It was such a hot morning, and the sun was beating straight in on her bed. "If only Evelina would come back and draw down the blind," she murmured, for it was useless now to think of writing a letter before dinner-time.
There were ducks quacking somewhere down in the street, too, and making such a noise. When Evelina returned she must ask her to shut the window; and perhaps if she fell asleep for a few minutes her head would cease aching, and the sun would have moved away from her bed. All at once, just as she had pushed her desk quite away and lain down with her back to the window, she heard Fritz's voice raised quite loud and high in the room on the opposite side of the street; he was evidently calling out to some one in a tone of entreaty and dismay.
Violet with a sudden eagerness struggled upwards in her bed and listened.
"Mother, mother, look up! thou must look up! Father is not dead! father is not dead! Speak to Fritz!"
"What is it?" murmured Violet to herself with a sudden catch at her breath; "what is Fritz saying?—Oh! here is some one coming." For there was a sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then a low knock at the door.
It was the doctor. Violet recognized his kind good face with a start of joy, and stretched out her little white hands lovingly.
"So," he cried, looking first at her and then with surprise round the room. "How is this?—quite alone, little one?"
"Yes, Evelina is gone out; she went across to call Madam Adler to come to me again."