unpopular.

After a day or two her life fell into a regular programme.

Early in the morning she would put the shop to rights for the day’s
sale, dusting, replacing the things she had sold, rearranging them
often according to some pretty new scheme.

About eight o’clock the bell would call her into the shop and it
would be brisk work until nine. Then would come a rest of three
hours, broken only by an occasional customer. In this interval she
often worked in the yard, raking up the leaves that fell from vine
and bush, picking the bravely-blooming dahlias, gathering sprays of
woodbine for the vases, scattering crumbs to the birds.

At twelve the children would begin to flood the shop again and Maida
would be on her feet constantly until two. Between two and four came
another long rest. After school trade started up again. Often it
lasted until six, when she locked the door for the night.

In her leisure moments she used to watch the people coming and going
in Primrose Court. With Rosie’s and Dicky’s help, she soon knew
everybody by name. She discovered by degrees that on the right side
of the court lived the Hales, the Clarks, the Doyles and the Dores;
on the left side, the Duncans, the Brines and the Allisons. In the
big house at the back lived the Lathrops.

Betsy was a great delight to Maida, for the neighborhood brimmed
with stories of her mischief. She had buried her best doll in the
ash-barrel, thrown her mother’s pocketbook down the cesspool, put