“She is an invalid, isn’t she?”

“She _was_,” Maida said with emphasis.

Mrs. Lathrop did not ask any more questions. She went presently into
the back library. An old gentleman sat there, reading.

“That little girl who keeps the store at the corner is in there,
playing with Laura, father,” she said. “I guess her grandmother was
a servant in ‘Buffalo’ Westabrook’s family, for they traveled abroad
a year with the Westabrook family. Evidently, they give her all the
little Westabrook girl’s clothes—she’s dressed quite out of keeping
with her station in life. Curious how refinement rubs off—the child
has really a good deal of manner. I don’t know that I quite like to
have Laura playing with her, though.”

The two little girls returned after awhile to the playroom.

“How would you like to have me dance for you?” Laura asked abruptly.
“You know I take fancy dancing.”

“Oh, Laura,” Maida said delightedly “will you?”

“Of course I will,” Laura said with her most beaming expression.
“You wait here while I go downstairs and get into my costume. Watch
that door, for I shall make my entrance there.”

Maida waited what seemed a long time to her. Then suddenly Laura
came whirling into the room. She had put on a little frock of
pale-blue liberty silk that lay, skirt, bodice and tiny sleeves, in