Chapter 3 The Old Organ-Man by L. T. Meade
GLAD TIDINGS
"I must not leave my barrel-organ in the street," said Antonio to thechild; "will you let me take it home first, missy? and then I can take youback to your father."
Little Mona, holding Antonio's hand, and walking by his side in the midstof the rabble, was a totally different child from Mona, standing by herselfunder the street lamp.
"I shall like to see your home, organ-man," she said in her sweet voice."Do you really live in an attic? Marcia and her mother live in an attic inItaly, too, and Marcia likes it."
Then they walked through the streets together, and Mona went upstairs withAntonio. She seemed quite contented in the funny little place, and sat downon a low seat with a sigh of satisfaction.
"I am so glad I met you, organ-man, and I like your home. I would muchrather live here with you than go back to Janet. I am dreadfully afraid ofJanet, and I sometimes think my father will never come. I wish I could livewith you, organ-man," continued little Mona in a piteous voice, "for youcould talk to me about Italy, where my dear mamma died, and oh! organ-man,you do remind me of Marcia."
"I once had two Marcias," said old Antonio in a grave and troubled voice;"the little one is with God, and the wife whom I love, I don't know whatshelter she is finding for her gray hairs. It troubles me to hear you speakof Marcia, missy. It brings back painful memories."
The child had a thoughtful and serious face; she now fixed her eyes on oldAntonio, and did not speak.
"And I must take you home," continued the old man. "I should like to keepyou with me, my little bright missy, but suppose your good father hasreturned, fancy his agony."
"If I could think my father had come, how glad I should be!" said littleMona, and she went over to Antonio and took his hand. It was not a verylong way from Antonio's attic to the house in B---- Square.
Antonio was too old and too feeble to carry the little girl all the way. Hewould have liked to do so, for the feel of her little arms round his neck,and her soft brown cheek pressed to his, brought the strangest peace andcomfort to his heart.
Antonio had not had such a good time since he left Italy, and he could nothelp feeling, in some inexplicable way, that he was going back to Marcia.
At last they reached the house, and the old organ-man's ring was speedilyanswered. Immediately there was a shout of delight and a great bustle, andlittle Mona was almost torn from her companion and carried into adining-room, which was very bright with firelight and gaslight.
Antonio, standing on the hall-door steps, heard some very tender and lovingwords addressed in a manly voice to the little girl.
Then he said to himself, "The dear little one's father has come and herheart will be at rest." And he began slowly to go down the steps, and toturn back to a world which was once more quite sunless and cold.
But this was not to be, for little Mona's voice arrested him, and both sheand her father brought him into the house and into the warm dining-room.There Mr. Sinclair shook his hand, and thanked him many times, and tried toexplain to him something of the agony he had undergone when he had listenedto the terrified Janet's confession, and had discovered that his only childwas gone.
"I too have lost a child," said old Antonio. "I can sympathize with yourfeelings, sir."
"But you have got to tell my father all that story of the Marcia with grayhair," said little Mona. She was a totally different child now, hertimidity and fear were gone, she danced about, and put Antonio into a snugchair, and insisted once more on his telling his story.
When he had finished, Mr. Sinclair said a few words: "I believe God'sprovidence sent you here to-night in a double sense, and I begin to see myway to pay you back in some measure for what you have done for me. Theyoung girl who so devotedly nursed my wife during her long illness wascalled Marcia. We wished to bring her to England, for my child loved hermuch, but we could not induce her to go away from an old mother of the samename. She often told us what hard times this mother had undergone, and howher heart was almost broken for her husband, who had gone away to Englandto seek his fortune, but had never come back. Now, can it be possible thatthese two Marcias are yours, and that the man who said your child was deadwas mistaken?"
"It may be so," said old Antonio, whose face had grown very white. "Oh!sir, if ever you go back to Naples could you find out from that Marcia withgray hairs if the husband she laments was one Antonio, an old man, whoplayed Italian airs?"
"My child and I are going back to Naples next week," said Mr. Sinclair,"and suppose you come with us and find out for yourself, Antonio."