"A telegram?"
"Well, yes. A message to say father was going on well, and to give thee his love."
"His love," echoed Violet in a whisper.
"And loads and loads of people are dead," continued Ella, who had not half exhausted her store of news; "and the little man who used to sell the peppermint sticks has had his whole head blown off. His wife says it is not a bit true, and she wanted to go off in a cart this morning to look for him, only the doctor would not let her. Mother said the poor woman's head was gone; so then, you see, they would neither of them have heads, I suppose; and would not that be rather funny, Violet?"
Evelina tittered a little, and went into the next room to hide her laughter; but Fritz grew very red, and said angrily, "The little donkey! she does not know what she talks about, only picking up what other people say."
"I don't pick up what other people say. I heard every word, and lots more," rejoined Ella stoutly; but still she blushed at Fritz's reproof, and shuffled her shoulders along the wall uneasily.
"And is thy father very sick? will he come home soon?" asked Violet, whose face and lips had been gradually whitening as the children's talk went on.
"Ah, that I cannot tell thee. Mother says it will be a long time before he can move at all, and then he will have to get crutches."
"And must he always walk with crutches, always, always?" asked Violet, whose mind was only gradually opening up to all the sadness of the occasion.