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As the evening wore on Mrs. Wopp, Mrs. Stephens and a few other ladies adjourned to a box stall where the refreshments were stored. Pleased with the prospect of dispensing lavish hospitality from the combined larders of the neighborhood, Mrs. Wopp’s face radiated cheerfulness.,

Mrs. Wopp surmised from the dejected appearance of the young rancher, coupled with the smiles over the footlights which she had observed with rising wrath, that trouble was brewing, and she whispered audibly to herself, “A musician’s orl right on a pianner stool, but when it comes to gittin’ up in the mornin’ an’ choppin’ wood to bile the kettle give me a farmer.” Her cogitations became louder. “I s’pose he thinks cos he has a percession of carpital letters arter his name he can git anyone fer the arskin’. When he smiled so at our Miss Gordon I could of slain him with the jawrbone of an arss.” In her championship of Howard’s interests, Mrs. Wopp became an ardent villifier of the pianist and she administered an oral castigation with feminine vigor.,

“Here, Mose, hoi’ this here jint while I fit the next one inter it.” A tongue-twisting silence ensued.,

She opened the lunch pail and gave him a scrap from it; ate a sandwich herself; and in a moment started off to find the Idean vine. Nothing appeared that fitted her mind’s picture of that creeper; but she found a great sheet of delicate wild clematis, covering the tangled roots of a fallen oak with its pale green tendrils. The earth was soft, the roots easily lifted; and shortly she had masses of it uprooted and trailing after her to the Lodge.

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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.,

Billy hurried away, and arrived at his home before the hack, bread and cream safe in spite of threatened dangers.,

“O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice.,

Billy took no heed of time till he saw the man above shoulder his hoe, pick up his wine jug, and start down the hill. At that Billy’s heels grew swift. He scurried out of his hiding place, slipped rapidly through the brush, found his wheel, and bowled off. No languor or heaviness now in body or mind. Every atom of him was alert as on the night of the opera, yet not so normally alert; for the evil atmosphere of the place was in his soul, filling his teeming brain with imaginings of many crimes.