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Here she produced a picture of a nest of young robins, their beaks wide open for a tempting morsel hanging from the bill of father robin. “When Moses is growed up, Mar, I think it ’ud be jist lovely fer him to be in the Mounted P’lice. He’s so clever at findin’ things an’ he’d look jist grand in the clothes,” enthused Betty. “It’s my fault, too, Mrs. Bennett; don’t put the blame all on Billy,” Jean half sobbed; and hurried after him..
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Although she was asleep, Betty was fully conscious in that Dream-World of love and joy where values are real. Nell and Howard saw a tender smile light up her sweet face as Mrs. Wopp’s singing, subdued by distance, floated into the room, Jean was for following in spite of Billy’s commands; but Mrs. Bennett, full of apprehension, insisted that the girl should go with her; and the two set out in search of help. All heads bowed as the compliant master of the house, with thin nervous hands outspread and in a voice quavering with piety, responded to this request. Moses of the freckled face and pale blue eyes, kept one eye open as grace was being said, in order to scan the bounteous display on the table. Furtively he chose the largest bun on the plate that was placed close to Betty, his little foster-sister. To annex the most corpulent pickle would require some slight manœuvring, but he felt sure it could be managed. “Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp..
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