Anna Maria's Gift Read Online Free PDF

Persian rugs.
    “Please, sit down,” said the old man. “I will tell the count you are here.”
    Anna Maria sat on one of the chairs between the maestro and Sister Lidia. She looked up. The ceiling was painted blue, with fluffy clouds and angels flying up to heaven. It was like being in a church.
    “When I played here, the countess swooned in delight,” said Maestro Vivaldi.
    Just then Count Contarini entered the room. He was a tall man with dark curling hair. “I remember that, Don Vivaldi.”
    Anna Maria’s heart fell. He was not smiling. Nor did he have the violin in hand.
    Maestro Vivaldi stood up and bowed.“Excellency, it has been too long since I played for your illustrious family. I trust you will not deny me the pleasure of returning soon, that I may entertain you with my feeble efforts.”

    Count Contarini squinted at the maestro. But he said nothing.
    “Speaking of feeble efforts,” the maestro went on, “it would give me great joy to dedicate my newest concerto to your noble self.”
    Anna Maria had never heard Maestro Vivaldi talk like this.
Feeble efforts?
Everyone loved his music. Was this what he meant by flattery?
    Maestro Vivaldi bowed again. “Of course that which I offer is a small tribute—”
    “Let us speak frankly, Don Vivaldi,” the count interrupted. “Am I to understand that I have purchased a stolen violin?”
    The maestro sucked in a breath and heldit for a moment. Then he gestured to Anna Maria and Sister Lidia.
    “Excellency, may I present Anna Maria Lombardini, daughter of the great violin maker. And her chaperone, Sister Lidia.”
    Anna Maria watched Sister Lidia and curtsied when she did.
    The count dipped his head in a bow. “So you are Annina.”
    “Sì
, Excellency,” Anna Maria said. Then she clamped her lips together.
    A brief smile crossed his face. But it faded as he turned to Maestro Vivaldi. “Of course I had no idea the violin had been stolen. I paid many gold coins for it as a gift to my daughter. Even now she is having a lesson.”
    He spoke to the old servant. “Please ask Donata to come and bring her violin.”
    They waited in silence until Donata entered. She was a thin, dark-haired girl—herfather’s image. She held the golden instrument in her arms.
    “My violin!” Anna Maria took a step toward her.
    Donata fled from the room.
    Anna Maria clasped her hand over her mouth. Had she ruined everything?
    “I apologize for my daughter’s rude manners,” the count said. “She is quite fond of the violin.”
    “And I apologize for Anna Maria,” said Sister Lidia. “She, too, is quite fond of the violin.”
    Anna Maria wanted to hug Auntie for that.
    “No doubt,” said the count. “But I am sure you understand that my daughter comes first. I will not ask her to give up the violin.”
    Anna Maria stared at Count Contarini, at his thin face and his hard black eyes. Thisman stood between her and Papa’s violin. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She put her face in her hands.
    She could not let this happen. In that moment she heard Papa’s voice in her head.
Annina, play for me
. A bold idea came to her. Maestro Vivaldi could do the talking. But she could do the playing.
    She looked up at the count, blinking away her tears. “Excellency, may I play the violin one last time?”
    He smiled.
“Sì
, of course.” He spoke to the old servant again. “Tell Donata that Anna Maria wishes to play the violin one last time.”
    Donata returned and handed the violin to her father. She stood watching as he gave it to Anna Maria.
    The violin felt warm and alive in her hands. She tucked it under her chin and tuned.
    “What will you play for us?” the count asked.
    “The piece my father asked me to play when he lay on his deathbed,” Anna Maria said.
    There was a stunned silence.
    Anna Maria raised the bow, closed her eyes, and drew in a breath.
    Dum dee-dee dum …
, she played. Her heart seemed to grow and fill her chest.
An-ni-na, An-ni-na
, the violin sang to