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Clank! Clank! Clank!,“Put her in my room and give me the Fo’castle; I’ve always wanted to bunk there.”,Supper over and dishes hurried out of sight, the floor was once more cleared and the real business of the evening was resumed.,CHAPTER XVI THE BRIDGE TO SAFETY,“This peacock,” went on Betty, showing the picture of a bird with plumed tail outspread, “is the white peacock of the moon. It lives in the moon, but when fairies want to come to play with li’l girls, they harness the peacock an’ drive down to earth in a silver chariot.”,“Billy, ask Mr. Patton to let her come to your house! There aren’t any boys.” Jean’s voice trembled with eagerness.,With the gracious air of a duchess, Maria Mifsud dropped into the oat-bin about a peck of the vegetables. They were coiffured and manicured correctly and doubtless considered themselves the elite of the carota species.,The pianist sat easily at the piano and began the Moskowski selection that had failed to create the expected furore in the afternoon. A cadenza that shivered down the spine like spray from a glacial torrent wakened the room. Then he plunged into the first theme. His small audience listened spell-bound. Betty’s eyes followed the fingers that leaped over the ivory keys like white flame. A subtle current began to play in the room. Steadily it grew in power. Magnetism to the nth degree was being generated. A tremendous chord brought the music to a close and the pianist to his feet. Something in Nell’s glance inspired him. He whirled about the room whistling and imitating some of the cadenzas and other passages from the selection just played. He gesticulated wildly with his hands, the passion for dramatic music oozing from his pores.,Betty was thoroughly engrossed in her subject. Her story was entirely of birds and flowers and fairies. True, the pictures did not realize in their movements the lightning-like rapidity of “really truly” moving pictures, but they moved as fast as the young eyes that followed them could wish.,“All over the house does she put them?” the child asked after she had snipped a fragrant heap.,“Every tub must stan’ on its own bottom,” commented Mrs. Wopp. But even as she spoke, an unmistakable expression of gratified pride spread over her large motherly countenance.,Nell’s answer was somehow strangely muffled..