You can have it Saturday."
"You found it where you thought it was? You know it's his?"
"Yes, it was just where I thought, and it's the same violin I've seen
him play hundreds of times. It's all right, only laying so long it needs
fixing."
"Oh Aunt Margaret! Can I ever wait?"
"It does seem a long time, but how could I help it? You couldn't do
anything with it as it was. You see, it had been hidden away in a
garret, and it needed cleaning and drying to make it fit to play again.
You can have it Saturday sure. But Elnora, you've got to promise me that
you will leave it here, or in town, and not let your mother get a hint
of it. I don't know what she'd do."
"Uncle Wesley can bring it here until Monday. Then I will take it to
school so that I can practise at noon. Oh, I don't know how to thank
you. And there's more than the violin for which to be thankful. You've
given me my father. Last night I saw him plainly as life."
"Elnora you were dreaming!"
"I know I was dreaming, but I saw him. I saw him so closely that a tiny
white scar at the corner of his eyebrow showed. I was just reaching out
to touch him when he disappeared."
"Who told you there was a scar on his forehead?"
"No one ever did in all my life. I saw it last night as he went down.
And oh, Aunt Margaret! I saw what she did, and I heard his cries! No
matter what she does, I don't believe I ever can be angry with her
again. Her heart is broken, and she can't help it.
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