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Later in the evening, as Isobel moved about the drawing-room in a flounced white frock, her shimmering hair falling over her shoulders, and her dainty high-heeled silver-buckled shoes skimming the roses on the carpet, Moses’ eyes followed her in wonderment. Never before had he seen a creature so dainty, so airy, and so altogether like a princess. Betty was just plain Betty, straight hair plaited stiffly and tied with red ribbon, tanned face and hands, and big brown eyes “looking like they loved everybody.” But here was a girl who could turn disdainful hazel eyes on one and could make one feel like an ignoble worm. Somehow Moses liked feeling like a worm, Isobel Crump was so immeasureably above him that he might as well feel like a worm as like any other more noble inhabitant of this terrestrial globe.,

Mrs. Bennett smiled at her mistake and went in, while Billy took up his mower. The girls looked at one another in the mute scrutiny children bestow on newcomers, May Nell the least embarrassed of the three.,

“The p’licemen do hev a fine look,” agreed Mrs. Wopp. “Fine feathers causes fine birds. Sometimes when the feathers is taken orff there aint nothin’ much left. That Plymouth Rock hen I plucked yesterday looked good walkin’ round the yard, but, Lan’ Sakes! when I’d plucked her she was nothin’ but skin an’ bones.” The good lady had no desire to underrate that useful body of men, the guardians of the law, but she considered it wise to exercise a constantly restraining influence on the vanities of youth.,

Suddenly, all heads were raised and a sigh of satisfaction escaped Mrs. Wopp’s lips.

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Mrs. Newman and Nell waited after the show for the unique trio that had occupied the box but they were nowhere to be seen. Howard Eliot had whisked his companions off under a pretext of urgent business.,

May Nell had learned to use the towel; and the two children usually “did” the dishes at night; but now she was away with Edith at the Opera House, and mother and son were alone in the kitchen.,

Edith came in dressed for church.,

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.