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“Orl right, Mar,” answered Moses, dutifully, his mouth watering in anticipation of the goodies in prospect. Mrs. Bennett wished May Nell to be in the open air as much as possible; and this meant a new experience for Billy, which he accepted with tolerable grace. “Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?”.

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Supper passed. Edith went to church, Billy to keep an appointment with his teacher; and the spring twilight settled down over the room. Mrs. Bennett knew this would be a trying hour, and hastened her work, inventing some light task for May Nell; hastened also the errand to her own room. Yet though she was gone but a moment, on returning a sob greeted her from the cuddled heap on the couch. His mood grew more thoughtful. He put the dishes away quietly, and neither spoke again till the work was finished. Then he went and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s good to have you all to myself, little mother; to be just chums once more.” Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them. Behind the Mifsuds followed a few other parishioners..