"Fritz found it out himself the other day and showed it to me and to mother."
"What?" again asked Violet, her eyes gazing eagerly into the little face before her.
"Violets have got humps on their backs; and thou—thou—art a violet too, and thou hast a hump on thy back; and is not that funny?"
"Hush!" cried Evelina, catching Ella by the skirt of her dress and trying to draw her back from Violet's chair; "such talk is not allowed in this room."
"Oh yes, let her tell me; I love to hear what Fritz says about the violets."
"What a strange child she is!" cried Evelina to herself as she let go the skirt.
"Go on," said Violet anxiously; "what more did Fritz say?"
"He had seven violets in his hand. He spread them all out on the table and counted them, for he had sent me with a whole penny to the shop, and only got back seven flowers. The woman had no flowers in her shop, only lovely yellow wreaths with writing on them to hang on dead people's graves; and when I brought one back to Fritz he was mad angry, and said he would not send thee over such a thing for all the world. He called me a blockhead, and said thy father was not dead, but quite alive and well, and it was no use; and so the woman gave the violets."
"Yes," said Violet somewhat faintly.