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“Yet let him sleep downstairs,” Edith persisted.,Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor.,The best amusement of the hours of imprisonment was planning for the performance of “The Lady of the Lake.” Nothing definite, except that it was to be out of doors, had unfolded till now, when irksome leisure and May Nell’s quick mind together bore fruit.,“And just worships you. Is your lawn mowed?”,“And help?” May Nell asked, eagerly.,Billy made no reply. He wondered if he ought to stay at home.,Baffled, yet knowing he had expected it, he ran this way and that, peering round each corner, scanning the bare, high walls to see if by chance some window had been left unbarred. Not one less than a dozen feet from the ground! He ran back to the door, was almost tempted to shake it, yet knew that would be a foolish trick; some one might be within guarding May Nell; might at the first noise still more securely hide her,—they said there were fearfully deep and dark cellars under that house! She might come to—to some dreadful harm!,“This,” said Betty, showing the picture of a robin, “is a wormivorious bird.” Henry, the rooster, from his vantage point on a beam crowed lustily, but Betty ignored his remark.,“St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”,“No matter, Billy. I think she was sent to us; and we shall find a way. Are the chickens fed?”,It took some time to focus her intellect on the proper placing of mirthful youngsters, but at last, after singing “Like a little candle burning in the night,” all were in readiness to imbibe biblical learning.,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..