ame into the child's face.

"He would like to get out," she said sadly; "I wish he could."

"Yes, indeed, I don't wonder; it's just grand in the park these warm
afternoons. My two little boys about live there. If you could take him
out for a drive sometimes, it would do him a lot of good, I'm sure."

Before the child could answer, the door of the bakery opened, and two
more customers, a lady and a little girl of nine or ten, came in.

"Well, Winnie," said the lady smiling, as they approached the counter,
"have you decided which it is to be to-day, macaroons or chocolate
eclairs?"

"I think it had better be eclairs to-day, we had macaroons three times
last week," the little girl said, laughing, and glancing with an
expression of interest at the first customer, who had now received her
package, and was turning to leave the store. "Oh, mother," she added
eagerly, as the door closed, "did you see? that's the little girl who
lives in our house."

"Was it really?" the lady inquired, looking interested in her turn; "I
didn't notice her."

"Oh, yes, I'm quite sure; I've seen her several times on the stairs, you
know. I wish she hadn't gone so quick; I should have liked to speak to
her. It seems so queer not to know a person who lives in the same house
that you do, doesn't it?"

"And a very nice little girl she is too," put in the young woman behind
the counter, glad of an opportunity to say a good word for one of her
favorite customers. "She often comes in here, and we serve the family
with bread. They live in the apartment house on the corner."

"That's where we live," said Winifred; "do you know what the little
girl's name is?"

"Yes; it's Randall, Betty Randall; she told me so herself the other day.
Her mother's a very handsome lady, quite stylish-looking, though I
believe she gives lessons of some kind. She's a widow, with two
children, this one and a little boy, who is a cripple. It's my opinion
they've seen better days. Shall I send these things, ma'am, or will you
take them with you?"

"I will take them, thank you. Come, Winifred."

"Mother," said Winifred, as they left the bakery, "I really do wish I
knew that little girl. She has a very nice face, and if her brother is a
cripple, I might go and read to him sometimes. You know I'm very fond of
cripples."

The lady laughed.

"Well, you may speak to the child, if you like," she said kindly. "I
scarcely know whether it would do for you to call on the fami