it was not for many days that violet understood that her mother was really dead; perhaps, indeed, she did not quite understand it for many months to come. it seemed so strange to her that in the morning when she opened her eyes her father was boiling the kettle on the stove, and arranging the little wooden tray, which was always laid on her bed, with her morning meal, hot and tempting, placed upon it. it was he, too, who, lifting her gently up, placed the pillows behind her poor tired shoulders, and propped up her back so that she could sit forward and eat her egg and the sweet rolls which the baker sent across the street every day, fresh and smoking, for her breakfast.

"where is mother?" she asked each morning with a little sorrowful smile; for her father was so good and kind, and he sat so patiently beside her bed, and buttered the bread with such care that she did not[pg 22] want to cry or sob, though there was such a lump in her throat that she could not swallow what he gave her. "where is mother, dear father? she did not come to see me all yesterday."

"she was not able to come," he said in a low voice.

"but where is she? is she in the next room?"

john bowed his head over the tray, but made no answer. "here, eat thy egg, little one; it will be cold."

"mother always lifts the top off for me," said she with a sob.

"ah, so she does. i am afraid father is a poor old stupid, is he not?"

she looked up hurriedly, her father's voice sounded so strangely and his fingers trembled as he tried clumsily to lift the white top off the egg. then she saw that tears were streaming down her father's face and trickling down his beard; and thinking she had pained him by her words, she threw her arms around his neck and cried out sorrowfully,—

"thou best father, thou art not a bit stupid. i love thee, oh so much. the breakfast is too nice; only mother always eats a piece of my cake and drinks some of the milk, and thou must do so too."

"yes, yes, of course." john drew his hand hastily[pg 23] across his face, and broke off a piece of the cake. he drank a mouthful of the milk, and then quickly rising, he laid the piece of cake on the table by the stove, and went into the other room.

it was the next day that violet was told the truth, though the truth was to remain to her for many a long day a strange and cruel mystery. when she opened her eyes at the usual hour the following morning her father was not there, and only old kate the servant, who waited on all the various lodgers in john's house, was in the room, standing by the stove, and pouring some water into a saucepan.

"where is father?" asked violet, raising herself up painfully in the bed, and gazing around her with a frightened air.

"he has gone out," replied kate, keeping her back turned towards the child. "go to sleep. he said i was not to wake thee till he came home."

"but i am awake."

"never mind; thou must go to sleep again. he said thou wert on no account to awake or to speak until he returned."

"but i cannot go to sleep again," cried violet, beginning to whimper a little. "i can never go to sleep again in the mornings unless mother lifts me up in the bed and settles my pillows. is mother[pg 24] gone out too? she has not come in these three mornings to see me."

kate did not answer the question, for at this moment she had upset some of the water out of the saucepan upon the top of the stove, and it frizzled and made a great hissing and noise.

meanwhile violet had raised herself upon her elbow, and was gazing steadily at the door of her mother's room.

"kate," she said presently, in a low, coaxing voice, "couldst thou not carry me in thy arms in there? i know thou art very old, but father always says i am not heavier than a fly."

"thy father would be very angry if i were to attempt to carry thee. he is far too careful of thee to trust thee to my old bones."

"but thou must do it, kate." then suddenly raising her voice till it sounded quite shrilly through the house, she cried out, "mother, mother, may i not go into thy room? dear mother, answer me. violet's back aches, and she wants to lie in thy bed."

"tush! tush!" said kate, coming hurriedly to the bedside of the little girl, and putting her hand softly on her shoulder; "thou must not cry and clamour so, it is no use; thy mother is not in there. she cannot hear thee; thou wilt only disturb the neighbours."

[pg 25]

"she is there, she is there. open the door. she cannot hear me with all that noise down there in the street. do open the door, that i may call to her."

"there is no use calling to her, poor little lamb," said kate, sitting down on the bed beside her and wiping away her burning tears. "she cannot hear thee. they have taken her away this morning, and she will not come back any more.—the child must know the truth some time," muttered kate uneasily to herself. "her father should have told her before he went out."

"why did they take her away?" asked violet, still all unconscious of the bitter truth conveyed by the words.

"well, because it was arranged that she was to go this morning."

"but where—where? canst thou not answer me, kate? canst thou not tell me where is my little mother gone?"

"she is gone to heaven," replied kate, turning away her head and lifting her apron to her eyes. "poor child, why does she ask me such questions?"

"to heaven!" said violet with a little start and then a long gasp of childish agony. "my mother, my own dear mother. she is not gone away, she is not gone to heaven without her little violet; it is so far, so far away."

[pg 26]

"hush, hush, child! it is not so very far away. thou must not cry so. if thy father were to hear thee he would be angry with me that i have told thee."

"my father is not gone to heaven too?" she cried, starting up from her pillows with a fresh burst of agony. "o kate, kate! father will not leave his little violet.—father, father, come, come to violet."

at this moment the door opened, and her father came in. his face was deadly pale, and he walked over to the bed with a look of absolute horror in his face.

"my darling, my sweet one," he cried; "here is thy father. why dost thou call for him so? what troubles thee? what makes thee cry? father is here now; he cannot bear to see thee weep. what ails thee, my sweetest treasure?"

"they have taken mother away out of the next room. i screamed to her, and she would not answer. and—and kate says she will never come back to me any more."

john looked up at the old servant with questioning eyes, full of deepest anger drowned in pain.

"i could not help it, sir. the child awoke and made such a clamour i had to tell her. what wouldst thou have had me to do?" and the old[pg 27] woman burst into a fit of such unfeigned weeping that john uttered not a word of reproach, but turned again to soothe his little trembling darling.

"did the good lord jesus call my little mother away?" asked violet with quivering lips.

"yes, my heart's treasure, he did," replied he hoarsely.

"and he gave her wings?"

"yes, yes."

"and violet is only a poor little hunchback, and has no wings; and mother said he would call me first."

john laid his head down on the pillow and sobbed.