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A low rumble of thunder was heard in the distance and a flash of lightning made the coal-oil lamp look like a bilious spot in the room. “Do you live here?” she questioned with an irrepressible shudder. CHAPTER I.—MRS. WOPP’S HOSPITALITY..
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“It’s my doin’s, Mar,” said Betty, “I made it orl up outer my head.” “They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp. “Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp. Notwithstanding Moses’ endeavors to be attractive, Isobel Crump’s voice, as she addressed her brother’s friend was so frigid that her words penetrated his ear like sharply-pointed icicles..
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