"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 éclairs?"
"I think it had better be éclairs 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?"