“Viola,” Ephraim continued, as he bent his head down to the girl's face, “I have vowed to myself that whenever he... our father... should return, I would give our little bird its freedom. It shall be free, free as he will be.”
“Ephraim!”
“He is coming—he is already on his way home.”
Viola flung her arms round her brother's neck. For a long time brother and sister remained locked in a close embrace.
Meanwhile the bird resumed its jubilant song.
“Do you hear how it sings again?” said Ephraim; and he gently stroked his sister's hair. “It knows that it will soon be free.”
“A father out of jail!” sobbed Viola, as she released herself from her brother's arms.
“He has had his punishment, dear Viola!” said Ephraim softly.
Viola turned away. There was a painful silence, and then she looked up at her brother again. Her face was aglow, her eyes sparkled with a strange fire; she was trembling with agitation.
Never before had Ephraim seen her thus.