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“What’s the matter, Billy? Why don’t you go and play? You surely deserve a fine holiday, my big, big son.” She put her arm around him tenderly; and he saw that she remembered. He would be thirteen to-morrow. He had been counting the days; but he thought mother and sister had been too busy to think of it. It was coming—to-morrow, Sunday! If he didn’t have a good time to-day it wouldn’t be any birthday at all. “Well, Miss Smith, are you alone here?” As the party, now restored to composure, left the garden, Mrs. Mifsud remarked with her usual aptness, “I occasionally experience premonitions, Mrs. Wopp, that St. Elmo will some day attain celebrity as a clairvoyant.”.
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Directly the invalid’s querulous demand for the rancher was made, Moses started off to fetch him. “Here is Isobel. What kept you so late, young lady?” As Mr. Crump spoke he viewed the young girl with justifiable pride. “Soapsuds is Moses’ strong weakness,” commented Mrs. Wopp, laughing till her fat shoulders quaked perilously. Every back bent a little lower. Every face flushed a little rosier under its coat of grime. Praise from Billy was all they asked..
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