"Not when it took the man she loved away from her to make it!"
"Where is my father's violin?"
"Elnora!"
"I've never seen a picture of my father. I've never heard his name
mentioned. I've never had a scrap that belonged to him. Was he my
father, or am I a charity child like Billy, and so she hates me?"
"She has good pictures of him. Seems she just can't bear to hear him
talked about. Of course, he was your father. They lived right there when
you were born. She doesn't dislike you; she merely tries to make herself
think she does. There's no sense in the world in you not having his
violin. I've a great notion----"
"Has mother got it?"
"No. I've never heard her mention it. It was not at home when he--when
he died."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yes. I'm the only person on earth who does, except the one who has it."
"Who is that?"
"I can't tell you, but I will see if they have it yet, and get it if I
can. But if your mother finds it out she will never forgive me."
"I can't help it," said Elnora. "I want that violin."
"I'll go to-morrow, and see if it has been destroyed."
"Destroyed! Oh, Aunt Margaret! Would any one dare?"
"I hardly think so. It was a good instrument. He played it like a
master."
"Tell me!" breathed Elnora.
"His hair was red and curled more than yours, and his eyes were blue.
He was tall, slim, and the very imp of mischief. He joked and teased all
day until he picked up that violin.
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