crimson blushes, rushing in waves over her pale face, showed the nervous tremor of her heart.

But to form a really new friendship was a thing almost impossible to her. She loved those whom she had known all her life, with a tenacity far beyond the usual love of children. She clung to them as all sick people cling to those who daily watch and tend them; and though Aunt Lizzie had sought in every way to inspire her with a feeling of confidence and interest in Evelina, she shrank from the thought of their first meeting. And now, as she heard the ascending footsteps, a sudden rush of unreasonable distrust and premature dislike seemed to fill her heart, and she turned her face quickly away towards the window, and held fast hold of Fritz's hand, who was standing with gaping mouth and eyes riveted on the doorway.

There was a little flutter in the room. Aunt Lizzie rose and moved towards the door; Madam Adler, too, went forward; Ella drew back a step or two from the stove; and Violet, still looking with straining eyes at the houses opposite, heard, as the door opened, a sweet voice saying, in reply to some question of her aunt's,—

"Yes, thank you very much; I have had a very good journey. It was almost stiflingly hot in the train, but the air is cooler now."

"And the children?" asked Aunt Lizzie.

"Oh, the little angels, they are as well as possible. They cried, of course, when I took leave of them; but the master is taking them out this afternoon for a walk in the gardens; and the little one is quite happy.—Ah, is that the little sick girl yonder?"

Violet turned her head quickly round and looked up.

"Oh, how white she is!"

Aunt Lizzie hurried forward and stood beside Violet's chair.

"Here, sweet one," she said, kissing her on the forehead, "this is Evelina of whom we have talked so much. Thou and she will be great friends by-and-by. She has come all the way from GÜtzberg to take care of thee; is it not so, my treasure?"

Violet nodded her head and smiled nervously, then stretched out her hand to take Evelina's, but there was no enthusiasm in the movement.

"Ah, the poor child, she is nervous, she is shy, but we shall soon be the best of friends," cried Evelina pleasantly; "one cannot expect the little one to take to me all at once.—And who is this lad who looks as if he would eat me with his eyes, eh?"

"I am Violet's own friend," replied Fritz, colouring purple, but placing his hand firmly on the back of Violet's chair.

"Ah, it is very pleasant for her to have such a good friend," observed Evelina, laughing and throwing back her head so that the little gold bells on her ears tinkled;—"but by-and-by you must be my friend too; is it not so, eh?"

"Perhaps," said Fritz shortly, while poor Violet looked down at her pinafore and blushed because Fritz was somewhat uncivil in his reply.

"And who is this little cherub with the red cheeks? is she also a friend?" asked Evelina, as she sat down on the cushioned window-seat and tried to lift Ella on her knee; but the child wriggled somewhat roughly away from her, and a shower of wooden animals—ducks, pigs, and camels—which had been arrayed along the ledge overhead tumbled down in confusion over Evelina's hat, shoulders, and lap.

This created a general laugh, in which even Violet joined, and the first stiffness of the introduction was in this manner happily got over.

Evelina had a very pretty and pleasant face. There was certainly nothing to frighten one in it. Her hair, which seemed one mass of frizzly, golden threads, was brushed back from her face and pinned at the sides with somewhat large gold pins; she had eyes that seemed ever sparkling and smiling, rosy lips, and cheeks with dimples in them.

When she took off her hat and put on a very dainty white cap with crimped frillings of lace, and a snowy linen apron also edged with carefully-goffered frills, she looked so fair and sweet and happy, that Violet's eyes became riveted upon her, and she followed all her movements with an unconscious interest.

At last the moment came for Madam Adler to say good-bye, and Fritz and Ella as usual took a loving farewell of their little play-fellow.

As Fritz flung his arms round Violet's neck, he said in a whisper,—

"She is very pretty this Evelina, but—"

"What," cried Violet, a sudden distress coming into her eyes; "what is it, Fritz?"

"Nothing—I am not sure—I do not know; some other day I will tell thee;" and before she could drag his meaning from him he had marched across the room with head erect, and so he preceded his mother down the stairs.