s fed itself
with. Ernest is too unpractical to have been able even to feed himself!"

"And he knows it, my poor Ernest!" said Mrs. Schroder. "This is why
he should be pitied. It is hard for a generous nature to owe all to
another. It has weighed Ernest down; it has embittered the love of the
two brothers."

"But it is more bitter for Harry," persisted Violet. "All this time
Ernest could think of the grand return he could bring when his time
should come. But Harry! He brings the clay out of which Ernest moulds
the statue; but the spirit that Ernest breathes into the form,--will
Harry understand it or appreciate it? The body is very reverent of the
soul. But I think the spirit is not grateful enough to the body. There
comes a time when it says to it, 'I can do without thee!' and spurns the
kind comrade which has helped it on so far. Yet it could not have done
without the joy of color and form, of sight and hearing, that the body
has helped it to."

"You do not mean that Ernest will ever spurn Harry?--they are brothers!"
said poor Mrs. Schroder.

Violet looked round and saw the troubled expression in Mrs. Schroder's
face, and laughed as she laid her head caressingly in her friend's lap.

"I have frightened you with my talk," she said. "I believe the hot air
in the room bewildered my senses and set me dreaming. Yes, Harry and
Ernest are brothers, and I believe they will always work together and
for each other. I have no business with forebodings, this laughing,
sunny day. The March sun is melting the icicles, and they came
clattering down upon me, as I was in the yard, with a happy, twinkling,
childish laugh. There are spring sounds all about, water melting and
dripping everywhere, full of joy. I am the last person, dear mother
Schroder, to make you feel sad."

Violet got up quickly, and busied herself about the room: filled the
canary's cup with water, drew out the table, and made all the usual
preparations necessary for dinner, talking all the time gayly, till she
had dispersed all the clouds on Mrs. Schroder's brow, and then turned to
go away.

"You will stay and see Harry and Ernest?" asked Mrs. Schroder. "They
have gone to make the last arrangements."

"Not now," said Violet. "They will like to be alone with you. I will see
Ernest to bid him good-bye."

II.

Two years passed away. At the end of this time Mrs. Schroder died. They
had passed on, as years go, slowly and quickly. Sometimes, as a carriage