friend I've got anywhere. Arthur hasn't any mother, and his father's
gone all day. He takes care of himself. He comes over to my place a
lot. You'll like him when you know him."

The bell tinkling on his departure did not ring again till noon. But
Maida did not mind.

"Granny," she said after Dicky left, "I think I've made a friend.
Not a friend somebody's brought to me--but a friend of my very own.
Just think of that!"

At twelve, Maida watched the children pour out of the little
schoolhouse and disappear in all directions. At two, she watched
them reappear from all directions and pour into it again. But
between those hours she was so busy that she did not have time to
eat her lunch until school began again. After that, she sat
undisturbed for an hour.

In the middle of the afternoon, the bell rang with an
important-sounding tinkle. Immediately after, the door shut with an
important-sounding slam. The footsteps, clattering across the room to
the show case, had an important-sounding tap. And the little girl, who
looked inquisitively across the counter at Maida, had decidedly an
important manner.

She was not a pretty child. Her skin was too pasty, her blue eyes
too full and staring. But she had beautiful braids of glossy brown
hair that came below her waist. And you would have noticed her at
once because of the air with which she wore her clothes and because
of a trick of holding her head very high.

Maida could see that she was dressed very much more expensively than
the other children in the neighborhood. Her dark, blue coat was
elaborate with straps and bright buttons. Her pale-blue beaver hat
was covered with pale-blue feathers. She wore a gold ring with a
turquoise in it, a silver bracelet with a monogram on it, a little
gun-metal watch pinned to her coat with a gun-metal pin, and a long
string of blue beads from which dangled a locket.

Maida noticed all this decoration with envy, for she herself was
never permitted to wear jewelry. Occasionally, Granny would let her
wear one string from a big box of bead necklaces which Maida had
bought in Venice.

"How much is that candy?" the girl asked, pointing to one of the
trays.

Maida told her.

"Dear me, haven't you anything better than that?"

Maida gave her all her prices.

"I'm afraid there's nothing good enough here," the little girl went
on disdainfully. "My mother won't let me eat cheap candy. Generally,
she has a box sent over twice a week from