Watching little Sarah as she ran alongside Adelaide, her doll that wasn't so new but went everywhere with the girl, her pale plaited pigtails flapping the same way Sarah's did, Stella felt a trace of self sympathy. She scolded herself. She had such a good life now, good food, pennies upon pennies in a bank at home, always new dresses because a dressmaker could never look shabby. She missed Hannah deeply of course but with Aloysius out of her life now, except at night when she lay sound asleep in a bed made of fresh hay from the farmer's wife in exchange for a bonnet Stella realized that if she could make that much progress in little less than a year, even in a town filled to the brim with the poor who could not afford too many dresses, buying anyway because of Stella's prices, then Aloysius truly was the only thing holding her down. But still, even with the company of the friendly cusdtomers like Mme. Bolle things got lonely without a friend or even her mother. There was little Sarah, of course, and Adelaide sometimes but Stella wished profoundly for a friend her own age.
And, cliché as it is, her prayer was answered. Stella believed very deeply that her growing religiousness, or, better put, quiet spirituality, was the cause of it all. His name was Arwin and he looked a bit like a tall, skinny scarecrow, a bit like Jack Skellington with skin, and a bit Ichabod Crane. In any case he had big limbs, knees that looked like a doll's leg's folding and scruffy almost auburn hair.
"Hello," he said simply one day. "I'm Arwin, call me that. You're Stella, I've heard." Stella could tell he was demanding and not a big talker. Ironically, he thought his dull weatherman conversations the very best in Germany.
"Yes," agreed Stella, smiling cheerfully. Arwin lifted the corners of his mouth to attempt a smile, stretching the whole of his skinny but round face like bread dough. "Are you new around here?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.
"I've been here a month and I've visited before." He gave no clue as to where his old home was.
"I've lived here my whole life." Stella caught herself. Was she being boring? Was she going to scare away the only friend she'd ever had? Why hadn't Aloysius- oh! She dared not think about Aloysius. She'd surely chase Arwin away if she began to cry. "I make dresses. She smiled again, but then stopped, afraid she'd look fake. Arwin looked at her like a gossiping cow.
'Oh, no!' thought Stella. 'Awkward silence!'
"Do you go to school? I work, making dresses and things. I used to- only make simple things but I learned quickly." Stella decided not to put in that she used to be a matchgirl. No, he might feel sorry for her, and that certainly wasn't friendship. And Stella could never take a too cold reaction to her pain. It was too much.
"I used to." He answered. He smiled, the kind of smile someone makes before a corny joke, except on his face it looked more like French bread. "I don't wear dresses." Stella giggled, pushing the cart of precious gowns closer to her. Should she laugh harder?
"I'd better be off. I shall see you." Arwin said. Stella squealed. A friend! A real live friend! The whole day Stella was happy with herself for once, not just the joy she got when she talked to others. She imagined Arwin doing daily things, like school or playing in a tree. People's lives certainly were strange things but Stella was learning. And the best part was that throughout that whole day the only time she thought of Aloysius was when she had been talking to Arwin.