This seemed, in these hard times, the greatest possible bliss to Dora. She actually hungered and thirsted for these sounds, which were the only thing to cheer her, as few carriages passed in the narrow street below and the voices of the passers-by did not reach them. The scales and exercises she heard were a real diversion, and if Dora heard even a little piece of music she was quite overjoyed and lost not a note. What a lucky child! she thought to herself, to be able to sit at the piano and learn such pretty pieces.
In the long, dreary afternoons, Dora was visited by melancholy thoughts and she remembered the time when she had strolled with her father under the linden trees. This time would never come again, she would never see and hear him any more. Then the consolation her father himself had given her came into her mind. Some day, of course, she would be with both her parents in the golden glow, but that was probably a long way off, unless something unusual happened and she were taken ill and should die from sewing shirts. But her final consolation was always the words her father had taught her:
"'Yet God keeps watch above us
And doeth all things well.'"
She tried to believe this firmly and, feeling happier in her heart, made her needle travel more easily and more lightly, as if driven by a joyful confidence. Just the same, the days were long and dreary, and when Dora came home in the evening to Aunt Ninette and Uncle Titus, everything about her was so still. At supper, Uncle Titus read and ate behind a big newspaper and the aunt talked very little in order not to disturb her husband. Dora said nothing, either, for she had become adapted to their quiet ways. In the few hours she spent at home between her lessons, Dora never had to be told to be quiet; all her movements had become subdued and she had no real heart in anything.
By nature, Dora was really very lively and her interests had been keen. Her father had often exclaimed with satisfaction: "The child is her mother's image!—The same merriment and inexhaustible joy in life." All that was now entirely gone and the child very seldom gave her aunt occasion to complain. Dora avoided this because she feared such outbreaks. Every time, after such a demonstration, she repressed for a long time every natural utterance and her joy of life would be completely gone. One evening, Dora returned from her work full of enthusiasm, for the young pianist across the street had played the well-known song Dora loved and could even sing:
"Rejoice, rejoice in life
While yet the lamp is glowing
And pluck the fragrant rose
In Maytime zephyrs blowing!"
"Oh, Aunt Ninette!" she cried upon entering the room, "It must be the greatest pleasure in the world to play the piano. Do you think I could ever learn it?"
"For heaven's sake, child, how do you get such ideas?" wailed Aunt Ninette. "How can you frighten me so? How could such a thing be possible? Only think what noise a piano would make in the house. How could we do it? And where, besides, should we get the time and money? How do you get such unfortunate ideas, Dora? The troubles we have are enough without adding new ones."
Dora promised to make no more suggestions. She never breathed another word about the subject, though her soul pined for music.
Late in the evening, when Dora had finished her work for school, while the aunt either knitted, mended or sometimes dropped asleep, Dora climbed up to her garret room. Before closing her little window, she always gazed out at the sky, especially when the stars gleamed brightly. Five stars stood close together right above her head, and by and by, Dora got to know them well. They seemed like old friends come especially to beckon to her and comfort her. Dora even felt in some mysterious way as if they were sent to her little window by her father and mother to bring her greetings and keep her company. They were a real consolation, for her little chamber was only dimly lighted by a tiny candle. After saying her evening prayer while looking at the starry heavens, she regained a feeling of confidence that God was looking down at her and that she was not quite forsaken. Her father had told her that she had nothing to fear, if she prayed to God for protection, for then His loving care would enfold her.