“No,” the boy said soberly.  “I can’t go yet.  Doc O’Brien says I can go next year, he thinks.  I’m wild to go.  The other fellows hate school but I love it.  I s’pose it’s because I can’t go that I want to.  But, then, I want to learn to read.  A fellow can have a good time anywhere if he knows how to read.  I can read some,” he added in a shamed tone, “but not much.  The trouble is I don’t have anybody to listen and help with the hard words.”

“Oh, let me help you!” Maida cried.  “I can read as easy as anything.”  This was the second thing she regretted saying.  For when she came to think of it, she could not see where she was going to have much time to herself.

But the little lame boy shook his head.  “Can’t,” he said decidedly.  “You see, I’m busy at home all day long and you’ll be busy here.  My mother works out and I have to do most of the housework and take care of the baby.  Pretty slow work on crutches, you know—­although it’s easy enough getting round after you get the hang of it.  No, I really don’t have any time to fool until evenings.”

“Evenings!” Maida exclaimed electrically.  “Why, that’s just the right time!  You see I’m pretty busy myself during the daytime—­at my business.”  Her voice grew a little important on that last phrase.  “Granny!  Granny!” she called.

Granny Flynn appeared in the doorway.  Her eyes grew soft with pity when they fell on the little lame boy.  “The poor little gossoon!” she murmured.

“Granny,” Maida explained, “this little boy can’t go to school because his mother works all day and he has to do the housework and take care of the baby, too, and he wants to learn to read because he thinks he won’t be half so lonely with books, and you know, Granny, that’s perfectly true, for I never suffered half so much with my legs after I learned to read.”

It had all poured out in an uninterrupted stream.  She had to stop here to get breath.

“Now, Granny, what I want you to do is to let me hear him read evenings until he learns how.  You see his mother comes home then and he can leave the baby with her.  Oh, do let me do it, Granny!  I’m sure I could.  And I really think you ought to.  For, if you’ll excuse me for saying so, Granny, I don’t think you can understand as well as I do what a difference it will make.”  She turned to the boy.  “Have you read ‘Little Men’ and ’Little Women’?”

“No—­why, I’m only in the first reader.”

“I’ll read them to you,” Maida said decisively, “and ’Treasure Island’ and ‘The Princes and the Goblins’ and ’The Princess and Curdie.’” She reeled off the long list of her favorites.

In the meantime, Granny was considering the matter.  Dr. Pierce had said to her of Maida:  “Let her do anything that she wants to do—­as long as it doesn’t interfere with her eating and sleeping.  The main thing to do is to get her to want to do things.”

“What’s your name, my lad?” she asked.