remembered everything. I thought I heard a bird peep once, but I was too busy to think about it.”

“Want to go upstairs?” Billy asked.

“I’d forgotten all about bedrooms.” Maida flew up the stairs as if she had never known a crutch.

The two bedrooms were very simple, all white—woodwork, furniture, beds, even the fur rugs on the floor. But they were wonderfully gay from the beautiful paper that Billy had selected. In Granny’s room, the walls imitated a flowered chintz. But in Maida’s room every panel was different. And they all helped to tell the same happy story of a day’s hunting in the time when men wore long feathered hats on their curls, when ladies dressed like pictures and all carried falcons on their wrists.

“Granny, Granny,” Maida called down to them, “Did you ever see any place in all your life that felt so homey?”

“I guess it will do,” Billy said in an undertone.

That night, for the first time, Maida slept in the room over the little shop.