from the beautiful paper that Billy had selected. In Granny’s room,
the walls imitated a flowered chintz. But in Maida’s room every
panel was different. And they all helped to tell the same happy
story of a day’s hunting in the time when men wore long feathered
hats on their curls, when ladies dressed like pictures and all
carried falcons on their wrists.

“Granny, Granny,” Maida called down to them, “Did you ever see any
place in all your life that felt so _homey_?”

“I guess it will do,” Billy said in an undertone.

That night, for the first time, Maida slept in the room over the
little shop.





CHAPTER III: THE FIRST DAY


If you had gone into the little shop the next day, you would have
seen a very pretty picture.

First of all, I think you would have noticed the little girl who sat
behind the counter—a little girl in a simple blue-serge dress and a
fresh white “tire”—a little girl with shining excited eyes and
masses of pale-gold hair, clinging in tendrilly rings about a thin,
heart-shaped face—a little girl who kept saying as she turned round