an' grandpa would say so, but I'm glad I did, 'cause you
needn't worry no more 'bout Bonny Angel an' me. I will start right off.
I was going to, to-morrow, anyway, if she didn't get sick again; an'
Mis' Fogarty will have to leave us these clothes till--till--I can some
time--some day--maybe earn some for myself. Then I'll get 'em sent back,
somehow, an'----"

By this time, Mary was also upon her feet, tearful and compassionate and
fain to turn her eyes away from the sad, brave little face that
confronted her. Yet not even her pity could fathom the longing of this
vagrant "Queen" for her dirty Lane and her loyal subjects; nor how she
shrank in terror from the lonely search she knew she must yet continue,
thinking, "'Cause grandpa would never have give me up if I was lost and
I never will him, never, never, never! But if only Billy, er Nick,
er----"

Mrs. Fogarty interrupted the little girl's thoughts with the remark,
"Now them 'Asylums' is just beautiful, honey darlin'--an' you'll be as
happy as the day is long. You'll----"

It was Glory's turn to interrupt the cooing voice, which, indeed, she
had scarcely heard, because of another sound which had come to her ear;
and it was now a countenance glorified in truth by unlooked-for
happiness that they saw, as with uplifted hand and parted lips, she
strove to catch the distant strains of music which seemed sent to check
her grief.

"Hark! Hark! Listen! Sh-h-h!" cried the girl.

"Bless us, colleen! Have ye lost your seventy senses, laughin' an'
cryin' to onct, like a daft creatur'?" demanded Timothy, amazed.

She did not stop to answer him but gently placing Bonny Angel in his
arms, sped away down the road, crying ecstatically, "Luigi! Luigi!"

CHAPTER XII

News From The Lane

"Hmm, hmm, indeed! An' what is 'Loo-ee-gy' anyhow? An' what is the noise
I hear save one them wore-out hurdy-gurdies, that do be roamin' the
country over, soon's ever the town gets too hot to hold 'em? Wouldn't
'pear that a nice spoken little girl as yon would be takin' up with no
Eyetalian organ-grinder," grumbled Timothy, a trifle jealously. Already
he felt a sort of proprietorship in Glory and the "Angel" and had
revolved in his mind for several nights--that is when he could keep
awake--what he could do to help her. He was as reluctant to place her in
any institution against her will as she was to have him, but he had not
known what else to propose to Mary's common sense suggestion.