The moment these fairies came, her heart began to grow larger and purer; for it only takes a small soul to hold such a miserable little sprite as Envy, who is so mean and poor that he makes every place poor into which he enters, though he looks fine enough in his cloak streaked with purple, gold, and red, like the gaudiest of tulips.

No wonder Narcissa was glad to make the exchange of friends; for Love soon taught her that the way to be happy is to forget all about ourselves, and be glad whenever another is glad, no matter how humble a thing. So when she watched the sunshine creep towards a flower that had been waiting for it in the shade, or when she saw a young bird fly for the first time, or, in frosty mornings that made her sick frame shiver, when she heard the nuts rattle down, and knew the frost had opened their burs, and that the children would be glad, Narcissa's heart would be so full of sympathy that I am not sure but she was the happiest of all.

CHAPTER XXV.

NEW PLANS.

Violet saw Narcissa's white dress among the trees,--for the young elms in the avenue had grown so high as to meet now overhead,--and ran out to welcome her.

She helped the invalid into her house, brought her mother's easy chair out to the porch, and a footstool and fan, and last of all a little table, upon which she placed fresh flowers and a new book that had been given her, and then hurried away to mix a cooling drink, of which Narcissa was very fond.

"How good you are, Violet," said Narcissa when she came back, "and how little I deserve so much from you! A toad just hopped over the step--the queerest old fellow--looked as if he had been through a dozen wars, with his one eye and a missing leg. I could have laughed, we were so much alike; and yet I couldn't, for he made me think of that first day we came to your father's house, and----"

"O, yes," interrupted Violet; "and only think how much good has come to _us_ from that first visit--how comfortably we have lived ever since!--your father was so kind."

"But _I_ wasn't kind," said Narcissa, looking very sorrowful; "I did you nothing but harm; and think what you have done for me."

"Brought you a chair and a fan," laughed Violet; "wonderful deeds!"

"You may laugh if you will," answered the lady; "but I would not give what I have gained from you in exchange for a hundred times what I ever had before. My beauty only made me vexed if I was not admired; my health and strength made me restless, kept me always in search of what I could not find nor buy. Beauty, and health, and money are good for nothing by themselves. O Violet, you have given health and beauty to my _heart_, and now I am rich and happy because no living thing can be glad but I grow richer by sharing its joy--those cool cloud shadows flickering over the gra.s.s--this sweetness the air has caught from your violet beds; and look how that humming bird enjoys the dew and honey he is drinking out of the roses, hanging among them by his long, slim bill; I can almost taste it with him as clearly as I smell the odor he shakes from the roses with his glittering wings; and I feel, too, the coolness the shadows must bring to the heated gra.s.s. For all of this, my friend, I thank you constantly."

Violet was not fond of hearing herself praised; she thought it pleasure enough to help any one; so she changed the subject by offering Narcissa some more of the refreshing drink. She answered,--

"Not now, I thank you; but pray where do you buy this cordial?--it is so much pleasanter to me than the rich wines we have at home, which always make me sick."

When Violet told how she had made the cordial herself from wild raspberries of her own picking, had pressed the juice out with her own white hands, and that the same hands had made the light biscuit she brought with it, and arranged the tasteful bouquet, and nailed up the luxuriant rosebushes, Narcissa was quite enchanted, and wished she could live as independently herself.

"O," she said, "I am so tired of the noise and confusion at home, and so many new faces, such rich food. If I could live here, Violet, with you!"

"Why not make me a visit? and if you are contented with my simple fare, I shall be very glad to have you stay as long as you will. We might have beautiful times together."

"Are you in earnest?" asked Narcissa, eagerly. "I shall be so happy and so independent here! and I won't be in the way either, for you shall teach me to work, and I can paint, and draw, and play on the piano, and read ever so many languages. All these I will teach you." She smiled, and Violet asked why.

"I was thinking that the accomplishment of which I was proudest once must be taught by some one else."

"Why?"

"Every one praised my dancing; but how in the world could I teach you with my wooden leg? I will learn of you to work, to help others, to find out the best things in books, and the most beautiful things every where.

Why, we shall be like two fairy queens in our little cottage palace."

Narcissa's father, instead of objecting to this plan, was very much pleased with it--said the change would be better than any medicine for the invalid.

CHAPTER XXVI.

SPRING AT THE COTTAGE.

Love and Contentment waved their bright wings now; for the two friends became so fond of each other they were not contented apart. Narcissa even grew beautiful again, there was such a peaceful smile upon her face, and such an earnest, loving look within her eyes.

It was a real pleasure for Violet to comfort and amuse this friend, from whom she was constantly learning some new thing.

Narcissa painted beautifully, and Violet would bring her the freshest and loveliest flowers to copy; so there was hardly a blossom or a green leaf in the neighborhood, from April to November, but you could find it almost living again in their portfolio.

