Maida's Little Shop Part 15

Maida knew what they were talking about-Granny had often told her the sad story of her lost daughter.

"What town in Ireland did you live in, Granny?" Billy asked.

"Aldigarey, County Sligo." "Now don't you get discouraged, Granny,"

Billy said, "I'm going to find your daughter for you."

He jumped to his feet and walked about the room. "I'm something of a detective myself, and you'll see I'll make good on this job if it takes twenty years."

"Oh, Billy, do-please do," Maida burst in. "It will make Granny so happy."

Granny seemed happier already. She dried her tears.

"'Tis the good b'y ye are, Misther Billy," she said gratefully.

"Yes, m'm," said Billy.

CHAPTER VII: TROUBLE

The next week was a week of trouble for Maida. Everything seemed to go wrong from the first tinkle of the bell, Monday morning, to the last tinkle Sat.u.r.day night.

It began with a conversation.

Rosie came marching in early Monday, head up, eyes flaming.

"Maida," she began at once, in her quickest, briskest tone, "I've got something to tell you. Laura Lathrop came over to d.i.c.ky's house the other day while the W.M.N.T.'s were meeting and she told us the greatest mess of stuff about you. I told her I was coming right over and tell you about it and she said, 'All right, you can.' Laura said that you said that last summer you had a birthday party that you invited five hundred children to. She said that you said that you had a May-pole at this party and a fish pond and a Punch and Judy show and all sorts of things. She said that you said that you had a big doll-house and a little theater all your own. I said that I didn't believe that you told her all that. Did you?"

"Oh, yes, I told her that-and more," Maida answered directly.

"Laura said it was all a pack of lies, but I don't believe that. Is it all true?"

"It's all true," Maida said.

Rosie looked at her hard. "You know, Maida," she went on after awhile, "you told me about a lot of birds and animals that your father had. I thought he kept a bird-place. But d.i.c.ky says you told him that your father had twelve peac.o.c.ks, not in a store, but in a place where he lives." She paused and looked inquiringly at Maida.

Maida answered the look. "Yes, I told him that."

"And it's all true?" Rosie asked again.

"Yes, it's all true," Maida repeated.

Rosie hesitated a moment. "Harold Lathrop says that you're daffy."

Maida said nothing.

"Arthur Duncan says," Rosie went on more timidly, "that you probably dreamed those things."

Still Maida said nothing.

"Do you think you did dream them, Maida?"

Maida smiled. "No, I didn't dream them."

"Well, I thought of another thing," Rosie went on eagerly. "Miss Allison told mother that Granny told her that you'd been sick for a long time. And I thought, maybe you were out of your head and imagined those things. Oh, Maida," Rosie's voice actually coaxed her to favor this theory, "don't you think you imagined them?"

Maida laughed. "No, Rosie," she said in her quietest voice, "I did not imagine them."

For a moment neither of the two little girls spoke. But they stared, a little defiantly, into each other's eyes.

"What did d.i.c.ky say?" Maida asked after awhile.

"Oh, d.i.c.ky said he would believe anything you told him, no matter what it was. d.i.c.ky says he believes you're a princess in disguise-like in fairy-tales."

"Dear, dear d.i.c.ky!" Maida said. "He was the first friend I made in Primrose Court and I guess he's the best one."

"Well, I guess I'm your friend," Rosie said, firing up; "I told that little smarty-cat of a Laura if she ever said one word against you, I'd slap her good and hard. Only-only-it seems strange that a little girl who's just like the rest of us should have story-book things happening to her all the time. If it's true-then fairy-tales are true." She paused and looked Maida straight in the eye. "I can't believe it, Maida. But I know you believe it. And that's all there is to it. But you'd better believe I'm your friend."

Saying which she marched out.

Maida's second trouble began that night.

It had grown dark. Suddenly, without any warning, the door of the shop flew open. For an instant three or four voices filled the place with their yells. Then the door shut. Nothing was heard but the sound of running feet.

Granny and Maida rushed to the door. n.o.body was in sight.

"Who was it? What does it mean, Granny?" Maida asked in bewilderment. "Only naughty b'ys, taysing you," Granny explained.

Maida had hardly seated herself when the performance was repeated.

Again she rushed to the door. Again she saw n.o.body. The third time she did not stir from her chair.

Tuesday night the same thing happened. Who the boys were Maida could not find out. Why they bothered her, she could not guess.

"Take no notuce av ut, my lamb," Granny counselled. "When they foind you pay no attintion to ut, they'll be afther stopping."

Maida followed Granny's advice. But the annoyance did not cease and she began to dread the twilight. She made up her mind that she must put an end to it soon. She knew she could stop it at once by appealing to Billy Potter. And, yet, somehow, she did not want to ask for outside help. She had a feeling of pride about handling her own troubles.

One afternoon Laura came into the shop. It was the first time that Maida had seen her since the afternoon of her call and Maida did not speak. She felt that she could not have anything to do with Laura after what had happened. But she looked straight at Laura and waited.

Laura did not speak either. She looked at Maida as if she had never seen her before. She carried her head at its highest and she moved across the room with her most important air. As she stood a moment gazing at the things in the show case, she had never seemed more patronizing.

"A cent's worth of dulse, please," she said airily.

"Dulse?" Maida repeated questioningly; "I guess I haven't any. What is dulse?"