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After these followed Jean as Rain. Wherever she passed the singers bowed their heads and sang more softly, and Frost retreated in haste. Balancing her voice on a very high note she popped her head through the dining-room door to speak to her husband. He was seated at the table reading “The Family Herald.” His straggling grey locks were disordered with his mental effort and formed a frieze of irregular design on his shining forehead. Mrs. Wopp’s voice, in a moment, was safe on terra firma. Mrs. Bennett called. The cats walked leisurely to the hearth, sat down, one on either side, and began to eat, each from his own side of the plate. They were as deliberate and dainty as well-bred children..
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It was Mrs. Wopp’s voice. From her remarks one would gather that the rarest perfumes wafted on the winds invoked by Solomon could never seem so sweet to Woppian nostrils as the mingled odor of hay and freshly dug carrots. “Oh Mosey,” cried Betty at the breakfast table, being first on the scene to arrange her flowers, “we’ll hev a spellin’ match to-day I bet.” “I suppose you have a large farm, Mr. Wopp,” said Nell Gordon. But Mrs. Bennett wasn’t blaming any one; she didn’t really know what the excitement was all about..
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