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CHAPTER VI.—AN EVENING IN THE WOPP PARLOR. “O Billy,” his mother laughed, “you need not decide to-night. Besides, it was all Bess’s nonsense. I can’t quite imagine my heedless boy in a pulpit.” “Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid..
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CHAPTER XII.—THE AUTOGRAPH QUILT. By this time, Nell was struggling with a dish of hard underdone crab-apples. She chased a refractory apple round and round in its small dish. Finally, with a feeling of triumph, she brought the apple to a halt. Alas! it did not yield to the prodding of the spoon, but bounced up and with an accuracy worthy of a better cause, landed on the eye of Howard Eliot. Betty, all this time feasting her eyes on the new-comer, and enjoying the unusual opulence of the table, burst into hearty laughter. “Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely. Thus adjured, Howard began, while Mrs. Wopp leaned back in her chair rocking vigorously..
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