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IT was a gray, cold day, unusual for May, the kind of day that accords with ill-nature. It reminded Billy of the incident of the opera when Rain and Storm, driven by his own insistence, had blown in on the stage quite out of season, and dragged off with them the remnants of winter. For the first Sunday since May Nell’s coming he took his wheel after dinner and went off alone. He was in accord with the sullen sky and air. In the morning he had answered his mother angrily; because Bouncer wished to play instead of coming through the gate when called, Billy had slammed it on his tail, knowing well that in a happier mood he would have been more careful. “Golly! They’re working all night. I—ought to—help—to-morrow. I—” He slept again with his good resolution half made. Ebenezer Wopp sat at the head of the table. Beaming from behind a promising array of cups and saucers, his portly wife presented a countenance of aggressive hospitality. In height and girth Mrs. Wopp had much the advantage of her husband..
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Conrad
“And you’re my Ladybird sister,” Billy said, very softly for him, and threw his arm about them both. In the very centre of the room stood a small table swathed in a hand-painted felt drape. On this reposed the huge family Bible in which was chronicled the marriages, births and deaths of the Wopp family during the last three generations. The hours passed in an uproar of fun. The table was dismantled, toys, tools, and dishes put away, and the feast had sped into the past. “Only for a day, dear. I’ll be back to-night.”.
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