In the narrow street where the
seamstress lived she could hear the music distinctly, for no wagons
passed, and the voices of foot-passengers did not reach up so high as to
her room. So Dora listened to the sweet melodies which were her only
refreshment during those hot long hours, and even the running scales were
a pleasure to her ear. But then the thought of her father came back to
her, and she felt bitterly the terrible contrast between these hot lonely
afternoons and those which she used to spend with him under the cool shade
of the lindens. Then she thought of that glorious sunset, and of her
father, as he stood transfigured in the golden light. She remembered his
comforting words, his assurance that some day they two and the mother
would stand thus together, shining in the eternal light of Heaven. But
Dora sighed at the thought of the long weary time before she should join
them, unless indeed some accident should happen to her, or she should fall
ill and die, from this too heavy task of shirt-making.
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