Chapter 3.XII.

But at that moment in the street below a barrel-organ struck up. Josephine
and Constantia sprang to their feet together.

"Run, Con," said Josephine. "Run quickly. There's sixpence on the--"

Then they remembered. It didn't matter. They would never have to stop the
organ-grinder again. Never again would she and Constantia be told to make
that monkey take his noise somewhere else. Never would sound that loud,
strange bellow when father thought they were not hurrying enough. The
organ-grinder might play there all day and the stick would not thump.

"It never will thump again,
It never will thump again,

played the barrel-organ.

What was Constantia thinking? She had such a strange smile; she looked
different. She couldn't be going to cry.

"Jug, Jug," said Constantia softly, pressing her hands together. "Do you
know what day it is? It's Saturday. It's a week to-day, a whole week."

"A week since father died,
A week since father died,"

cried the barrel-organ. And Josephine, too, forgot to be practical and
sensible; she smiled faintly, strangely. On the Indian carpet there fell a