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The little stranger girl smiled winningly. Her childish companions had not been numerous enough to justify her in drawing such close lines; and she liked the sweet, half timid faces that always looked so earnestly into her own. “Surely, I’ll play with you. I’ll come to see you some time when Mrs. Bennett says I may.”,“Do you live here?” she questioned with an irrepressible shudder.,“Well now Howard Eliot I carnt see nothin’ in that to larf at. It is grand readin’. Do read another,” said Mrs. Wopp.,“Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp.,“This is a lyre, very old,” said Mr. Crump, handling an ancient instrument tenderly. Moses looked up suddenly, he hoped nothing he had said called forth the remark.,“Surveyors? What’s your scheme?” Jimmy was quickly interested.,“To-morrer’ll see my revenge,” growled Moses, now thoroughly roused to action under the protection of his own roof.,To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop.,“Them carrots do smell sweet.”,Yet before one could think, almost before the paper had time to burn, Jimmy sprang to her, seized her in his arms, tearing at the shrivelling paper, and jumped far out over the flaming boat into a deep pool.,The pianist took a long look at Nell who had been visibly affected by his playing. Misgivings that date back to Eden were leaping into life in his breast. He had been in love more times than he could count, but here was the girl after all. He began a Scherzo of his own composition. Youth gathering flowers at the open mouth of a volcano. The melody was born to live forever. He was a genius. Now Nell knew it and her soul worshipped genius. Howard Eliot was far from her thoughts as she listened to the enchanting chain of melodies that poured forth.,“Where have you been, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?.