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“Do you know that piece of music called ‘The Rose of Larst Summer’?” inquired the musical connoisseur. After this vigorous onslaught upon the quondam admirer of Nell, Mrs. Wopp ordered Moses to help her prepare the spare room on the ground-floor for the young rancher. Mrs. Bennett continued her gentle, even strokes; bent and kissed him softly before replying. “Duty looks narrow only when it opposes inclination, my child. Selfish people hate duty; but those who live the longest and best lives could tell you that every victory duty wins brings an ever-increasing joy.”.
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Mrs. Bennett bade him good-night, and left him to the stars and the quiet night. Her heart was still sore for the little boy of the past, yet a strange joy came to her; the thoughtful, observant, earnest man had heralded his coming. She should be very proud of him. Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms. “You don’t catch Billy asleep,” said George, siding with the victorious. “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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