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Betty, who had understanding, was not turned from the subject of her thoughts.,It must have been hours past midnight when Billy’s chattering voice startled his mother. She had heard no bell; the boy himself stood by her bedside; she could see him dimly against the window.,And gents your black and tan,,“Never min’, Pete, an’ thank you anyways, but sence the lesson’s a hull lot about the sea, I’ll jist write with blue chork.”,Betty staggered with her burden out into the garden to leave with her flowers the benediction of her presence and also to crave a few small favors for herself.,“Yes, that’s true,” May Nell replied, with conviction. “And Queen will be Lady Margaret; and you are Malcolm Graeme; and who is Fitz-James?”,“Dear me, mother,” Edith said when Mrs. Bennett came in with hot cakes, “what shall we do with two children in dreamland?” Edith had not touched her breakfast, but was waiting on the others.,Moses regretted a hundred times his refusal to grant Betty’s request for two bits. He had since offered it and had tried to thrust it on her, but injured pride could not thus be appeased.,Lila Williams, with her dark curls falling over a pale blue gingham dress, stood watching the proceedings with impatience. She was yearning to burst into speech. As soon as St. Elmo’s cries were reduced to intermittent gum-droppy sobs she turned to Betty, and looking up trustfully into her brown eyes, she launched forth.,Flora came into view, clad in palest pink, and wreathed with almond blossoms. Wherever she stepped the ground was white with almond snow. Gnomes and elves peeped from behind gray rocks and tree-trunks, but fled as she came near, following the ever-beckoning fairies.,In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply.,Diligently as Betty had tended this little garden, it was considered to be a family possession, the child’s own particular treasures lying beyond its fragrant border. Her cherished morning-glories and climbing nasturtiums found a welcome support in the old wooden fence..