They would watch the birds too, find out all their names, and their different notes, and how they fed and taught their young; and Violet worked in her garden more than ever now, because Narcissa's maid took care of the cottage, and kept it as neat as even its mistress wished.

She had the lawn before the house enclosed in a border shaped like the half of a great ring, and this was planted full of snowdrops, which blossom quite early, you know, and are very delicate and beautiful. It was like a ring of living pearls; and when these wilted, odors began to steal towards the cottage door, which tempted Violet to look under another border thick with green leaves, and there would be more violets than you could count; so the pearl ring changed to one of emerald and amethyst.

Meantime the sweetbrier by the doorway would begin to have pale green buds on its brown stems, and the honeysuckle and bitter-sweet came forth in fresh green shoots, until there were so many new, tender, fragrant leaves, and buds, and blossoms that the birds were sure to select it as the place for their nests.

Narcissa loved to watch them while Violet was busy with her work. A flock of robins would settle upon the plum tree in the garden, peck at the gum, and dig insect eggs out from the bark, and then fly away towards the wood, singing all together; but soon two would steal back to the plum tree, and chirp and twitter to each other, and look at the cottage, and then at the wood, and then at the thickest boughs of the plum.

Presently both would fly together towards the house, one settling on the sweetbrier, and one on the roof, and then on the chimney, and then hop along the porch, and then back both would go to have another talk in the plum tree, and then fly off to find their brothers and sisters in the wood.

But sure as another morning came, back would come the birds too, looking with their little bright eyes all about the cottage, and always settling at last on that one sweetbrier branch.

Then they would begin to bring straws and hair, which they wove together into a soft little nest, working away as busy and happy as birds could be, now and then going back to the plum tree, as if from a distance to admire their tiny home.

Before very long, looking out of the cottage window, you might find the nest full of little cunning eggs; but you could not see these often, for the birds kept them almost constantly sheltered with their own warm b.r.e.a.s.t.s, waiting until the little things within should grow strong enough to break and creep out of their sh.e.l.ls.

All this time the father bird would bring the mother food--bring her ripe cherries, seeds, buds, and worms; and sometimes he would take her place, letting her fly away for a look at the woods, or a drink from the sparkling brook.

But some bright morning you would hear the old birds twittering so joyfully, you might know something had come to pa.s.s; and the first time they flew away, if you looked from the window again, there would be, instead of the eggs, a little heap of the homeliest things in the world, with great eyes, and great legs and claws, and long red necks, and mouths half as large as the bodies, gaping at you--not a feather to be seen except a little down, like whiskers, about their ears.

Birds grow very fast; you would be surprised to find how soon they began to fill, and more than fill, the nest, until some morning one after another would hop out among the sweetbrier stems, and show you their glossy backs and speckled b.r.e.a.s.t.s, while the old birds watched so proud and happy, and began teaching them to fly and to sing.

One morning towards the last of May, when Violet was in the garden transplanting her forget-me-nots, and Narcissa, in the porch, sat watching her, enjoying the cool, fresh air, the new life that budded forth from every thing, and the freedom and joy of the golden orioles as they flashed in and out among the elm boughs, and twittered forth their wild and plaintive melodies, her attention was caught by a stir and fluttering in the sweetbrier, and then a song from the larch tree opposite. These sounds came from two yellow birds, a mother and her little one. The young one would go, "Twe-te-twee," timidly and sweetly, with such a tired tremble at the end; then forth poured the old bird a clear, connected strain, half repeated it, and then paused; and the little sweet voice came again, "Pee-te-wee--pee-te-wee--twee-te-wee."

It was too cunning, and the old bird took up the trembling, broken strain so clearly, with such ease, "Twitter, witter, witter--wee-te-twee-te-twee--twitter, witter, witter"--"Wee-te-twee,"

ended the young one, with that same little tremble in the midst, the same baby sweetness, just such as in a child would make you s.n.a.t.c.h it up and kiss it--"twee-te-wee." Narcissa wondered if there could have been more exquisite music in paradise.

CHAPTER XXVII.

VIOLET'S SCHOLARS.

Violet still had her little school of Narcissa's brothers and sisters; but she was so gentle and patient that study was never very hard to them, though the lessons might be long; and then at recess time the boys would go out and pick cherries, or apples, or plums, from the garden, bring them in on fresh green leaves, and they would all sit in the porch and have a little feast together.

Sat.u.r.day afternoons they would take a walk in the woods; and Violet taught them how to weave oak leaves into crowns, and to make necklaces out of dandelion stems and lilac flowers, and baskets of rushes.

They always took something home to Narcissa, who could not enjoy long walks because of her lameness. One would pick up a pocket full of checkerberries, and one a handful of the young, spicy leaves; and the prettiest branch of hawthorn, the longest-stemmed violets, the largest-leaved bough of oak, were sure to go home for her.