"What is this?" said the doctor, turning his eyes slowly away from her and looking at the sealed package on the table close to him; "what have we here? A present for Violet, 'from a friend.'" He took it up in his hand and examined it carefully. "Thou hast not opened it yet, I perceive."
"No; some other day," she said softly.
"Why some other day? why not now?" and the doctor held out the packet to her.
She stretched out her hand nervously; but it trembled so, and the parcel was so weighty for its size, that it fell from her grasp on the counterpane.
"There, there, that is enough; I will open it for thee." The doctor took it up and broke the seal, looking at it curiously as he did so. It had on it a little bird flying out of a cage, with the simple motto over it, "Free at last."
Inside the first paper was a layer of soft pink cotton wool.
"It must be something very precious," said the doctor, adjusting his glasses.
Violet rose a little on her elbow and looked also.
"Ho! I have a guess; but I can scarcely believe it possible."
"What?" she asked in a low voice, scarcely conscious even that she spoke, and with her eyes riveted on the parcel, from which the doctor was now slowly removing the pink wool.