."

"I did feel bad when I heard those things," Maida said, "but of
course I forgot about them when Rosie told me you were ill. Let's
forget all about it again."

But Maida told the W.M.N.T.'s something of her talk with Laura and
the result was an invitation to Laura to join the club. It was
accepted gratefully.

The next month went by on wings. It was a busy month although in a
way, it was an uneventful one. The weather kept clear and fine.
Little rain fell but, on the other hand, to the great disappointment
of the little people of Primrose Court, there was no snow. Maida saw
nothing of her father for business troubles kept him in New York. He
wrote constantly to her and she wrote as faithfully to him. Letters
could not quite fill the gap that his absence made. Perhaps Billy
suspected Maida's secret loneliness for he came oftener and oftener
to see her.

One night the W.M.N.T.'s begged so hard for a story that he finally
began one called "The Crystal Ball." A wonderful thing about it was
that it was half-game and half-story. Most wonderful of all, it went
on from night to night and never showed any signs of coming to an
end. But in order to play this game-story, there were two or three
conditions to which you absolutely must submit. For instance, it
must always be played in the dark. And first, everybody must shut
his eyes tight. Billy would say in a deep voice, "Abracadabra!" and,
presto, there they all were, Maida, Rosie, Laura, Billy, Arthur and
Dicky inside the crystal ball. What people lived there and what
things happened to them can not be told here. But after an hour or
more, Billy's deepest voice would boom, "Abracadabra!" again and,
presto, there they all were again, back in the cheerful living-room.

Maida hoped against hope that her father would come to spend
Thanksgiving with her but that, he wrote finally, was impossible.
Billy came, however, and they three enjoyed one of Granny's
delicious turkey dinners.

"I hoped that I would have found your daughter Annie by this time,
Granny," Billy said. "I ask every Irishman I meet if he came from
Aldigarey, County Sligo or if he knows anybody who did, or if he's
ever met a pretty Irish girl by the name of Annie Flynn. But I'll
find her yet--you'll see."

"I hope so, Misther Billy," Granny said respectfully. But Maida
thought her voice sounded as if she had no great hope.

Dicky still continued to come for his reading-lessons, although
Maida could see th