"Glad you've come, little girl! Glad to see you," he said heartily. "Come and look at your cubby and tell me what you think of it. _I_ think it great." While he talked Mr. Porter led the way to the rear of the Arcade. As they drew near the stairway, Miss Willing glanced up, gave an indifferent nod in answer to Constance's "How do you do, Miss Willing?" and turned to her 'phone. Miss Willing much preferred being the center of attraction beneath the stairs, and was not enthusiastic over the thought of sharing her corner with "one of them big-bugs, as they think themselves." Could she have known it, this girl, whom she was so stigmatizing, felt herself a very tiny bug indeed in the world in which Miss Willing dwelt, and secretly stood in considerable awe of the young lady who could look with so much self-assurance into the eyes of the patrons of her 'phone booth, and smile and joke with old and young men alike. There were always several around the booth. Constance wondered why they seemed to have to wait so long to have their calls answered. Her own 'phone calls at home were answered so promptly. However, while these sub-conscious thoughts passed through her brain, the more wide-awake portion of it was taking in the changed appearance of her cubby's corner.
Mr. Porter had lost no time and spared no trouble, and the Arcade's carpenter to whom he had given instructions to "do that job in shape and mighty quick," had followed those instructions to a dot. There was the cubby, the wood all carefully painted in white enamel, the portable shelves made of sheets of heavy glass. A high railing and gate shut off one end, giving ingress to the proprietor, and privacy if she wished at any time to stay at her counter for awhile. On the lower shelf of the counter stood a little cash box divided into two sections: One for bills the other for silver. Just above it was a small white sign upon which was plainly painted in dark blue letters:
"Constance B.'s Candies." Take what you wish. Leave cost of goods taken. Make your change from my cash box. Respecting my patrons' integrity, Constance B. C. Kindly close the door.
Constance clasped her hands and gave a little cry of delight. All her ideas were so perfectly carried out.