"
"I will go and see her some day," said Phil. "I wish I could see
her now."
"When will you go?"
"I don't know; when I am older."
"But where is your fiddle, Filippo?" asked Lucia. "Do you not
play?"
Filippo glanced at the organ-grinder, whom he did not dare to
take into his confidence. So he answered, evasively:
"Another boy took it. I shall get another this afternoon."
"Are you with the padrone?"
"Yes."
"Come, Lucia," said the man, roughly, ceasing to play, "we must
go on."
Lucia followed her companion obediently, reluctant to leave Phil,
with whom she desired to converse longer; but the latter saw that
her guardian did not wish the conversation to continue, and so
did not follow.
This unexpected meeting with Lucia gave him much to think of. It
carried back his thoughts to his humble, but still dear, Italian
home, and the mother from whom he had never met with anything but
kindness, and a longing to see both made him for the moment
almost sad. But he was naturally of a joyous temperament, and
hope soon returned.
"I will save money enough to go home," he said to himself. "It
will not take very much-- not more than fifty dollars.
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