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“Are—are you hurt bad, Jimmy?” came in a quaking voice.,Not all at once but slowly, with mother’s tact, Mrs. Bennett won the little heart to partial peace; and when the gate clicked, and Billy’s voice was heard, she was almost gay. “I must be laughing when they come in,” she whispered, “so they won’t see the tears in my eyes and think I am unthankful.”,Edith in white, half smothered in blush roses, with the fairies and their Queen, stood ready in the wings. Billy was also waiting his cue. This time he was to be pulled swiftly in on invisible wheels. Over his satin tunic was a network of glittering mock gems that must have included every yellow bead and spangle in Vine County. From his shoulders floated a cloud of yellow, diamond-dusted tulle; and the crown of gems surrounded a cluster of small lights, a device Billy himself had figured out with the aid of the electric light man.,At this juncture there was a knock at the door. It was Howard Eliot who had called for Nell.,“I am wartchin’, Mar,” replied Moses, “But Josh ’pears to be worryin’ ’bout somethin’. He’s chewin’ his bit an’ breakin’ inter a run-like every minute.”,The inexorable portrait on the wall seemed to gaze down on the recalcitrant youth with disapproval.,“Go and bring him now, so you can renovate his appearance before supper,” directed the mother.,He had left his traps,—the fight had sent all else flying out of his mind. No matter. He could set them in some vineyard. Already the short grass on the hills was brown, and many of the wild flowers were past their blooming. The rabbits would be seeking the tender green of the vines, the purpling alfalfa, standing lush and sweet, ready for mowing.,“Yer a reglar Mis’ Barnum,” he praised. Whereupon the enterprising program-maker began to devise new and more wonderful side-shows for her admirer.,Ebenezer Wopp was the last silent word in patient masculinity, but his face, becoming darker with his work, would lead an onlooker to believe that sinister thoughts were struggling to find expression.,Mrs. Wopp’s voice, a dramatic outburst before which almost any cloud would have quailed, filled the bedroom. Betty turned to Nell Gordon, “I hope all yer clouds’ll hev silver linin’s, Miss Gordon,” she smiled.,“Come, come! We can’t be cremated while we wait. Mush!”.