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The clearer air revived Billy, and he was soon walking without help, coming shortly to the road where the wagons waited; coming in sight of Ellen’s Isle. “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. Mrs. Bennett knew better than Billy how much thumping a boy could live through; and reassured him while she took off his soiled garments, and started below for hot water and remedies..

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On such visits Mrs. Wopp enjoyed herself hugely. Her volubility was overpowering; as Mrs. Mifsud had been known to remark, “Not even a comma was there to clutch at to make good ones escape.” The faster her needle flew the faster raced her tongue. In view of the impending visit Mrs. Mifsud had surreptitiously stuffed one ear with cotton batting so that in the event of an extremely sanguinary onslaught, so to speak, at least one rampart of defence could be instantaneously thrown up. Ebenezer Wopp unlike his wife was expecting nothing but an afternoon of self-effacement though prepared to secretly admire to the full Mrs. Wopp’s sprightly conversation. “Three you should say. Don’t you live in the dreamland of music? Eat your own breakfast, or you’ll be late for the train.” The Snake Charmer was silenced; for if the children had before this been tired, not one of them now but swelled with pride and fortitude at this praise from Billy. Everything at the dinner table was in keeping to Betty’s eyes, from the translucent china cups to the dainty blown bubbles of confection served with ice-cream; all so fragile that even one of her small brown fingers might crush them. She laughed as she thought of the annihilating effect, should Moses appear. The ices and the angel cake and the concocted kisses of whiteof-egg confirmed in her mind the suspicion that her wonderful holiday was a dream. “So your name is Betty Wopp?”.